What is instinct? Some thoughts on telepathy and subconsciousness in animals

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WHAT IS INSTINCT?

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WHAT IS INSTINCT ?

SOME THOUGHTS ON TELEPATHY
AND SUBCONSCIOUSNESS IN ANIMALS

By C. BINGHAM NEWLAND

WITH, ILLUSTRATIONS

NEW YORK :
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

FOREWORD

A CONTRIBUTOR to the Daily Mail, writing on
“the puzzle of the racing pigeon,”’ says :

“Those who come to the conclusion that
some innate knowledge of direction is the
main factor simply use an expression calcu-
lated to hide ignorance. They remind one
of the ostrich with its head in the sand.”

The contents of this book may perhaps suggest
what that “ innate knowledge ”’ is, and whence
derived.

In writing of the creatures of the Animal
World I have, with few exceptions, described
their habits and doings entirely from personal
observations which cover many years close
study in the field.

As sportsman and naturalist I have had
exceptional opportunities for observing nature
under all sorts of conditions, and although I
lay no claim to deep scientific learning, I have
been so impressed with what I have seen that
I am constrained, in the interests of science,
to submit the following observations for what

v

vi FOREWORD
they are worth, in the hope that they may
prove suggestive and that those possessing
scientific knowledge may give their attention
to the proposition set forth, and perhaps follow
up my theory on more systematic lines.

However, putting aside the scientific aspect
of the case, I have every hope that these
essays on Natural History, written in a popular
form, will prove acceptable to all those who
take an interest in the doings and wonderful
achievements of creatures of the Animal
Kingdom.

C. BLN.

CONTENTS

PAGE
CHAPTER I - - * - sf

Telepathy—Subconscious influences: humanity—
Subconscious mind rules exclusively in the Animal
World—Subconscious faculties inherited from primeval
ancestors—Water-divining—Dog’s power of ‘‘ scenting.”’

CHAPTER II 5

Convictions from practical study of nature—What
we understand by nature—Nature compared to a
machine—Invisible links—Review of creatures in the
Animal World—Nature’s schemes for self-protection—
Creatures devoid of self-consciousness—Infallibility of
subconscious mind where there is no question of
reasoning powers: Lepidoptera—Metamorphosis of
Cabbage-White—Epitome of life-history of White-
Admiral.

CHAPTER III 3 sia

Puss-moth—Cocoon of puss-moth—Section of cocoon
—Parthenogenesis—Cocoon of Emperor moth.

CHAPTER IV - = 26
Ichneumon-flies—Rhyssa persuasoria—Ichneumons,
parasitic on larve of other insects—Sirex gigas—Tremu-
lous antenne: ichneumons—Ovipositor in action—
Sirex larva—Antennez: specialized—Nature’s intangible
connections—Life-principle: centre of subconsciousness.

vii

viii CONTENTS

PAGE
CHAPTER V 2 - - 26

Blending of subconscious mind—Ants: sense of
direction—Bees and wasps : sense of direction—Souls of
animals—‘‘ Group-souls ’’—Zone of telepathy—Proces-
sionary caterpillars: habits illustrative of mind-
blending.

CHAPTER VI 32

Review of Processionary caterpillars—Actions of
animals due to infallible subconscious mind—Difference
between reasoningand subconscious mind—Subconscious
mind, pure expression of All-Mind—Illustration: spider’s
web—Community of processionary caterpillars: exam-
ple of “ Nature in her Divine purity ”—Experiment by
Fabre (French naturalist)—Meddling with nature’s
arrangements—Silken thread : guide to nest—Buff-Tip :
larve—Small Eggar moth: larve—Colonizing of
Melitea aurinia—Ermine moth—Gregarious larve of
saw-flies: examples of mind blending.

CHAPTER VII - - 40

Blackbird and Thrush—Willow-Warbler and Wood-
Warbler—Spontaneous knowledge— Water Ousel—
Crowned Hornbill — Nuthatch — Long-tailed Tit —
Golden-crested Wren—Golden Oriole—Pensile nests—
Pigeon’s nests—Rock Dove—Stock Dove—Ring Dove—
Magpie—Firewood-Gatherer.

CHAPTER VIII - 49

Wild-Duck—Shell-Duck—Colours and markings on
birds’ eggs—Hedge-Sparrow’s egg—Guillemots—Modi-
fication of guillemot’s egg—Eggs of plovers, woodcock,
etc.—Position of eggs in nest.

CHAPTER IX 56

Bird aware of addled egg—Pied-Flycatcher : personal
incident—A revelation in natural history—Birds and
others removing their belongings—The Cuckoo’s case.

CONTENTS ix

PAGE
CHAPTER X : A. cde 64

The power of flight—The aeroplane—Flying,
natural to the bird as the act of walking is to man—
Chicks of game birds—Birds teaching their young to
fly (?)—-Cygnets learning to fly (?) Swans and surround-
ings—Swans : ‘‘ Exposers ’’—Birds’ means of identify-
ing one another—In telepathic union—Telepathy not
essential: humanity—Telepathy essential: animal
world—Telepathy, capacity for responding to vibration
under sympathetic action—Sympathy, the one great
power throughout nature—Wings of birds structurally
alike—Wing of bird, best possible design.

CHAPTER XI a1

Flight of birds: characteristic—Wing action: same
in all birds—Observing flight from different points of
view—Heron: slow mover—Rook, lapwing, gulls:
birds of slow flight—Flight of black-headed gull—Flight
of pigeons—Summer-Snipe: characteristic flight of
sandpipers—Anatomy of bird’s wing—Spur-winged
plover—Feathering of the wing: valve principle—Up-
and-down action of the wing—How a bird rises from the
ground—Progression through the air—Undulating flight
Flying on a level plane—Undulating flight of small birds
—Woodpeckers : exponents of undulating flight—Green
woodpecker—“‘ Coasting’: applied to bird-flight—
Partridges ‘‘ coasting ’’—-Nature as she is—Wings act as
brake against the air.

CHAPTER XII - 86

Insect flight—Construction of the wing: insects—
Coleoptera : jointed wing—Bombylius, humming-birds
and hover-flies—Flying backwards—Hawk-moths.

CHAPTER XIII - - 92

Sounds in nature—Few creatures incapable of utter-
ance—Jack-Snipe—Sounds that convey meanings—
Songs of birds—Glance ‘‘ behind the veil ’’—Instru-
mental music—Antenne, organs for intercepting
sound—Woodpeckers using a sounding-board—“ Bleat-
ing” of snipe—Corncrake and Nightjar: personal
note—Antics of birds—Subconscious manifestation.

x CONTENTS

PAGE
CHAPTER XIV 99

Natural protections—Exposers and Concealers—Wild
Duck—Curlew, golden-plover and shore-birds—Attitude
of creatures on the approach of danger—Company move-
ments of birds and others—No leaders in true sense of
the meaning—Birds flying in V-shaped figure—Flock of
birds actuated by one mind—Mind-blending : explana-
tion—Birds fall automatically into “‘ wedge’? shape—
Geese (Anser albifrons)—Golden-Plover over feeding
grounds—In nature, nothing impossible—Bird aristoc-
racy—Stints, dunlin, sandlings and ringed-plover—
Telepathy, general throughout Animal World—Rooks :
Exposers—Starlings.

CHAPTER XV - IIo

Concealers—Covey of partridges—All birds in the
covey rise simultaneously—Laggards, outside zone of
telepathy—Partridges dwell together in close associa-
tion—‘ Packing ”’ of coveys—Attitude of concealment
helped out by colour resemblance to surroundings—
Mind-blending: gregarious animals—Sheep—Sheep,
crowding together—Stampede of horses and panic in
human crowd—“ Psychology of crowds.”

CHAPTER XVI I17

Quick response of subconscious mind—Movements,
characteristic of creatures—Thrush : example—Freaks
and deformities—Hereditary disease not possible in pure
nature—Birds dependent on senses ofsight and hearing—
Eyes of birds, specially modified—Bird’s vision includes
all-round view—Angle of parallax—-Woodcock, snipe,
etc., position of eye-sockets—Equilibrium.

CHAPTER XVII 126

Animal instinct discredited—Quotation from Daily
Mail—Pigeon racing, national sport—‘‘ Homing ”
instinct manifested throughout Animal World—Calf’s
sense of direction: an incident—Pigeons: is training
necessary ?—Effect of fog on pigeons—Telesthesia,

CONTENTS xi

PAGE
CHAPTER XVIII - - - 134
Sense of direction—Frogs and toads—Fresh-water
eel—Eels supposed to originate from horsehairs—
Gordius aquaticus—Migration of eels—Eels’ sense of
direction—Eel, a sea-fish.

CHAPTER XIX - - - - 139

History of the salmon—Salmon, a river fish—Rela-
tionship of salmon and trout—‘ Slob” trout—Proof of
relationship between salmon and trout—Hybrids—Fresh
water essential to hatching and maintaining young
salmon (parr)—Similarity of appearance between young
salmon and trout—Why should salmon be attracted by
the baits and lures of the angler ?

CHAPTER KX = = © « 2 144

Salmon rising to artificial fly—Fish controlled by
subconscious principle—Angler takes advantage of
salmon’s incapacity for reflection—Creatures’ innate
sense of curiosity—Duck decoy—Dog used to attract
the birds—Sense of curiosity in birds—Animals become
accustomed to innovations—Horse, a timid creature—
Elephant—Horse and rider in telepathic sympathy—
Horse prone to shy at unnatural objects—Senses of fear
and curiosity in some way connected.

CHAPTER XXI - - - - 152

Creatures attracted by unnatural appearances—
Curiosity aroused in cattle—Skylarks attracted by pris-
matic mirror—Animals fascinated by light—Salmon
attracted by light—Salmon problem—Deluding trout,
no mystery.

CHAPTER XXII - - 156

Salmon fishing, psychological point of view—Salmon
fly—“‘Snow fly”—‘Jock Scott,” all-round fly—
“Warning colours ’’—Salmon attracted by curiosity—
Salmon enter fresh water for breeding purposes only—
Oxygen, necessary to salmon—Aistivation of salmon.

xii CONTENTS

PAGE

CHAPTER XXIII - - - 166
Salmon estivating : personal experience—Futility of
casting over salmon when in state of estivation—Rise in
the water awakens the fish—The kelt—Real baits used
by the angler—The worm as bait for salmon—The
prawn—Spinning baits—Live bait for salmon—Mind-

blending : fish—Psychological aspect.

CHAPTER XXIV - - - 176
Hive-bees: an exception—Swarming of bees—The
queen bee—Quotation (Myers)— Bee Scouts— Bees
“sense” a cavity—Humble-bees: a practical test.

CHAPTER XXV 187

Telesthesia—Migration of birds—Willow-Warbler—
Telasthesia : manifested in man—Telesthesia enables
birds to find their way—Manand the magnetic compass—
Nature : a vast machine—Circle : emblem of eternity—
Nature works on cyclic system—Migrations at night—
Birds attracted by lighthouse—Functioning of bird’s
subconscious mind.

CHAPTER XXVI 195

Migrations—Swallows—Birds travelling at night—
Psychological moment of departure—Wind, factor in
controlling migrations—Effect of cold and starvation on
birds—Birds travel without thought of losing the way—
Sand-Grouse.

CHAPTER XXVII 200

Mr. Hutchinson’s account in Cornhill (the Globe), ve
distribution of birds in connection with the war—Note,
and excerpt from account written by officer at the front
(The Times, March, 1916).

CONTENTS xili

PAGE
CHAPTER XXVIII - - - 204

Author’s endeavour to show how birds and others
accomplish their ‘‘ remarkable feats ’’—Dog swims sub-
cousciously—Man learns to swim—Reasoning and sub-
conscious mind, connected—Effects of the war on
pheasants—Polygamous birds—‘‘ Crowing ”’ and “ wing
drumming ’’—Effects of sound on gallinaceous birds—
Pheasant cocks: erectile ear-covers.

CHAPTER XXIX - 210

Review of the evidence—Subconscious mind integral
of All-Mind—TInfallibility of subconscious mind—Nature
knows without reasoning—Too long in the old tracks—
Bird-like flying machines—Nature linked together and
moved by the One Spirit—Quotation from Pope.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FRONTISPIECE
SECTIONS OF PUSS-MOTH COCOON - facing page 16
COCOON AND SECTION (EMPEROR-MOTH) ,, ,, 16
RHYSSA PERSUASORIA DEPOSITING

OVUM IN LARVA OF SIREX GIGAS - on BD
SIREX GIGAS i ca 2
NEST OF WILLOW-WARBLER Z a ees
NEST OF LONG-TAILED TIT » oo 44
NEST OF GOLDEN-CRESTED REGULUS ae S48
NEST OF BLACKBIRD - - » » 48
NEST OF HEDGE-SPARROW me go <0
EGG OF GUILLEMOT (URIA TROILE) ,,.,, 52
LARVAE OF SAW-FLY ON POPLAR LEAF- ,, ,, 52
NEST OF LESSER WHITETHROAT re, |
WING OF BIRD - » » 88
BOMBYLIUS (DIPTEROUS FLY) - os ww 88
NEST OF THRUSH » oo» «16
HEAD OF PHEASANT = bye Gy 28

HEAD OF WOODCOCK = ae » 122

xv

God is spirit—personal and self-conscious in man:
Nature in her Divine purity is the image of Deity.

E. P. Prenrice.

WHAT IS INSTINCT?

CHAPTER I

TELEPATHY

In these days, when all things seem possible,
it may be that telepathy, now recognized by
science, will be turned to practical account
by some mechanical means. Already we
have that inestimable boon to humanity,
the Marconi wireless system, which is no less
than a material apparatus tuned to transmit
and receive the intangible through space.

Our present knowledge of telepathy is
slight and of no practical use, for the faculty
can rarely be commanded at will, and seems
to occur only among those abnormally sus-
ceptible to subconscious impressions.

Amongst a given number of persons
there is always a proportion of those who,
in some form or another, are more or
less sensitive to subconscious influences. In
most cases their powers have not been
developed, and in many are unsuspected by
the persons possessing them.

2 SUBLIMINAL TENDENCIES

This is the case of humanity, but through-
out the Animal World I believe the subcon-
scious mind rules exclusively, otherwise there
could be no purposeful manifestations, or even
existence, on a plane where there is no self-
conscious reasoning mind.

Before the dawn of human intelligence
Nature reigned in all her purity, and in realms
where personal intelligence is not she still
continues to take the helm with no uncertain
hand. Of this I shall endeavour to show. In
the meanwhile, it should be noted that persons
having subliminal tendencies are generally
described as “‘ gifted.” One has the gift of
clairvoyance ; another the gift of psycho-
metry ; whilst a third is endowed with the
power of water-finding (divining) and so on.
However, I think these manifestations should
not be considered in the light of special gifts,
but rather as fitful recurrences of faculties
prevailing in times before the evolution of
self-conscious mind, and in which heredity
takes part.

These “gifted” persons are commonly
looked upon with suspicion, and by some
are said to have supernatural powers. Their
powers are supernormal, but not supernatural ;
on the contrary, I believe they are entirely
natural, but have become atrophied and out

WATER-DIVINING 3

of date in the face of growing intelligence
which has superseded them. Analogous facul-
ties when manifested in animals are vaguely
described as “‘ instinct.”

In the case of water-divining, if not actually
regarded as an impostor, the sensitive, armed
with his wand, is held as some kind of magi-
cian, no great faith being attached to his
predictions. Nevertheless, his ‘gift’ is very
real and very ancient, probably dating from
a savage ancestry, men or ape-like creatures
with practically no intelligence ; inhabitants,
they may have been, of arid tracts where
surface-water was scarce or non-existent.

Water, however, was a necessity of life, and
the only means these creatures had of dis-
covering it was by instinctive mind. Thus,
we may suppose, this subconscious faculty
prompted them to “sense ”’ the ground until
a certain influence affecting them was felt,
when they would be led to scoop out a hollow
into which the water would percolate.

A somewhat parallel case will show that
sucha theory is notimprobable. For instance,
intelligent man has no power to detect truffles
under ground. The most he can do, using his
wits, is to dig to a certain depth which he
knows in places he thinks likely. If any
success attends this method it is entirely due

4 DOG’S POWER OF “ SCENTING”’

to chance. But a dog or other animal (pig,
badger, etc.) is seen to sense the ground, and
soon discovers the exact spot where the escu-
lent lies hidden below the surface. It may be
said that this is only a matter of smelling
(scenting). It is true the’dog’s nose is the
organ by which the presence of game, etc., is
made known to him ; but of the actual sensa-
tions he experiences we have no knowledge.
The smallest game-bird, a jack snipe, when
held in the hand, has no appreciable smell for
us, but the dog is aware of it when fifty yards
distant. The dog also is capable of running
on the tracks of his master, and following him
through streets where the scent is foiled by
the trampling of many human, leather-clad
feet. If these performances are due to the
sense of smell they transcend anything we
understand of that faculty.

The stock from which man descended pro-
bably never possessed this power, it being un-
necessary to the particular habit of life ; hence
no trace of it has been handed down.

CHAPTER II
WHAT WE UNDERSTAND BY NATURE

In the following pages I shall submit for
the reader’s consideration convictions which
have been impressed on my mind from the
practical study of nature—observations in the
field.

First, however, it may be well to consider
what we understand by nature. The word is
derived from the Latin: mxatus, born; there-
fore, nature has a prior cause—a parent. But
when we consider that nature is the sum of all
things visible, and much which, though in-
visible to normal sight, is in other ways per-
ceptible, we come to the inevitable conclusion
that what stands 1m loco parentis to nature is
the First Cause, and this brings us to a con-
templation of the Absolute—the Absolute
Infinite Mind which is at the back of, and
reflects through, all nature.

As the differential wheels of a clock are
accurately fashioned and intermeshed to en-
sure perfect time-keeping and regularity of

5

6 NATURE COMPARED TO A MACHINE

the mechanism, so, in nature, we find wheels
within wheels—a continuous interaction of
innumerable parts all contributing to the
orderly functioning of the whole system which,
like the clock, works with the utmost precision.
In both cases there is the power—Life, and
consequently movement. In nature’s in-
stance, though we cannot investigate the
“‘ mainspring,”’ it is always open to us to study
the ‘“‘ works’ and endeavour to fit them to-
gether as pieces of a mighty puzzle. As these
pieces fall into their places they are found to
correspond perfectly ; when gaps appear it is
only that we have failed in adjusting the parts.
The fitting together of this puzzle becomes
complicated when dealing with nature’s in-
tangible connections, for though these links
are invisible they are none the less real and
essential to the movements of nature’s
machinery.

A review of the habits and performances of
some of the creatures of the Animal World
will, I think, show that the seen and the
unseen are closely connected.

In the so-called lower creation, we note that
creatures living independently of man are, for
the most part, wild and shy, particularly as
regards man. The reason for this is, of course,
that danger menaces them on all sides: they

x

SCHEMES FOR SELF-PROTECTION ‘i

live in constant peril of their lives, and man
is not their least enemy. But nature has a
variety of wonderful schemes for self-protec-
tion. I say self-protection, because my belief
is that life devoid of self-consciousness is the
pure expression of Omniscience. Were the
creatures self-conscious they would reason for
themselves, and in consequence be liable to
err. But they make no mistakes, as will be
seen, because they are governed entirely by
instinctive mind, which is the subconscious
principle directly transmitted from the ‘‘ main-
spring ’’—All-Mind. For this reason the sub-
conscious principle in animals and all living
things is infallible—infallible in so far as
relates to the imminent necessities of the
creatures, whatsoever. Untrammelled by any
process of reasoning, the subconscious mind
makes no mistakes, requires no mental exer-
cise, and is never forgetful. This mind is re-
sponsible for all internal functions, circulation,
respiration, etc., of the organism, besides con-
trolling external movements and manifesta-
tions (animals).

Now we shall observe how this mind
functions on a plane where there can be no
question of reasoning powers. For instance,
we will consider the life of a lepidopteron
(butterfly), which undergoes a series of changes

8 THE CABBAGE-WHITE BUTTERFLY

of form. The Cabbage-White (Pieris brassicz)
will serve as example.

Those who have witnessed the metamor-
phoses of this or other lepidopterous insects,
must have been struck by the seemingly
perfect knowledge manifested by this creature,
not only that an event is due, but that it is
necessary to make preparations beforehand.
Thus we observe the larva when full fed, leave
its food-plant and start off over the ground
with evidently a determined purpose, which
is, in fact, to discover a suitable place for
pupation. Should there be a wall in the
neighbourhood the caterpillar, though possess-
ing no physical sight, is sure to find it and
climb to the first ledge or coping, a place
exactly suited to its requirements. After
determining the right spot the larva spins a
pad of silk which affords a good holding for
the anal claspers (last pair of legs) for the
time being ; but later on it will be seen that
this act was an absolutely necessary precau-
tion. In the meanwhile, it rests quietly whilst
certain changes are in process within. After
some days in this positio.1, a final touch to the
arrangements is added. Raising its head and
anterior segments, the caterpillar stretches
backwards and with extreme adroitness weaves
a silk cord, composed of several strands, trans-

METAMORPHOSIS OF LARVA 9

versely over its body, the ends on either side
being attached to the wall. This done, there
is again a period of inactivity during which
the anterior segments behind the head are
seen to thicken and swell out.

The first sign that the metamorphosis is
about to take place (the change is effected in
a few minutes) is the splitting of the skin on
the top of the enlarged segments. As the split
opens out, the larval skin falls away and
shrivels at the sides. At this juncture the
process is somewhat impeded by the silken
ligature already described ; but the creature
is equal to the occasion. With spasmodic con-
tortions of the body it succeeds in freeing
itself of the slough which, still in a piece, is
worked down to the anal claspers which, in
their turn, are shed with it. But at this
critical moment the caterpillar exerts a final
effort, hooking its tail into the pad by means
of minute hooks which have taken the place
of the cast-off claspers. Thus what once was
a cylindrical body clinging by legs to a wall
is now fusiform, legless and helpless, though
perfectly secure save for outside interference.

The Cabbage-White is known as a double-
brooded species ; which means that during a
favourable season there will be a succession of
broods, two or more, who quickly pass through

Io THE WHITE ADMIRAL

all stages till the coming of autumn, when the
chrysalis must hybernate as such, or the race
become extinct. Though the number of
broods during the summer depends to some
extent on weather conditions, the matter
cannot be left to chance at the end of the
season, when further development of the pupa
must be arrested in order that it may survive
the winter months. We note the duration of
the pupal period varies, say, from twenty
days to six months. It is apparent, therefore,
that this period is not subject to the variable
conditions of the weather, but is surely ruled
by subconscious mind which times the working
of nature’s machinery down to the smallest
detail.

Though all lepidoptera undergo the same
changes, each class has different schemes for
protection, and habits adapted to the nature
of its surroundings. I have described the pro-
ceedings of the Cabbage-White because it is
an insect that anyone may study ; but there
are others who show, what appears to be, even
greater foresight. The White Admiral (Limeni-
tis sibylla) is notably one of these. Com-
paratively rare, and seeing the risks it incurs,
the marvel is that this butterfly exists at all.

I give an epitome of this insect’s life-
history, as it bears strongly on the subject.

THE WHITE ADMIRAL II

The butterfly emerges in June ; from the end
of that month to the middle of July (roughly)
the egg is laid on honeysuckle. The larva
hatches in July and feeds up slowly until the
honeysuckle leaves are about to fall. By this
time the creature has only attained about
one-third or less of its full size. But as winter
is approaching it must needs prepare accord-
ingly. Judging the time to a nicety, this
minute creature stops feeding, and after
selecting a suitable leaf proceeds to make a
shelter for itself by pulling over the edge of
the leaf and rolling it up by means of silken
stays. But before taking up residence in the
hibernaculum (and this is the point to which
I would draw attention) the caterpillar travels
up the stem and deliberately splices the joint
with silk. The intention of this act is obvious.
When the leaf falls from the plant, this
particular leaf does not fall but remains in
situ throughout the winter, where faded and
shrunken it appears no more than a fragment
of dead leaf, here and there, which has become
entangled in spider’s web. Nevertheless, there
hangs a precious casket containing the time-
being representative of one of the most beau-
tiful British butterflies; certainly the one
displaying the most exquisite form of flight.
The act of binding the stem of the leaf to the

12 A PSYCHOLOGICAL TRUTH

living wood of the bush (which in a human
would point to a knowledge of dendrology)
ensures a double purpose ; for not only does
the suspended hammock shelter and keep the
inmate out of harm’s way, but when spring
returns the larva wakes to find itself in the
midst of a plentiful food supply. Were this
precautionary measure forgotten or omitted
for a single season, it would mean the extinc-
tion of a species which has probably been
extant for 20,000 years.

The man in the street may say it is a case
of “blind instinct,” and perhaps describe it
as the “ manifestations of a maggot’’; but
to the thinking mind there underlies a pro-
found psychological truth.

Creatures in the insect world, at all events,
can learn nothing from practice, for they grow
so quickly and are so short-lived that there is
no time for mistakes which can only occur
accidentally ; a mistake means the sure ex-
tinction of the individual. Then again, the
changing from one state to another necessi-
tates a fresh sequence of acts. Some of these,
as we have seen, are never repeated ; there-
fore it is clear that what these creatures
accomplish is not by means of acquired
knowledge.

In pure nature, by which I mean life

MIND OF AN IMPERSONAL NATURE 13

functioning free from man’s influence, elabo-
rate schemes are seen to work out with the
utmost punctuality and precision. The crea-
tures involved make no tentative experi-
ments, but the perception of how and when
to act comes to them subconsciously. In the
old-time phrase we say, they do these things
“instinctively,” which conveys little mean-
ing; but to say the creatures act subcon-
sciously infers mind, though mind of an
impersonal nature. What indeed instigates
the creatures is mind of the highest order.
Purposeful acts cannot possibly eventuate
without mind. Where, then, is the seat
of this mentality? We can only assume
it is everywhere—omnipresent and therefore
Omniscient.

CHAPTER III
THE PUSS-MOTH

THERE occur to me two instances which show
wonderful subconscious foresight in insects.
The first refers to a well-known species, the
“Puss”? moth, as it is commonly called,
(Dicranura vinula). The larva of this moth is
a great favourite with young collectors, no
doubt on account of its wonderful colouring
and unusual form, and also because it possesses
a unique (to the genus) caudal apparatus
which comes into use when the larva is
attacked by ichneumon-flies, to whose atten-
tions it is much subject. The defence consists
of two slender whip-like processes which are
projected at will and flourished about over its
body when the caterpillar is attacked by the
flies, or even when disturbed by the human
presence. The “ puss” larva is altogether a
fascinating creature, and interesting to watch
throughout its larval existence ; but it is the
larva-pupal change to which I shall confine
my description.
4

COCOON OF PUSS-MOTH 15

When full fed, on either sallow or poplar,
the larva begins to lose its bright colouring,
which is a certain sign that the change is about
to be made. This applies to all lepidopterous
larve. Leaving the foliage, the caterpillar
follows along the branch to its junction with
the stem of the tree, and so crawls downwards.
When the poplar is slender and not suitable to
requirements, it proceeds over the ground to
another spot ; but if the trunk of the original
tree is large and the bark rough and uneven,
there is no need to go further. Selecting a
cavity amidst the excoriations of the bark,
the creature proceeds to fashion the hollow to
take the form of its body; this it does by
means of its powerful mandibles. After the
cavity has been duly rounded off and smoothed
down, the larva commences to spin a roof, at
the same time chipping off bits of bark which
amalgamate with the viscous thread as it
issues from the spinnerets. By degrees the
roof under construction becomes more and
more opaque until the worker is no longer
visible ; the work, however, continues, for
this shell-like protection must be rendered
air-tight and waterproof and of such a con-
sistency that nothing may penetrate. As a
matter of fact, this cocoon is as hard as

cement, and being formed chiefly from the
c

16 SECTION OF COCOON

bark of the tree itself looks exactly like a
natural excrescence which only the practised
eye of the entomologist can detect. By-and-by
the larva pupates, an operation that involves
the shedding of its skin together with the
cutting mandibles. How, then, is it possible
for the soft woolly moth, due to emerge the
following spring, to break through the walls
of its prison? Save for a short proboscis
and antenne it has then no tools to work
with.

To understand how the moth escapes and
the modus operandi, we must carefully cut out
a cocoon with a chisel and extract the chrysa-
lis; then by holding to the light the empty
shell, which looks like the half of an almond
shell, it will be seen that the interior is opaque
with the exception of a small circular cap at
the top end; this, it will be noted, has less
bark and is transparent, otherwise as hard as
the rest of the structure. This glazy “ sky-
light ”’ is pure consolidated gum (liquid silk)
which is spread by the larva as it finishes work.
The consistency of the cement is such as to be
unaffected by moisture, but is solvent to an
alkaline fluid with which the moth is provided
and which it exudes when breaking through
the chrysalis case; thus the gum gives way
and the insect struggles through the aperture,

SECTIONS OF PUSS-MOTH COCOON.

[Facing page 16.

THE EMPEROR-MOTH 17

a sorry looking object until its wings have
developed and stiffened.

We ask ourselves, how, when plastering in
the “skylight,” does the caterpillar know to
keep it practically free from bark, not entirely
because there is a slight sprinkling of scraps
on the outer surface which is evidently in-
tended to make the structure look uniform in
colour and general appearance? and why
should it take these precautions when, at the
time, it possesses jaws capable of cutting
through any part of the structure? These
are questions which cannot be answered ex-
cept on the understanding of an Omniscient
Mind manifesting within.

The next case is that of a very handsome
insect : The Emperor-Moth (Saturnia carpini).

The cocoon of this species is of quite a
different class : it may be looked for on moors.
The larva, also a beautiful object, feeds on
heather for the most part. When about to
turn, it chooses a thick growth of the plant,
where, amongst the topmost sprigs, it spins
a flask-shaped cocoon. Though somewhat
exposed in this position, it is easily overlooked
on account of colour resemblance, and also
from the fact that upstanding bents of dead
melic-grass, common to moorlands, are often
found drawn in and enmeshed, which help to

18 COCOON OF EMPEROR-MOTH

conceal it. Though yielding, these cocoons
are extremely tough and durable, as they need
to be to withstand the winter months in an
exposed situation; the collector, therefore,
oftener than not, is disappointed on finding
an old and empty case. But even this will
serve for investigation purposes, which, after
all, is what the true naturalist is out for rather
than the senseless object of making a mere
collection of things.

This moth, also, would be powerless to get
out of the cocoon unless (as a larva) it had
made certain arrangements in anticipation of
the coming event. As I have said, the cocoon
is flask-shaped and tapers to a blunt point
where a few grass stems, interwoven, stick up
above it. It is here, at the top, where even-
tually the moth emerges ; but to understand
how the emergence is effected a sectional view
will explain better than any words can
describe.

To obtain a section, cut down an empty
cocoon from the top to the base, dividing it
into equal halves. For this purpose an ordin-
ary pocket knife is of no use; a lancet or some
really sharp instrument must be employed,
otherwise the part to be examined will be
crushed out of shape. When the severance
is neatly done, the “ trick,’ so to speak, is

PARTHENOGENESIS 19

exposed. There will then be seen what, before
it was cut, was a circular radiation of stiff
resilient bristles sloping upwards and inwards
until their ends meet and form a point. This
extraordinary contrivance is on the system of
an eel-pot, inverted.

It should be said that the web is produced,
loosely diffused, above the bristles’ point, so
that if, by chance, anything—a small insect,
for instance—penetrates this covering, still it
cannot enter the inner chamber, for it would
be held up in a kind of pocket which runs
round at the base of the bristles. Thus it will
be seen that no entrance to the interior from
the outside is possible, but the inmate can
with very little exertion push up and out
through the practically unresisting bristles.

How the larva sets about such an elaborate
device must, for obvious reasons, remain a
mystery.

With regard to this species, it may be here
worth recording that a case of parthenogenesis
came under the writer’s notice some few years
ago, when a batch of ova deposited by an
isolated female, bred in confinement, fully
hatched out and were subsequently reared.

CHAPTER IV

ICHNEUMON-FLY (RHYSSA PERSUASORIA)

Havine referred to ichneumon-flies I shall
now give an account of one, typical of the
class, whose subconscious manifestations are
wonderful as they are interesting.

Ichneumonide, of which there are a great
variety, include flies of all sizes from very
minute creatures upwards. Rhyssa persua-
soria, a four-winged powerful fly, has an
elongated body of a blackish colour with
yellowish lateral spots, and is the largest
British representative of this class. The
female has an ovipositor of surprising length
which is often mistaken for a sting, but is
really an egg-laying apparatus. If carefully
examined, this instrument is seen to be split
into three longitudinal sections. The centre
process is the ovipositor proper, around which
the two remaining hair-like sections close
tightly, forming a protective sheath.

It must be understood that ichneumons in

the larval stage are parasitic on larve of other

SAW-FLY (SIREX GIGAS) ai
insects, some of which are wood-borers. Now
the host of persuasoria is the larva of Sirex
gigas, a very large saw-fly which, from its
colour resemblance, has the appearance of a
hornet. Like the ichneumon, it is also fur-
nished with an ovipositor, short and stout, an
appendage which adds greatly to its terrifying
appearance. With this instrument the Sirex
punctures the bark of fir-trees and deposits
an egg on the living wood. On hatching, the
grub eats its way into the tree and, by degrees,
excavates a tunnel in the hard wood until
nearly full fed, when it turns in an outward
direction and bores at right angles until
nothing but a thin partition remains between
it and the outside. The creature then ceases
work and prepares for pupation. In due
course the saw-fly emerges, and pushing its
way out is free to the world. This is what
happens when all goes well with the Sirex.
But though, apparently, so secure from out-
side interference, the Sirex larva has in
persuasoria a deadly enemy, for this wonder-
ful fly has the extraordinary power, not only
of discovering the presence of its intended
victim, but of locating the exact position
occupied by the larva which, it must be noted,
the ichneumon has never seen nor ever will
see.

22 RHYSSA PERSUASORIA

The ichneumon’s proceedings are as follows :
After alighting on the trunk of a fir-tree it runs
actively up and down the bole, occasionally
flying to a short distance and settling again to
resume investigations. During this search the
insect’s antennz are seen to be in a state of
tremulous agitation. This hunt for the Sirex
larva is an all-important matter, for on its
success depends the continuity of the ichneu-
mon race. Persuasoria, however, is equal to
the situation. Presently she is seen to come
to a standstill, and drawing up her legs plants
herself firmly on the surface of the bark. In
this posture she remains motionless with the
exception of the antenne which continue to
beat the air. Now the ovipositor is directed
backwards and bent round and over in a
circular form until the extreme point rests on
a spot immediately below the creature’s
abdomen. A drilling operation is then effected
with the naked ovipositor, which, held in posi-
tion by the tip of the sheath, begins to pene-
trate the wood, whilst the sheath, unaltered,
preserves its curved form. The purpose of the
divided sheath is now apparent, for as the ovi-
positor (drill) sinks deeper into the substance
of the wood, its upper portion is seen to come
away in loop-fashion from between the hair-
like sections, and by degrees the whole length

RHYSSA PERSUASORIA DEPOSITING OVUM IN LARVA
OF SIREX GIGAS.

SIREX GIGAS.
(Facing page 22.

OVIPOSITOR IN ACTION 23
clears the sheath, passing, however, through
the extreme tip, which holds it in place, hori-
zontally into the tree. This explanation is
necessary because the casual observer would
be unlikely to notice any happenings from the
time the fly first took up her position—the
ovipositor, to all appearance, being just as it
was ; however, it is now an empty sheath.

That such an operation is possible is due to
the extraordinary strength and flexibility of
the ovipositor, which is not only a drill but a
tube, and so sensitive that at the moment it
comes in contact with the larva, the ichneu-
mon is prompted to place her egg in the skin
of the creature. When this is accomplished
the ovipositor is withdrawn ; coming out in
the same loop-form, it springs back into the
sheath and the fly goes off in search of another
victim.

Now is the Sirex doomed, though not to
immediate destruction, for it must live to
nurture the parasite during the latter’s larval
period. Thus, both grow together, the Sirex
living on the wood of the tree and the parasite
deriving nourishment from the fatty tissues
underlying the skin of its host. When both
are full fed and the tunnelling operations have
ceased, the Sirex larva pupates, including the
parasite within its chrysalis. Whereupon the

24 ANTENNA

larva devours what remains of its host and
itself undergoes the same metamorphosis.
Eventually, instead of the saw-fly emerging,
the ichneumon pushes through the sealed
aperture.

To my mind, scarcely anything in nature
surpasses in marvel the manifestations of
this class: The curious connection that exists
between the fly and the larva of a totally dif-
ferent species, the wonderful adaptability of
the organs and perfect subsconscious percep-
tions, are, to say the least, astonishing ; but
being merely insects the creatures attract
little attention; and except to those who
study such things their very existence is
practically unknown.

Ichneumons are essentially hunters and
detectives of the first order. Their detective
work is undoubtedly accomplished by means
of the antenne, highly specialized sense organs
tuned to respond to etheric vibrations. These
delicate organs (antenne) and their modifica-
tions, without which the Insect World could
have no existence, are no less than “ aerials ”
—physical media for the reception of trans-
cendental impressions, a linking of the material
and intangible. Here we have an instance of
nature’s ‘‘ intangible connections,’ whereby
all her parts are associated and sympathetically

CENTRE OF SUBCONSCIOUSNESS = 25
respond to one another when and as required
in the general scheme.

Thus, the life-principle (soul) of the insect
or other of the animal world is a centre of sub-
consciousness, temporarily set apart, but ever
“in touch ”’ with the All-Conscious.

The quivering of the antenne is a marked
peculiarity ; so much is this the case that
when a fly of any dimensions is seen waving
its horns in an agitated manner, it is fairly safe
to assume it an ichneumon of some kind.

CHAPTER V
SUBCONSCIOUS MIND IN RESPECT TO GROUPS

THE foregoing show the functioning of sub-
conscious mind in single individuals, but where
communities are concerned, I believe that the
subconscious principle, collectively, is by a
telepathic process, merged into oneness ; that
is to say, all units within a certain radius are
linked together by telepathy so that one mind
serves the entire group. At all events, we
shall take this as a working hypothesis. Given,
then, that the units, collectively, function as
one mind, and for the moment lose sight of
the fact that, materially speaking, they have
separate bodies, it is then conceivable that
works of combined labour and joint action can
be carried out. But, on the other hand, it is
inconceivable that creatures functioning inde-
pendently on a plane where there is no reason-
ing mind, can achieve elaborately constructed
homes, nests, cells, agglomerated and com-
pound cocoons, etc., such as are constructed

and which excite our wonder and admiration.
26

ANTS INTELLIGENT CREATURES 27

Yet, the general belief is that they doso. Ants
are said to be extremely intelligent creatures,
the proof of which is, they say, that the ant’s
proceedings are directed by distinguishable
officers,! and so on.

But surely this is looking at the matter
strictly from a human point of view. However,
it may be said of the ant, that had the crea-
ture the merest glimmering of intelligence, it
would not strive for an hour to drag a burden
over the top of an obstacle when by diverging
for an inch or two to one side it could pass
without hindrance. The subconscious mind,
in this case, rules that a stick must be grasped
and borne in a certain direction, but it does
not allow for incidental obstructions. Thus
the insect is constantly baulked and thrown
out of its course, but never at a loss for direc-
tion. In this respect bees have the advantage,
for there is little or nothing to obstruct flight,
therefore they are seen to fly in a straight or
bee-line. Social and solitary bees and wasps,
who, like all insects, have no range of vision,
fly unerringly to their cells ; the entrance to
one of these—a tiny hole—is often completely
concealed by herbage. The explanation is
that the bee, the nest, the surroundings, all

1Dimorphism of insects, a side issue, will be touched on later
under hive-bees.

28 ““GROUP-SOULS ”

are puve nature—parts of a perfectly ordered
system timed and tuned to operate in harmony.

To return for a moment to the simile of the
clock : So long as the mainspring is active the
life and movement of the wheels, arranged in
cyclical periods, continues until the spring
runs down. Nature indicates the same cyclic
system ; but as her mainspring is everlasting
and unvarying the works never stop ; which
means that life, though transitional, never
ceases.

Some do not admit that animals have
souls; at death they are said to perish (anni-
hilation). But this is not the teaching of my
observation.

This suggests to me that though man
possesses an individual soul, animals belong
to what are termed “ group-souls.”” A group-
soul may be likened to a pool from which
drops can be taken (individualized) and sub-
sequently returned to be reabsorbed. This
aspect seems to fit in with what I have said
regarding communities, and what in future I
shall allude to as ‘‘ mind-blending.”’ For if the
nature of the spirit principle is to blend when
out of the body, it is possible for it to do so,
telepathically, when incorporated. Mind-
blending, however, I believe to be conditional,
and only to take effect within a certain zone

THE PROCESSIONARY CATERPILLAR 29

of telepathy which, in the case of insects, etc.,
includes but a short range.

To test this proposition I shall describe the
manifestations of a group on the same (insect)
plane.

Most readers will have heard of the Pro-
cessionary Caterpillar (Cnethocampa pityo-
campa): The moth, a common species in the
South of France, deposits a cluster of eggs on
the needles of a pine-tree. On hatching out,
the young larve at once set to work and spin
a web round and about the fir-needles. Ina
short time the web assumes a globular form
which increases in size as the caterpillars grow.
When not feeding, the creatures pack them-
selves away in the interior of the nest where
they are safely protected. After awhile the
branch to which the nest is attached is com-
pletely stripped of its needles. So destructive
indeed are these larve that a large colony will
practically defoliate the tree ; it then becomes
necessary to go elsewhere for food. I do not
say they go in search of food, for, apparently,
they know where to go and how to get there.

One might suppose the caterpillars have only
to seek the nearest tree, but for reasons known
to subconscious mind, some particular tree is
essential. It may be the one affording a good
site for the nest, or that the needles are young

30 THE PROCESSIONARY CATERPILLAR

and therefore tender; but whatever the
reason, the fact remains, they will quit not
only the tree but sometimes leave the planta-
tion and travel a considerable distance before
arriving at their destination. Now, as it is
absolutely necessary to the existence of the
species that the larve keep in close company,
it follows that when making a journey for the
purpose of constructing a new home, an act
which can only be accomplished by their com-
bined efforts, they must on no account, so to
speak, lose sight of one another. But, like all
lepidopterous larve, these creatures are sight-
less, though probably sensitive to light. What
is it that takes the place of sight ? I believe
it to be the clairvoyant faculty of subconscious
mind. In any case the larve do not act blindly,
but start off in single file, the head of one
caterpillar close to but not touching the tail
of the onein front. In this order they are seen
to travel down the trunk of the tree and take
the open ground, crossing dusty roads and
surmounting such obstacles as chance in the
way. No halt occurs, unless it be that the
band of processionists is disrupted by some
accident. Then the column is held up until
the surviving members re-form, when, the
broken link being made good, the march
continues as before.

THE PROCESSIONARY CATERPILLAR 31

The migration of Processionary Caterpillars,
which is typical of all migrations, the purport
being food, offers exceptional opportunities
for test experiments.

Let the observer try the effect of transpos-
ing the units of the column: Place (say) the
leader at the end and put the last caterpillar
at the head of the procession, and then watch
results. It will be found that when the dis-
turbance has subsided (this may take some
time) the march will continue as if nothing
had happened. Here it may be recommended,
that if found necessary to handle the cater-
pillars, old gloves should be worn to be after-
wards thrown away, for these larve bear an
armature of urticating hairs of a dangerous
nature, a protection, however, of great service
to them when thus travelling in the open.

CHAPTER VI
REVIEWING THE CASE

Now to review this case of the Processionary
Caterpillars: We have for consideration the
performances of a lowly brood of sightless
creatures having no parental protection, and
who have not attained the perfect stage ; yet
from the first we see them combining to con-
struct a waterproof home protected (eventu-
ally) on the outside by a frise of poisonous
shafts (hairs shed with the skins), and within
are galleries for the convenience of the inmates
when resting. When leaving this fortress for
foraging purposes the larve, though sightless,
have no difficulty in finding their way home,
and when finally quitting for reasons stated,
they march one behind another in orderly
procession to spots of which they can have no
conscious knowledge. How is it achieved ?
Ostensibly they follow a leader; but how
shall the blind lead the blind, and what quali-
fications has any one that he should assume
leadership over his brethren when all are on
an equality, the same age?
32

REASONING AND SUBCONSCIOUS MIND 33

The problem has no solution so long as we
regard it from a human point of view.

People speak of the wonderful acts and per-
formances achieved by animals, birds, etc., as
if they (the animals) possessed human reason-
ing faculties. This is the point—animals can-
not reason ; their actions are due to infallible
subconscious mind.

The difference between the two minds would
appear to be this: Whereas the self-conscious
reasoning mind has an open field, it has no
knowledge beyond what, by slow degrees, is
acquired from instruction, experience and
experiment. The subconscious mind—pure
expression of All-Mind, on the other hand, has
already perfect knowledge within a certain
compass; 7.¢., absolute perception of the
imminent necessities of the material body it
controls, with power to engender actions which
further existence and ensure continuity.

As illustration : A spider, in order to obtain
its food—a fly, of whose existence it is not
consciously aware—is capable of spinning a
web, geometrically correct, by which to entrap
the fly ; but to no other purpose can it turn
its geometrical knowledge.

The reasoning mind (of man) considers the
spider’s web ; is struck with the idea that it
is a very practical device ; copies it, and after

34 FABRE’S EXPERIMENT

some experiments, evolves a net to catch
fishes, and again, nets for many purposes.
But all this is learned from Nature, who
knows.

“ Nature, in her Divine purity, is the image
of Deity.” A community of processionary
caterpillars is an example of nature in her
Divine purity.

These caterpillars do not reason and specu-
late among themselves as to the ways and
means for carrying out their project as would
be the case with human beings, who, holding
various and conflicting opinions, are forced to
set up a leader in whom they can trust, other-
wise inevitable confusion results. No, these
creatures require neither leader nor physical
sight, for theirs is the sub-conscious clair-
voyant mind, and, as units which go to make
up the procession, they are so linked by tele-
pathy as to blend into oneness—oneness of
purpose, which purpose is in tune with the
Infinite Intelligence. ...

Fabre, the famous French naturalist, among
other experiments, tried the effect of putting
these processionary larve on the rim of a
large flower-pot, the result being (what the
present writer would have anticipated) that
the caterpillars processed round and round the
rim for many consecutive days, pausing only

FABRE’S EXPERIMENT 35

at night. This fairly proved there was no
leader or intelligence amongst them.

We note that the creatures were unable to
extricate themselves from an unnatural posi-
tion in which they were placed—a situation
which could not have occurred in pure nature.
For even supposing the caterpillars had fallen
on to, or otherwise attained the rim of the pot,
the circumstance would still be indirectly at-
tributable to man—the man who, artificially,
made the pot.

The fixed laws of subconscious mind cannot
be altered to suit unnatural conditions. Its
action under the circumstances, therefore,
would be to urge the caterpillars forward, and,
at the same time, protect them from falling
off the rim, which would have the effect of
keeping them clinging to it; but in no way
would it help them out of an impasse, seem-
ingly simple, yet so impossible where no reason-
ing mind exists.

The above experiment suggests the amateur
watchmaker, who after meddling with works
he does not properly understand, either stops
the clock or renders the action irregular.

Fabre, in his Merveilles de l’Instinct chez les
Insects, tells us that the processionary cater-
pillars are guided by the silk each leaves
behind as it goes along, and, by this means, he

36 “LE RAIL SOYEUX”

says, the larve find their way back to the nest.
But, as regards the processionary march, the
leader can have nothing to guide him, nor
would the thread serve when crossing a dusty
high-road or wind-swept sandy ground.

Were these caterpillars solely dependent on
“ le rail soyeux,”’ as Fabre terms it, they would
soon become disbanded and so lose touch of one
another. Le fil luisant, however, is an invalu-
able safeguard against falling from slippery
situations—the narrow rim of a flower-pot, for
instance ; for it ensures secure footing, and,
moreover, it is a natural precaution which is
common to most arboreal larve, especially in
their younger stages; were it not so, they
would risk being blown or washed from the
trees.

That this thread is instrumental in guiding
the larve to the nest is hardly probable, seeing
that the whole of the branch is matted with it.
When a larva has fallen from the leaf and is
left suspended in the air the thread is useful
in helping it up again, but on gaining the leaf
the creature must depend on its sense of
direction.

Though none quite so remarkable as the
processionary larve, there are many other
species of gregarious caterpillars who “ follow
the leader”? in much the same way. For

THE BUFF TIP 37

example, we have a British species, the Buff-
Tip (Pygera bucephala). As in the former
instance, the. moth deposits ova in batches on
the undersides of the leaves of oak, sallow, etc.
The larve, on hatching, occupy a single leaf,
and when this is demolished proceed to the
next, and so on, until they attain a size when
one leaf will not contain them all; still, they
do not wander further than the adjacent
leaves. Eventually, the twig being stripped,
the party with one accord makes a retrograde
movement, marching back down the stem to
the first or second bifurcation, thence travel-
ling upwards to start feeding in a fresh place ;
or, it may be, they will proceed to quite another
part of the tree before resuming their chief
business in life. These communities, however,
do not form a nest or spin a matted web ; but
when nearly full grown, members are inclined
to stray, though this is not invariably the case.

Larve of the Small Eggar Moth (Eriogaster
lanestris) form colonies and spin an irregular
web on whitethorn.

Several species of British butterflies (Vanes-
side) dwell together in companies, and one of
the Flitillary group (Melitea aurinia) colon-
izes, the larve sheltering throughout the
winter under a dense web spread over the
scabious plant.

38 GREGARIOUS SAW-FLIES

The same is noted among micro-lepidop-
tera: the web of the small ermine moth
festoons, locally, every hedge and bush.

Larve of some of the Saw-Flies are strictly
gregarious, and may be commonly seen
encircling the leaves of poplar, sallow and
other trees ; clinging to the outer edge of the
leaf they form a kind of fringe. As regards
the collector of lepidoptera these creatures are
worthless, andit may be a “‘ tip ”’ to the young
entomologist to know that they can at once
be identified by a dark spot on either side of
the head which looks like an eye, but is not ;
and also from the fact that these larve have
no “‘claspers,’’ but use their tails, which are
more or less prehensile.

I particularly mention these species because
they have a curious habit when approached of
curling up their tails simultaneously, a pro-
tective precaution, and one calculated to
startle a too inquisitive bird; but the point
to note is the unzformity of the action.

Although the lepidopterist has no use for
saw-flies, nevertheless they represent a very
interesting class which a specialist might do
well to study, as there is still much to be
learned concerning them. The preliminary
stages and general appearance of these insects
is very similar to those of lepidoptera, and yet

TELEPATHIC MIND-BLENDING 39

the final development has no resemblance
whatever beyond, perhaps, the fact that the
imago possesses four wings in which, and in
other respects, it differs entirely from ordinary
dipterous flies.

The above are all examples of telepathic
mind-blending without which (in the writer’s
belief) it would be impossible for a group of
sightless creatures to keep together, and in
many cases to work together for the good of
the community.

Although there be many (body) units there
is only one (subconscious) mind; a mind,
albeit, that knows its business and will, if
uninterrupted, infallibly carry out the life-
scheme to a successful issue.

Small and insignificant as the creatures may
appear (size is only relative), it would be
foolish to suppose they have no mind. Life,
however lowly, could have no place or meaning
without mind; not personal intelligence, for
that does not obtain in the Animal World,
but mind which is linked with the All-Knowing
and, therefore, independent of mental effort.

CHAPTER VII

NESTS OF BIRDS

Every schoolboy knows the difference between
a blackbird’s and a thrush’s nest. Here we
have two distinct birds closely allied and of
much the same habits, building their nests in
similar situations and using the same kind of
materials, but, with this marked difference,
that whereas the blackbird’s is lined with dead
grasses, the thrush plasters the interior of her
structure with mud which on drying becomes
as hard and smooth as the inside of a cup.
And so with the thousands of different kinds
of birds all over the world ; no two distinct
species build exactly alike. In some cases the
difference is so slight that the casual observer
is puzzled to tell them apart, but the expert
has but to see an empty nest to identify the
architect.

Some nests of our British warblers—the
whitethroat class, for instance, are almost
identical. These structures consist solely of
dead grass-stems with a lining of hair, but

40

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*(snqiyo01y sndoosoi|4yq )
UATAYVM MOTTIIM AO LSUN

THE WILLOW AND WOOD WARBLERS 41
even these can be identified by the practised
eye.

Two little migrants, the Willow Warbler
(Phylloscopus trochilus) and the Wood Warbler
(P. sibilatrix), build similar oven-shaped nests
on or close to the ground. Though outwardly
resembling one another, there is no difficulty
in distinguishing them. It is a curious fact,
that whilst the willow warbler elects to line
her nest with massed feathers, the wood
warbler never uses a single feather as lining.

No matter in what country these birds are
known to build, this is invariably the case. It
is impossible to conjecture a reason for this
divergence. Why, we may ask, should feathers
not be used in both cases, or in neither case,
when the habits and mode of life of these two
species is practically the same? We may feel
sure, however, that this arrangement is not
without design; when understood, nature’s
adaptations are always purposeful. Again we
marvel, how can the one bird know that in her
case feathers must be collected and placed for
a lining, and in the other that feathers must
not be taken inside the nest ? Such knowledge
in these tiny creatures is not of themselves,
acquired, but spontaneous—of the Absolute.

The nests of these warblers are so wonder-
fully concealed in the undergrowth of woods

42 THE WATER OUZEL

that unless the bird is watched, or accidentally
put off, it is next to impossible to find the nest ;
even when the bird has been started, it takes
some time to discover the edifice. But the
owner has no difficulty in finding it ; she comes
straight home to the very spot. In pure
nature there never is any question of losing
the way; creatures return naturally to the
domicile of whatever description ; but if, in
the meantime, the habitation has been inter-
fered with or moved from the original site,
the creature is baffled, and only by chance
discovers it.

Although some of nature’s schemes are
difficult to follow, there are others which speak
for themselves. For example, the water ouzel,
a bird which belongs to the same order as the
blackbird, builds a blackbird’s nest, but she
covers it with a roof. Why? Because the site
is always a damp situation (generally under a
bridge or overhanging rock), and the mossy
dome protects the nest from the continuous
drips of water.

I have always thought this a particularly
notable instance of subconscious foresight.

Another remarkable example of nature’s
foreknowledge is shown in the case of the
Crowned-Hornbill (Lophoceros melanoleucus),
a South African species. This bird nests in the

THE CROWNED HORNBILL B

hollow of a tree, and being of fair proportions
requires a hole large enough to admit its
body, which means that the aperture is open
to the incursion of wild cats and such-like
marauders with which the country is infested.

Now comes what appears extraordinary
intelligence on the part of the birds. When
incubation commences and the female has
taken up her position on the eggs, the male
bird, from the outside, plasters up the entrance
with a compost (chiefly excreta) which forms
an impervious cement ; but, at the same time,
he is careful to leave a narrow slit through
which his imprisoned spouse can just protrude
her bill. Here, incarcerated, she remains
throughout the period of incubation and until
the brood is fledged, whilst her faithful mate,
day after day, brings all they need in the form
of food, which is duly passed through the slit.
When the time comes the prison wall is hacked
out by the male bird, and the whole party
emerge. It will be seen that the bill of the
hornbill is a wonderful modification, doubtless
intended for the very purpose of breaking
down the concrete substance of the barrier.
All the hornbills, of which there are many
species, have extraordinary bills, seemingly
out of all proportion to their persons, and
strongly suggest a pickaxe.

44 THE LONG-TAILED TIT

It is said of the crowned hornbill, that if
an untoward accident befalls the male during
the period of incubation, the neighbours (horn-
bills) attend to the wants of the widow and
orphans, and let them out in due course.

A British species, the Nuthatch (Sitta
Europea), also has this habit of plastering up
the entrance to her nest when the opening is
larger than the circumference of her body.
The intention is the same, viz., to keep out
vermin of a predatory nature.

As a purely natural structure a bird’s nest
is a wonderfully beautiful object. Let us
examine some of these “homes without
hands.” Take, for instance, the nest of the
Long-tailed Tit (Parus caudatus), and observe
how this exquisite fabric is bedecked with
lichens which match the surroundings, and
how the interior is lined with the softest
feathers in order to preserve the fragile little
eggs from being crushed against any chance
hard substance contained in the inner walls of
the nest. The whole is admirable ;—one of
nature’s masterpieces. Now look at the
builders themselves and note the diminutive
beak, the only tool employed in raising this
marvellous structure whose walls are com-
posed of moss and lichen interwoven with
spider’s web. Although it is a comparatively

NEST OF LONG-TAILED TIT
(Parus caudatus).

(Facing page 44.

“Sh and surav 7]

“(SHJeISIIO sN[NFay)
SNTONSAY CALSAYI-NAA10D JO LSAN

THE GOLDEN-CRESTED REGULUS 45
large nest the architect has the distinction of
being one of the smallest British birds; but
what a mind (subconscious) invests this
diminutive body! Human intelligence with
all the appliances in the world could not
fashion a like structure and endow it with the
same elasticity and compactness.

Excluding the Golden Oriole (Oriolus gal-
bula), an occasional visitor, the Golden-
crested Regulus (miscalled wren) is the only
British bird that builds a pendent nest, and
a very beautiful nest it is when seen suspended
beneath the bough of a fir-tree.

Hanging nests call for particular notice
because they are built on a different system,
the reverse, in fact, to an ordinary nest. That
is to say, a bird that builds in the fork of a
tree begins her work by placing material in
the hollow and works upwards, from a founda-
tion ; but the pensile nest must necessarily
be commenced from above and so continued
downwards ; also the lappings must be very
firmly bound and secured to the overhead
supports, as from these depend the whole
fabric, plus the weight of the bird and her
clutch.

The gold-crest’s nest, however, is com-
paratively a simple structure to some of the
hanging nests of foreign species, which should

46 THE NESTS OF PIGEONS

be seen in situ to be really appreciated.
Indeed, there would appear to be no limits to
the ingenious (the only word) and at the same
time esthetic adaptations whereby nature
adjusts herself to the surroundings.

The most primitive nests are those of the
pigeons, themselves of very ancient descent.
The ancestors of all the pigeons nested in
caves and cavernous rocks, which is still the
habit of the Rock Dove (Columba livia), from
which our domesticated pigeons have sprung,
and to a lesser extent the Stock Dove (C.
cenas). The latter, however, has taken more
to the open, though it still retains the habit of
nesting in dark places—holes in trees, or on
the top of old nests of crows, hawks, squirrels,
etc., when overhung and darkened by fir
boughs. One more step into the light and we
have the largest British pigeon, the Ring Dove
(C. palumbus), which builds the same primitive
nest but which is openly exposed—a few
sticks loosely spread through which the two
white eggs, usually associated with birds who
nest in dark places, are visible when looked at
from beneath. But though primitive and
fragile, the wood-pigeon’s nest seems to answer
nature’s purpose, judging from the enormous
flocks seen in many districts after the nesting
season. In this case no modification was

NESTS COMPOSED OF STICKS 47
necessary, but there are many species of birds
who use practically nothing but sticks and yet
build stable and elaborate nests ; the magpie
isanexample. The magpie has the reputation
of being a particularly cunning bird, which
some might say accounts for the cleverly
constructed tectum he puts over the top of
the nest, which effectually conceals the eggs,
and is a protection against plunderers in
general. The magpie builds a solitary nest
with no attempt at concealment, therefore a
covering of this kind is more necessary than
it would be, say, in the case of the rook
who, surrounded by neighbours, has less to
fear from outsiders, there being always a
certain number of birds left to guard the
rookery.

Perhaps the most artful builder using sticks
only is the Firewood-Gatherer (Anumbius
acuticaudatus) of South America. The nest
of this bird is certainly a marvel for strength
and compactness considering the unyielding
nature of the material. A specimen of this
nest may be seen at the Natural History
Museum, South Kensington. Bound up with
the sticks there appear some strands of iron
wire which, the writer would say, add un-
naturally to the stability of the nest. It is

said that the bird frequently uses the cross-
E

48 THE FIREWOOD-GATHERER

bars on telegraph poles as a site for the nest,
and no doubt the wire left by the workmen
had been picked up and unconsciously utilized
by the birds. This is sometimes pointed out
as an act of intelligence.

“gh asnd sussvz]

*(e[oaam1 snpin)
CMTINOVTH AO LSAN

CHAPTER VIII
EGGS OF BIRDS

In the same way that the nests of birds differ
in appearance and structure, according to
species, so do their eggs, even eggs that are
purely white have some specific differences ;
the size of the egg, its shape, the consistency
of the shell surface (smooth or rough) and the
quality of the whiteness, must all be taken
into account. Purely white eggs, as I have
said, are usually found in situations where
light does not penetrate, or else are the eggs of
birds whose ancestors nested in dark places, as
in the case of the pigeons.

From white we come to tinted eggs uni-
formly coloured, graduating from very light
shades to intense colour, such as the pure
immaculate blue of the hedge-sparrow’s egg.
The lightest coloured eggs (not purely white)
are those of aquatic birds. It should be noted
that some of the ducks nest in the dark. The
common wild duck occasionally builds in the
hollow of a tree; the shell-duck invariably

49

50 COLOURS AND MARKINGS ON EGGS

has her clutch in holes (rabbit holes) under
ground. The majority of birds, however, lay
maculate eggs of great beauty and attractive-
ness.

Now, the question arises, wherefore are
birds’ eggs thus beautifully marked and
coloured? When birds build no nest, but lay
their eggs on the bare ground, or amongst
shingle and stones, the markings no doubt are
protective ; but only from the fact that the
blotches and spots, taken in conjunction with
the surroundings, break up the outline of the
eggs; the effect would be just the same what-
ever the colours, so long as the eggs were
spotted.

There are, of course, various theories to
account for the colours and markings on birds’
eggs. For instance, in the case of the hedge-
sparrow’s egg, Mr. E. Kay Robinson, the dis-
tinguished field-naturalist and authority on
these matters, suggests the reason why hedge-
sparrows’ eggs are so deeply coloured, is that
they shall act as a warning to browsing
animals. An animal, he says, in the act of
feeding on low-growing shrubs, suddenly dis-
closing a hedge-sparrow’s nest, is startled by
the appearance of the intensely blue eggs, and
so ceases to rummage in that particular spot ;
the nest is thus saved from destruction which

of oSpd s19v.7)

*(SHe[Npott 10;0a99y)
MOUYUVdS-AOGAH AO LSAN

THE HEDGE-SPARROW’S EGG 51

otherwise might have been dislodged. The
idea is quite in keeping with some of nature’s
schemes, and coming from such authority
deserves due consideration. Personally, how-
ever, I think that this proposition is invali-
dated by the fact that the hedge-sparrow
rarely if ever places her nest in a position
where it is possible for browsing animals to
approach it. The hedge-sparrow’s nest is
almost invariably situated well inside some
prickly bush, a quickset hedge, a woodstack
or pile of faggots ; in any case, in a position
where large animals cannot get at it. In fact,
I should say that if there is one small bird’s
nest fairly secure from the inroads of browsing
animals it is the hedge-sparrow’s.

The sight of any colour other than green,
where green is expected, might very possibly
deter animals from making further investiga-
tions in that particular spot ; unless, of course,
the animal should be attracted by curiosity,
but this is hardly likely in the case of so small
an object as a bird’s nest.

To my mind the colours and markings on
birds’ eggs are not necessarily intended for
utilitarian purposes. Like the natural grace
of the birds themselves, the loveliness of
flowers, the exquisite tints of sea-shells, the
splendour of butterflies’ wings and a thousand

52 THE GUILLEMOT’S EGG

other beautiful, natural objects are purely
esthetic expressions of the Spirit which
underlies everything.

Though birds’ eggs can generally be identi-
fied by characteristic markings peculiar to the
species, they vary considerably, both as regards
the species and also the eggs laid by a single
individual. Guillemots’ eggs are perhaps the
most variable.

For the information of those who may be
unacquainted with the habits of this marine
species, I may mention that Guillemots (Uria
troile) nest together in large companies on the
rocks in more or less inaccessible places, the
eggs being laid on the bare ledges of the rocks.
Each bird lays a single egg, but, in several
respects, a remarkable one. To begin with,
the egg is enormous for the size of the bird; its
shape, too, is peculiar. The small end, it will
be noticed, tapers out to a point ; no two eggs
are exactly alike ; the spots and blotches, as
a rule, are very numerous, though occasionally
an egg has few spots, and sometimes it is quite
plain.

The reason for the shape of the guillemot’s
egg is obvious. By placing this egg on a
smooth table and blowing upon it, it will be
seen that instead of shifting from its position,
the egg merely twists round on its axis ; thus,

‘cS ased su19v.7)

“(@|f01) PII)
(ged) VAI UVIdOd NO ATd-MVS JO AVAUVT

DISSIMILARITY OF GUILLEMOTS’ EGGS 53
when exposed on the rocks the wind has little
power to move the eggs from their “ seats.”

This special modification is, as I have said,
for an obvious purpose; but to account for
the dissimilarity of the eggs is not quite so
apparent, though, probably, it is due to
idiosyncratic excretion and distribution of the
pigment. The occasional occurrence of a plain
egg rather points to this conclusion. Still,
there is what, at first sight, appears a most
plausible explanation, and one which is
accepted even by naturalists. It is this:
Guillemots lay diversified eggs so that each
bird may recognize her own egg when return-
ing after an absence.

From the human point of view nothing
could be more veasonable. But in these pages
we are not studying the Animal World from
our own outlook, but, if possible, from the
plane on which the creatures themselves
function.

Personally, I can hardly imagine a guillemot
wading about amongst hundreds of others in
search of her own particular egg, and perhaps
thinking to herself, ‘‘ I wonder if this is my
egg; the markings seem to tally? ”’

If the above notion is the true interpreta-
tion, then it follows that the guillemot is
capable of reflecting on abstract matters,

54 CHANGING THE POSITION OF EGGS

which, of course, would invalidate this treatise.
For there cannot be two ways about it : either
the bird does reason, or it does not, and what
applies to one creature applies to all of them.

It might be supposed that the matter could
be put to the test by changing the eggs ; but
though it might be possible to keep these in
view, it must be quite impossible to identify
the owners, who resemble one another abso-
lutely. However, if such could be done I
think it would be found that the birds
returned, each to the identical spot where its
egg had been ; in fact, where it had been laid ;
and, so long as the birds found eggs reposing
on these same spots, they would be content
to cover them, whether their own property
or not.

It may seem ruthless to attempt to shatter
a romance at once so popular and attractive;
but in the interests of science progress we must
not be led away by sentimentality. Much
harm is done to the cause of true knowledge
by accrediting the Animal World with human
attributes and sentiments which, without self-
consciousness, the creatures cannot possibly
possess.

The eggs of plovers, woodcock, snipe and
some of the waders, though not elongated to
the same extent as those of guillemots, are

EGGS OF PLOVERS 55

modified on the same lines, and it is a curious
fact that eggs of this description always, with-
out exception, lie in the nest (or depression in
the ground) with the small ends pointing
inwards, thus indicating a natural scheme and
not individual fancy on the part of the bird.
Like the petals of a flower radiating from the
calyx, the “clutch ”’ presents a beautiful and
symmetrical form. Even here, where unper-
ceived perhaps by any (human) appreciative
eye, nature still displays esthetic design. But,
to return to the practical. It would be in-
teresting to know how the eggs come to be so
arranged? Are they duly laid in this posi-
tion, or are they subsequently adjusted by the
bird? For my part I am inclined to think the
eggs are laid in their proper position. At the
same time, supposing the bird to adjust the
egg after laying it, the fact would not be more
remarkable than is the act of arranging her
materials when shaping the nest. But how-
ever this may be, perfect knowledge obtains
as to what has to be done and when and how
to do it, but it is not conscious knowledge.

CHAPTER IX
AN ADDLED EGG

THoucH I cannot believe birds capable of
recognizing their eggs by particular markings,
I have every reason to think that a bird knows
(subconsciously) when an egg is addled, in the
same way that a dormouse or squirrel knows,
and rejects without opening it, a bad nut.

(What domesticated poultry may or may
not do, in regard to infertile, or addled eggs,
is no criterion, because, not only are they
mixed breeds, but bred specially for their
laying and brooding qualities, and, moreover,
are not living under natural conditions.)

To give an instance which, if not positive
proof, is very strong evidence that a bird
knows an addled egg.

In my bird’s-nesting days I was keen
to procure the eggs of the Pied Flycatcher
(Muscicapa atricapilla). Having located a
pair of these birds I eventually discovered the
nesting-place in a hole of a decaying tree, some

fifteen to eighteen feet from the ground. On
56

THE PIED FLYCATCHER 37

climbing up to it, I espied four light blue eggs
resting within and a little below the orifice,
which, however, did not permit of the passage
of my hand. There was nothing to be done
without tools; I therefore determined to
return next day duly provided with chisel and
mallet. The place was a preserve, and not
being particularly anxious to be caught by the
keeper, I did not return till evening. On
again “‘swarming’’ up the stump I noted
several holes below the one containing the
nest, evidently the work of the barred wood-
pecker. Arriving at the top, I beheld the four
light-blue eggs as before, but on getting to
work found the job more difficult than I had
anticipated on account of there being no sup-
port for my feet, consequently the cutting out
business was slow and exhausting. In the
meanwhile, it was getting dark, so that I was
obliged to give up for that day; however, I
had succeeded in opening out the hole to some
extent. After climbing the tree on the follow-
ing day I was surprised, and at the same time
greatly disappointed, on finding the nest con-
tained only one egg, along with some chips
which had fallen through during the previous
day’s work.

This egg, however, I was determined to
have, and in due course extracted it intact.

58 THE PIED FLYCATCHER

Whilst on my way down I chanced to look at
the hole next below the one I had been at work
on, and to my astonishment beheld three blue
eggs reposing inside. Had these eggs been
there all along I could hardly have missed
seeing them when passing up and down the
tree. Now, as the pied flycatcher was dis-
tinctly a rare bird in these parts and, for
that matter, nowhere common, I could only
conclude that the pair had moved, or were
in the act of moving their eggs to a place
of safety. This discovery so impressed me
that I decided, then and there, not to interfere
further with the birds or their treasures, so
returned home with my one specimen. But
this egg was to prove (at all events to me) a
revelation in Natural History. It was an
addled egg, and my firm belief is that the birds
left it because it was addled and therefore,
from nature’s point of view, of no account.

It may appear more extraordinary that a
bird should know a bad egg which shows no
signs exteriorly, than to identify one by its
particular markings. But this, in my opinion,
is just the point which marks the difference
between the reasoning and the instinctive
mind. The reasoning mind acts on impres-
sions from without; the instinctive or sub-
conscious mind, sees from within.

THE PIED FLYCATCHER 59

To take note of the particular markings on
an egg and subsequently to identify it when
lying among others which resemble it, would
not be impossible or perhaps difficult for the
reasoning mind, but it involves consideration,
which implies the faculty of thinking. Animals
do not possess this faculty, but they have
unerring intuition.

With regard to the incident above related,
it is, of course, open to readers to form their
own conclusions; I can only say the facts
occurred exactly as stated. How the birds
removed their eggs I do not pretend to say,
but it is well known that animals and birds do
shift their belongings on occasions when danger
threatens them, and there is still time to effect
a removal. I myself have seen, on more than
one occasion, a wild duck carrying (flying) her
young from the nest to a distant piece of
water. As the bird made a number of trips, I
imagined she was carrying one only at a time.
On another occasion the duck, on catching
sight of me, suddenly altered her course and,
at the same time, let fall a duckling which
landed unhurt on a quickset hedge. Here,
again, I could not be sure that this was the
only one carried.

My impression is that during transit the
youngster (or two) lies hunched up under the

60 REMOVING THEIR EGGS AND YOUNG

abdominal feathers supported by the legs of
the parent.

Woodcocks are known to carry their chicks,
and the cuckoo, by means of its bill, lifts the
egg into someone else’s nest. Therefore the
removal of their eggs by the pied flycatchers
is by no means an impossible feat.

It might be argued that if a bird is aware of
a bad egg, she should (irrespective of markings)
be equally capable of knowing her own egg by
means of the same faculty, call it ‘‘ inward
perception.”’ I admit it would be quite pos-
sible if it were necessary. But, in my belief,
it is not necessary in nature’s scheme that a
bird shall recognize her own egg. Nature’s
only concern in the fertile, living egg is that
the contents shall be hatched out into the
world, and, so long as this is accomplished, it
is of no moment as to who actually broods
over it.

The cuckoo’s case shows this very clearly.

Nature having no use for the bad egg, it
goes, so to speak, into the ‘‘ melting-pot ”’ ;
after disintegration the products are used over
again in building up fresh organisms.

For the sake of convenience I have used the
expression, “‘ a bird is aware of an addled egg.”’
Perhaps it would be more correct to say that,
so far as the bird, an unreasoning creature, is

BIRD IGNORES BAD EGG 61

concerned, an effete egg is non-existent ; there
being no life in it, all connection between the
bird and the egg ceases ; thus the bird ignores
the egg because, mentally, she is unaware of it.
Hence, notwithstanding its perfect outward
resemblance to the others, the pied flycatcher
takes no notice of the rotten egg, but leaves
it in the nest along with the chips and other
rubbish.

CHAPTER X
THE POWER OF FLIGHT

WirtH the exception of insects, of which there
are very ancient traces, the power of flight
seems first to have developed in the Reptilian
Order, though there it has since lapsed. Then
winged birds appeared on the earth, and now
each of the remaining great Natural Divisions:
viz., Aves, Pisces and Mammalia, have flying
representatives. Had the power of flight not
so developed, it is possible that man, who takes
his cue from nature, might never have dis-
covered the fact that a body can be supported
and moved in an element lighter than itself.
Though man has always had the true model, it
was long before he succeeded in imitating, in
some degree, the flight of a bird—amazing
result of natural evolution.

The aeroplane, a wonderful contrivance of
man’s skill and ingenuity, would seem the
nearest approach to natural flight he is ever
likely to achieve; for though modified and
improved, it must always remain what it is,

62

THE POWER OF FLIGHT 63

a machine—a mechanism apart from the
operator whose very life depends on the
efficiency of its moving parts. But this is not
so with the bird, whose wings are parts of
itself over which it has absolute command—
wings ever ready and fit to cope with any
possible eccentricity of the atmosphere.
Flying is as natural to a bird as the act of
walking is to man ; in neither case is instruc-
tion necessary, the power develops of itself,
subconsciously. Fond mothers, however, are
under the impression they teach their infants
to walk, but this of course is not really the
case. If left entirely to its own devices a child
would walk on its own account so soon as its
legs are strong enough to support the weight
of the body. Like its primeval ancestors, an
infant begins by moving about on all fours ;
after awhile it instinctively clutches a fixed
support (as it might be a tree) and pulls itself
up to an erect position, which throws weight
on the legs and so strengthens them. This is
the first step ina natural way. The next is to
totter from one support to another close at
hand. As strength increases supports are no
longer necessary, and man in the making steps
out into the world an erect form, not of his
own volition, but the upright creature nature
intended him to be.
F

64 LEGS AND WINGS

Looking into nature, we note that the chicks
of game-birds and others (ground birds) run
off immediately after hatching, and ducklings
sometimes fall out of the eggshell into the
water where they swim, compatibly with their
size, as lustily as the parent. These are not
taught ; they have nothing to learn; the know-
ledge of how to do it comes subconsciously.
The legs, in these instances, are already stout
and strongly developed. On the other hand,
the legs of arboreal birds when first hatched
are weak and powerless to support the body ;
but this class depends on wing power morethan
legs for locomotion, therefore whilst the flight-
feathers are growing there is time enough for
the legs to develop. For this reason the birds
are confined in a nest until the legs and wings
are fit for service. On quitting the nest the
young birds are capable of perching and
making short flights when occasion demands.
The first attempt at flight is, of course, barely
more than a flutter, resulting from lack of
strength rather than ignorance of how to make
use of the wings.

That birds teach their young to fly is a
common belief, and, moreover, one for which
there is some sort of foundation. But when
studying nature we should be careful not to
be deceived by appearances. Let us see how

DECEPTIVE APPEARANCES 65

this works out. For instance, the young of
small birds, sparrows, finches and the like,
shortly after leaving the nest, fly at random
into the trees and thus become separated.
Having found suitable perches these young
birds, if undisturbed, remain quietly in the
same places hidden amongst the foliage, where
the parents find them and for some days con-
tinue to feed them at regular intervals. Inthe
meanwhile, the tail and wing feathers of the
fledglings are growing out to their full length.
It is now the birds begin to move about and
are prepared to seek their own living. But the
immediate surroundings (a plantation, it may
be) do not offer the kind of food suited to this
class of bird, therefore the old birds are seen
to come to the rescue. Uttering call notes,
they attract and induce the fledglings to
follow them; the latter flutter in the wake of
their parents, who lead the way to the nearest
field or open space bordering on the planta-
tion; here, on the ground, the young ones
begin to pick up food for themselves.
Another example of what seems to be an
exhibition of parental schooling is when a pair
of swans is seen flapping along the surface of
the water followed by all the cygnets. With
great noise and the splashing of many wings,
the spectacle is pleasing and always attracts

66 TEACHING THEIR YOUNG TO FLY (?)

attention. On nearing the margin of the pool
the whole party fold their wings and plough
through the water until the impetus is spent ;
facing round they repeat the performance,
returning whence they came. This demon-
stration, which is repeated daily, has all the
appearance of a lesson in aviation. Beholders
exclaim: “‘ Look at the swans teaching their
young ones to fly!’’ And it certainly does
look like it. But I believe that if the parent
swans could be interrogated, they would say :
“The object of this aquatic demonstration is
not to teach the youngsters how to fly, for that
knowledge would come to them in any case,
naturally ; but simply to get rid of them.
After a few trials we manage to get the cygnets
up into the air and then take them away to
the sea or the larger lakes, and if they attempt
to return, much as we love them, we are com-
pelled to drive them away; for you will
observe that this piece of water is of small
dimensions, and therefore not calculated to
maintain more than our two selves after the
winter has set in.”

And so it is, a pair of swans take possession
of a small lake or pond and make it their
home for life. If there is an island on the lake,
so much the better, it will surely be chosen as
a nesting site.

REPLENISHING THE EARTH 67

The water and surroundings are in every
way suited to a pair of birds together with
their brood for the summer, when the weed is
abundant, but the place cannot permanently
accommodate a number of these large birds,
therefore the young must be sent off elsewhere
to shift for themselves.

A law of nature decrees that as each genera-
tion comes into existence it shall be seasonally
scattered and distributed broadcast in order
that gaps may be filled and the earth replen-
ished. The old swans, in the meanwhile, have
no conscious knowledge of these, nature’s
great schemes, but being one with nature are
subconsciously impressed to act in certain
ways at definite times and seasons. This they
do with the utmost regularity and punctu-
ality, not only swans but all wild-life, animal
and vegetable alike.

Swans are “‘exposers’”’; they do not seek
protection under cover, but face an enemy
boldly in the open even to the point of attack,
and at the breeding season clear the precincts
of the nest of every living creature. So fierce
are they when engaged with their domestic
affairs that to approach the nest is a matter of
some danger ; but though on occasion roused
to fits of anger, the mated (for life) couple show
great affection and attachment for each other.

68 HOW BIRDS RECOGNIZE ONE ANOTHER

Swans resemble one another to an extent
that makes it next to impossible to identify
any particular bird when a number are col-
lected together. We can, however, note the
males, females and cygnets; otherwise, any
one in its class is as like to another as it is
possible to be.

Now the question is, how do the birds manage
to pair off with their rightful owners when many
are together in company (a herd of swans) ?

To suppose that a husband, in bird life,
can recognize his wife by facial or other dis-
tinguishing features, would imply that we are
still stumbling over the old obstacle—reasoning
mind.

To recognize and identify anything from
outward appearances means, at least, mo-
mentary consideration. But, we have agreed,
birds don’t think, not even for a moment (to
think is impossible without word-forms) ;
therefore, to scrutinize a mate with a view to
identification cannot be done without con-
scious mental effort. Birds have no need of
any effort of the kind, because, within a
certain ared, telepathy unites them; in the
case of a mated couple the connecting link is
yet stronger. Thus the birds pair off together,
whether in the daytime, or at night, without
necessarily calling to one another.

TELEPATHY A POTENTIAL FACULTY 69

As I said at the commencement of this
treatise, telepathy is only just traceable in
man ; the power has declined proportionately
as his self-conscious mind assumed control.
It is therefore no longer essential. But in the
Animal World telepathy is a potential faculty
which inter-connects subconscious mind ; the
creatures are thus en rapport ; silent inter-
course is established which, in my belief,
accounts for the combined movements and
achievements where two or more work to-
gether in perfect sympathy without language
or direction. If this is so, it is possible to
understand how a pair of birds, between them,
construct a nest.

Telepathy is the capacity for responding to
spiritual vibration under sympathetic action.
Sympathy is the one great power throughout
nature.

Sympathy is Love—love which engenders
all things. ...

The swan (Cygnus olor) is the heaviest
British bird that flies. The wings of a swan
are extremely powerful, and when cleaving
the air make a whistling sound which can be
heard for a long distance.

The weight of a full-grown swan is about
30 lb., and the stretch of wings over 6 ft. The

70 WINGS STRUCTURALLY ALIKE

golden-crested regulus weighs 80 grains, with
a wing extension of 6in. The wings of both
species are structurally alike, and so are the
wings of all birds. The feathering system,
subject to modifications, is also the same
throughout. This clearly shows that the wing
of a bird is the best possible design for the
purpose. It has been naturally evolved and
apparently reached finality, for it is incon-
ceivable that flight could be more perfect
than manifested by some birds. For instance,
the majestic flight of an eagle, the marvel-
lous aerial evolutions performed by the swift,
or the lightning rapidity of the humming-
bird’s flight, only to mention three. In truth,
these aviators, each in its own realm, holds
complete mastery of the air.

‘of adv su1svy

*(B[[atayAs eonsing)
LVOUHLALIHM YASSAT JO LSAN

CHAPTER XI

DIFFERENT MODES OF FLIGHT

IT has never been quite determined how a bird
flies. Flight differs according to the species,
and is characteristic in so far that we can
generally tell what manner of bird it is from
the style of flight. Some birds fly in a straight
line, some with an undulating flight, and others
erratically. Then there are the slow and
rapid fliers; but when all is said, the wing
action is the same, viz., a straight up-and-
down movement, more or less rapid.

It may be said that a straight up-and-down
flapping action, though it may have the effect
of lifting a bird into the air, would not propel
it in a forward direction on a level plane.
Some believe that the forward motion is
obtained by a “‘ scooping” action ; it is said
that the wing moves in the form of a figure 8,
something on the principle of an oar when
pulled or pushed through the water and
‘feathered ’’ back into position for the next
stroke, a mode of propulsion which serves well

71

ve: OBSERVING BIRD-FLIGHT

enough when the movements are compara-
tively slow, for there is then time to effect
them, but in the case of the bird there is no
time for a complicated movement, a double
action, as it were, at each succeeding wing-
beat.

This principle, it seems to me, would
scarcely apply to a humming-bird, for exam-
ple, a bird that vibrates its wings with such
rapidity as to become invisible, and which, as
the name implies, produce a musical note.
The humming-bird’s wing is modelled in the
same way as other birds, therefore we may
presume they are actuated in the same way,
only faster.

As bird-flight can be witnessed at any
time, it is better to study it practically than
theorize about it. When flying, birds should
be watched from different points of view ;
from above, from underneath, laterally, and,
at the same time, as closely as may be.
Given, then, that all birds fly on the same
principle, if not in the same form, we shall do
well to mark the wing action of a slow flier,
in which case each stroke of the wing can be
distinctly seen. A heron, for instance, is a
slow mover, and, therefore, a good subject for
study in this respect, the only objection being
that the bird is wary and difficult of approach;

THE HERON: A SLOW FLYER 73

but opportunities do occur. As a matter of
fact, they occur frequently in the experience
of anglers. When a heron, suddenly surprised,
flies from the bed of a stream, what does the
angler note? After the first awkward rise in
which the bird nearly overbalances in its
efforts to get clear of the bushes, the wings
assume their normal action—a steady up-and-
down flap-flapping—and though no “ scoop-
ing’ can be detected, the bird gathers way
and is soon out of range.

Though they serve perfectly for this par-
ticular bird’s requirements, the wings of the
heron are cumbersome and obviously ill-
adapted to eccentric movements such as
“scooping”? must entail. Therefore it seems
unlikely that any such action exists; at all
events, it is not apparent.

Among slow-flying birds may be included
the rook, lapwing (green plover) and gulls.
The flight of the black-headed gull can be
investigated at close range when these birds
are being fed with bread, which, by the way,
they catch very deftly.

The black-headed gull (Larus ridibundus)
appears a much larger bird than it really is,
which is due to a dense coating of light body-
feathers and large expanse of wing. Though
the body is light the wings are strong and

94 PIGEONS’ FLIGHT

muscular. The result of this is that when
the bird flies with energy, the body is
“hoisted” at each downward beat of the
wings, instead of maintaining a level plane
as in the case of most birds. This uneven
motion ceases when the gull “glides.” In
this instance we can detect nothing be-
yond a simple up-and-down flapping of the
wings.

Pigeons illustrate another style of flight.
Now tame pigeons afford every facility for
observation, and should be watched when
alighting and on rising from the ground at
feeding times. For the most part, beyond
admiring the graceful flight of these creatures,
people pay no particular attention to the ac-
tual system of their flight ; as birds they fly,
naturally, of course, and there it ends. But
I think it might be instructive if those in-
terested were to write, for publication in some
paper, their views on this matter of flight,
which at the present time is of exceptional
interest. Personally, I herein state my own
opinions which, though not necessarily the
true interpretation, may nevertheless be found
suggestive.

A migrant known as the ‘‘ summer-snipe ”’
(Tringoides hypoleucos), arriving in April, and
which frequents streams and the margins of

THE FLIGHT OF SANDPIPERS 75

lakes in this country, shows to advantage the
characteristic flight of the sandpiper tribe.
This speciality of flight is well adapted to birds
whose habit it is to skim lightly over the
surface of the water, or equally over the face
of level sand-tracts. This bird permits of close
inspection when nesting, and the chief point
to note in regard to its flight is the very
short up-and-down movement of the wings,
the scope of action being less than in any other
genus. It would seem that the down-stroke
is suddenly checked when on a level with the
body of the bird, which permits of the sand-
piper flying close to the surface without, at
the same time, touching the water with the
tips of its wings. The space between the bird’s
breast and the water is probably less than an
inch when thus “ flitting ’’ from shore to shore,
for though the tips of the wings never actually
touch the water, little puffs of air in the wake
of the bird may be seen ruffling the surface
when the water is smooth.

This is a very graceful flight, characteristic
of all the sandpipers, but not in the least calcu-
lated for “‘ scooping,” because, as I have said,
the wing-beat is too short to allow of any
secondary movement.

Now that we have considered some of the
different forms of flight, we shall examine

76 ANATOMY OF BIRD’S WING

the wing itself. Without going too deeply
into anatomy, it may be briefly said that
the wing of a bird corresponds to the arm of
the human species, and that the chief bones
include the brachium, antibrachium and
manus (the hand), from which subtends, in
fan-like extension, the “ primaries”’ or flight-
feathers; next in order to these are the
“secondaries,” and above, proceeding from
the shoulder, the scapular feathers which form
the wing cover. There is also a group of stiff
feathers attached to a small spur-like bone
(the thumb) which projects from the meta-
carpus or wrist joint; this is known as the
bastard wing. In the Spur-Winged Plover,
the digit terminates in a hook, and is apparent
outside the plumage.

The wings of birds are curved, some more so
than others. The feathers overlap one another
and lie closely appressed, taking the same line
of curvature, consequently are more or less
bent according to their relative positions on
the wing. The curved shaft of each feather
tapers to a sharp point, which renders the
feathers spring-like and resilient; thus the
feather is seen to bend under pressure from
above, but resists pressure in a contrary
direction. This is the nature of a single
feather, and the same applies exactly to the

WINGS IN ACTION 77

wing taken as a whole; in fact, it is the
valve principle.

To see how this plumous adaptation actually
behaves when in operation it will be necessary
to proceed slowly in order to follow each
movement separately.

The first act is the spreading of the wing.
Unfolding at the elbow, the “arm” is ex-
tended and held in a rigid position at right
angles to the body; set in motion it beats
the air with a uniform straight up-and-down
action. Now, for a moment, supposing in the
place of the wing, we substitute a flat piece of
wood of the same shape and subject it to the
same movement; at the utmost speed it
would never develop lifting power in the
slightest degree, simply because the air presses
equally on both sides ; but in the case of the
wing, the air pressure is mot equal on both
surfaces. At the up-stroke the whole wing
bends to the pressure, which reduces the
surface area whilst the air slides easily from
off the rounded form; at the same time, the
primary and secondary feathers, being un-
supported for their greater length, open out,
allowing passage to the air. Thus it will be
seen that the upper surface of the wing offers
very little resistance. But all this is reversed
at the down-stroke, when the under-surface

78 BIRDS RISING FROM THE GROUND

feathers, subjected to the air-pressure, flatten
up against one another, but are supported by
graduated tiers of feathers at the back, thus
effectually stopping the air ; at the same time
the wing yields to the flattening process, which
naturally tends to increase the surface area.
Therefore it is obvious that when the wings
are actuated in the manner described, uplifting
force is enormously developed.

Presuming the above description virtually
correct, we understand how a bird rises from
the ground ; the angle at which it rises, how-
ever, depends on the species, and also on the
nature of the place it happens to be in at the
time. For instance, a woodcock, surrounded by
dense covert, rises perpendicularly until clearing
the tree-tops, and does so with great rapidity.
Duck, especially teal, fly straight up from a
reed-bed, or from water overhung by trees.

On the other hand, a swan, like an aero-
plane, must “ taxi’’ along the surface before
it can rise. The reason for this is that the
weight of the bird counteracts any attempt at
a spring from the water in the first instance,
consequently the wings lose half their lifting
power by coming in contact with the water;
but once clear it takes an upward inclination,
though this bird can never rise directly above
a certain angle on account of its weight.

THREE MODES OF FLIGHT 79

Having got the bird well up into the air by
means of the uplifting power of the wings, it
now behoves us to investigate the secret of
forward momentum.

Progression through the air, in my belief, is
acquired in three ways, viz., by undulating
flight on outstretched motionless pinions ;
“coasting” flight, and flight resulting from
wing action only; the latter being the ordin-
ary flight of the generality of birds.

Undulating flight on motionless pinions is
confined to “‘ gliders,’’ such as gulls and others.
Several species of the gull tribe, without
stirring their wings, are capable of following,
and even overtaking, a ship against a head
wind, and I have little doubt that a gull or
other ‘‘ soaring” bird, on attaining a certain
altitude, has the power (not that it uses it) to
travel in this fashion indefinitely. Undulating
flight might be compared with the “ switch-
back ”’ system, only more so, because in the
bird’s case, the impetus gained by the down-
ward slope, aided by the wind, suffices to
bring the “‘ glider ’’ back to the same level, or
even above it. This, however, is “ gliding ”’ ;
flying directly through the air is another
matter.

When ducks, geese, plover, etc., are seen

overhead, travelling to some distant spot, the
G

80 FORWARD PROPULSION

birds are then flying on a level plane (parallel
to the earth), the action of the wings is con-
tinuous ; should, however, one or more of the
birds show an inclination to “coast ’’ it is a
sure sign that the “‘ flight ” is about to descend,
otherwise the wings never cease beating the
air. Therefore it is obvious that forward
motion results directly from the wing action
independently of “‘ gliding”’ or “undulating ”’ ;
in which case, the wings, for the time being,
are out of action and serve merely as supports.

Now we have to consider how this beating
of the wings engenders propulsion ? On again
examining the wing of a bird, we observe that
the “‘ plumage ” gradually tapers away from
the ‘‘ arm” to a thin marginal edge defined
by the extremities, in juxtaposition, of single
feathers, spring-like and resilient. We have
already seen that when the wing is lifted
(up-stroke) it meets with practically no resist-
ance, therefore it is the down-stroke which
counts.

Now, by way of experiment, we shall
imagine this wing actuated from the shoulder
in the natural way, straight up-and-down,
but from a stationary body. The effect upon
the air, which can be tested, is that a draught
is set up which flows away from behind the
wing at each successive down-beat ; in short,

FLYING ON A LEVEL PLANE 8I

the wing displaces the air in the same way asif
it were a fan—a fan, however, so constructed
as to work with a single or one-sided action.
When the wing or pair of wings are thus set
in motion at high velocity, it is easy to under-
stand what the result must be when these
wings are attached to a free body, light and so
shaped as to present the least possible resist-
ance to the air.

Flying on a level plane, unaided by the
wind, a duck travels at the rate of, say, 50
miles per hour ; this is the limit of the bird’s
flying powers which can only be accelerated
by the assistance of a favourable wind. Con-
versely, the flight is retarded by an adverse
wind. Speed is again accelerated when the
bird, still using its wings, leaves the mean
level and flies earthward; in this event
acceleration is due to gravitation. But the
test of the wing-driving power is what a bird
can do on a level plane without assistance from
the wind. Flying at an angle above the mean
level reduces speed inversely as the angle of
inclination becomes steeper. It must, how-
ever, be understood, that though the wings are
now /1fting as well as propelling the bird, their
position and scope of action in relation to the
body is still, as always, the same. Like the
paddle-wheels of a steamer which act in concert

82 UNDULATING FLIGHT

and keep in line with the sides of the ship,
however much the latter is tossed and rolled
about, so it is with the wings of the bird ;
these do not twist in their sockets, but keep the
same alignment whatever the emergency. It
is not the wings, but the body of the bird
which changes position, inclining upwards or
downwards, as the case may be. To acquire
lifting power the body of the bird must be
tilted in an upward direction. When flying
on a mean level lifting force is neutralized and
the wings act as fans.

Undulating, apart from “ gliding,” is a style
of flight common to many of the smaller
birds. Alternately using and closing the wings,
the bird sweeps along in wave-like undulations.
As the wings are folded the bird falls slantingly
and is thus carried on in the same direction
until the wings are brought into action, when
again it slopes up to the former level, or any
level required. This is a speciality of flight
exactly adapted to these (perching) birds’
requirements ; for it will be noticed that a
bird with undulating flight comes to its perch
with an upward sweep and alights the moment
the energy is spent. Provided the perch is
stable the bird comes to rest without a flutter
—without overbalancing by so much as a
hair’s breadth. Such wondrous precision and

NATURAL EQUILIBRISTS 83

poise is only possible to these natural equili-
brists who have not to think about their
actions, but who are inspired by infallible
subconsciousness. Once a bird began to
consider distances and to calculate the effects
of gravitation, etc., like a human being, it
would have to learn by practice how to do
these things ; moreover, some would prove less
proficient than others, whereas we observe in
nature that birds on gaining their full powers
are, one and all, faultlessly perfect in their
manifestations, whatsoever. The slightest
failing means prompt extinction of the indi-
vidual.

Woodpeckers are, perhaps, the best ex-
ponents of undulating flight. The green-
woodpecker (Picus viridis) is the largest
British bird to fly in this fashion, and can
always be identified by its flight independent-
ly of its brilliant plumage. One has only to
watch a bird of this species flying from tree to
tree, to see how admirably the flight serves to
bring it perpendicularly up against the bole
of the tree. In no other way could the bird
possibly arrive in such a position with the
same grace and precision. To fly directly up
against the tree would be a clumsy proceeding
and detrimental to head and wings ; but as it
is the wings are folded out of the way before

84 “ COASTING ”
the bird reaches the tree, the impetus carrying
it up to the spot. On gaining the tree the
woodpecker remains for a moment immovable
and rigid, when it has the appearance of a
natural excrescence projecting from the tree.
I have used the word “ coasting ’’ as applied
to a certain description of flight. By “ coast-
ing ” I mean straightforward flight on motion-
less wings after momentum has been acquired.
For example, partridges fly and “coast”
alternately ; a very graceful flight shared only
by birds of the same order. Partridges, with-
out moving their wings, sometimes “‘ coast ”
for long distances ; flying in this fashion they
will rise at and clear a hedge, to sink again on
the opposite side. To effect this undulatory
movement the bird has only to incline one
degree above the mean level on approaching
the hedge, and after clearing it, reverse the
order. Proceeding in this way the covey skims
over the field and alights on the further side ;
but the mode of pitching is very different to
that of perching birds. In the case of part-
ridges, birds of some weight, the momentum
up to the last moment is considerable, and
must be summarily checked to allow of an
easy descent. There is no discussion amongst
these partridges as to where they shall settle ;
for as already suggested, the birds are linked

PARTRIDGES ALIGHTING ON GROUND 85

by telepathy : for the time being their mind-
units have merged i in one mind. The covey,
therefore, rises simultaneously, flies in a body
and settles as one bird. (It is needless to go
into exceptions, for which there are always
incidental causes.) Each succeeding act is
performed as it might be by a single bird.
Naturally this is a mental attitude the inde-
pendent self-conscious reasoning mind has
difficulty in grasping, but it must be grasped
before we can see nature as she really is. Thus
we observe the partridges in the distance
simultaneously “‘ throw up,” almost vertically,
flutter with their wings and drop lightly on
the ground. Whilst fluttering in this upright
position the wings act as a powerful brake
against the air. An observer following the line
of flight in open country, after losing sight
of the birds, will again “‘ spot ’’ them as they
pitch ; because, for the space of a moment,
all the birds present a full view of the upper
surface of their persons—back, wings and tail.

CHAPTER XII

INSECT FLIGHT

WHATEVER may be said of birds, it is certain
that insects cannot look to their progenitors for
instruction, seeing that the latter, for the most
part, have long since crumbled into dust ere
their offspring take wing. And yet insects
exhibit wonderful powers of flight, equalling
if not surpassing the flight of birds. Some
of these insects on emerging, not only fly
straight away, but within the space of a few
hours carry out their chief mission in life,
which is to deposit ova ; not at random, but in
suitable places, so that when the time comes
round again an identical batch of insects
appears in the same spot, and so on from year
to year. Subconscious intelligence, exact and
punctual, leaves nothing to chance.

Insect flight appears to be on the same
principle as bird flight. The wings are moved
in the same way, only, in most cases, much
more rapidly; but the construction of the

wings is very different. The “arm ”’ in this
86

FORMATION OF INSECT’S WING 87

case is not really an arm, but a process of
chitinous nervures which forms a stiff margin
(the costa); this gives great rigidity to the
wing. These nervures spread out in a net-
work of veins which taper gradually to the
hinder margin, and being curved act under
pressure in the same way as the quills of
feathers, and are equally resilient. Thus,
when the wing is waved or vibrated, the result
is practically the same as in the former case :
viz., that the air is “fanned ’’ away in the
rear of the wing, which engenders propulsion
or lifting power according to the angle.

The costal margin of an insect’s wing is
rigid throughout, except in the order Coleop-
tera and a few others where a joint shows on
the costa; this has nothing to do with flight,
but is merely an adaptation which permits of
the wing being folded so that it may pass under
cover of the elytron when not in use, the cover
being too short to contain the wing in ex-
tension. For the greater part, insects are
furnished with a dual flying apparatus, a fact
which seems to suggest that their ancestors
belonged to a period long anterior to birds.
The system would appear unnecessarily com-
plicated, for though these double-winged
insects exhibit high powers of flight, as in-
stance the humming-bird moth (Macroglossa

88 HIGHLY SPECIALIZED FORM OF FLIGHT

stellatarum), yet they are rivalled by insects
possessing only a single pair of wings. For
instance, there is a dipterous fly (Bombylius)
which, in its mode of feeding, poise and flight,
exactly resembles stellatarum in miniature,
and produces the same humming sound, but
in a higher key.

I am inclined to think that this flight of
Bombylius (three British examples), which is
identical with that of the humming-birds,
some of the hawk-moths and the hover-flies,
is a form of flight distinct and more highly
specialized than is observed in any other
classes, albeit there are some inferior imita-
tions. The speciality of this flight lies in the
fact, I believe, that the rate of wing vibration
is constant, whether the insect, or bird, is
stationary, as when poising over a flower, or
travelling at excessive speed.

A hover-fly, for instance, suspended in mid-
air, remains absolutely stationary though its
wings are vibrating with such velocity as to
render them practically invisible. Suddenly
the fly darts off so rapidly that the eye can
scarce follow, when again it returns to the
same spot. Like the flight of thought, a
moment here and then away, regardless of
time and space. But though the spirit that
prompts these ethereal excursions is itself

WING OF BIRD.

BOMBYLIUS (DIPTEROUS FLY).
[Facing page 88.

THE HOVER-FLY 89
ethereal, the wings and body of the creature
are material, and therefore should be open to
investigation.

Thus, we will suppose that the wings of the
hover-fly, like all other wings, move with a
straight up-and-down action; but, in this
case, they move at the rate of, say, 400
vibrations per second (a low computation).
Enormous energy is thus developed; but the
fly has such perfect control over it that, whilst
careering at infinite speed, it can check itself
instantly and remain stationary in mid-air
with the engines, so to speak, still running at
high pressure.

When so stationed in mid-air, the insect’s
body is on the mean level, therefore there is
no lifting force. But in the ordinary course
the insect in this position should be driven or
“fanned ” along in a forward direction; but
it is not, it remains stationary; because, I
believe, the motive power has been neutralized
by a slight alteration from the normal in the
position of the wings. That isto say, the wing-
points are directed slightly forwards, which
causes the air to flow off laterally instead of in
the rear of the body; forward tendency is
thus counteracted, and consequently the
insect hovers in a neutral position, moving
neither backwards nor forwards. But the

go FLYING BACKWARDS

moment the wings are inclined, ever so
slightly, in a backward direction, motive power
is engendered and, without wing acceleration,
the fly darts off into space.

One can understand that a very slight
alteration in the set of the wings is sufficient
to effect these movements. The hover-fly is
capable, not only of poising, but can turn
without moving from the spot, or advance
slowly and cautiously; and again, what is
more extraordinary, the fly is capable of
moving backwards. This indeed is a feat
possible only to creatures possessing ‘‘ high
pressure’ flight, which includes genuine
humming-birds.

I am unable to speak from personal observa-
tion, but I imagine that a humming-bird is
also capable of coming out backwards from
a cramped position, say, a tubular flower-
head (?). The act of retrogression is never
continued beyond the actual necessities of
the case, but may be distinctly observed in
respect to bombylius ; the hawk-moths (stel-
latarum, fusiformis and bombyliformis) ; and
almost certainly in the cases of the larger
hawk-moths (celerio, elpenor, convolvuli, etc.);
but as these fly at dusk it is difficult to
take reliable observations. According to my
theory, backward movement would obtain

IN TUNE WITH ITS SURROUNDINGS 1

when the wings are set a degree in advance
of neutral.

The marvellous precision and fitness of these
actions can only be attributed to Omniscience
manifesting in the creature, which, indeed, is
no meaningless expression ; for however faulty
and inadequate my description, the fact re-
mains, the hover-fly is in perfect tune with
its surroundings which shows it to be no mere
waif struggling with the elements, but as much
a part of nature as the sun in the sky.

CHAPTER XIII

PRODUCTION OF SOUNDS BY CREATURES IN
THE ANIMAL WORLD

In pursuit of his study the naturalist relies
equally on his sense of hearing as on that of
sight, indeed more so, for the innumerable
sounds of nature are borne in upon his ear
from near and afar, and, whereas a man sees
only in front of him, he is capable of hearing
in all directions. Thus it is often a sound
which first attracts his attention; either the
direct utterance of some creature or sound
produced by its movements.

Training and cultivation of the auditory
sense is of the utmost importance ; therefore,
the true naturalist makes it his first endeavour
to familiarize himself to all kinds of sound until
the practice becomes an acute subconscious
faculty ; he is then in a position to know a
great deal of what is taking place around him,
and of the kind of life that exists in his vicinity.

Few creatures in the Animal World are
absolutely mute, though it may be that we

92

SOUNDS WHICH CONVEY MEANINGS 93

are not able to hear all of them. Among air-
breathing vertebrates I do not imagine there
exists any one that cannot, on occasion, pro-
duce some audible sound; still, there may be
cases which have not come under notice. For
instance, the writer has no record in respect
to the jack-snipe (Scolopax gallinula). Though
silent throughout the winter months, it is very
unlikely that this bird is incapable of utterance.

Though no actual language obtains in the
Animal World, there are expressions which
almost amount to it, sounds that convey
different meanings and which are acted upon
accordingly, albeit unconsciously. Thus, we
clearly distinguish call-notes, notes of alarm,
notes of pleasure, notes of distress, and again,
notes of joy. These latter, in the case of birds,
take the form of song, perhaps the most
wonderful exoteric expression of spiritual
beatitude in all nature. Furthermore, the
songs of birds are spontaneous and diverse,
according to species; a phrase neither bor-
rowed nor acquired, but proceeding sponta-
neously and subconsciously from the Infinite,
which is Love, Beauty and Truth.

The songs of birds—at any rate, some of
them—are distinctly melodious, and appeal
intensely to nature-lovers. This may arise
from the purity of such music, which links us

94 “SPLENDID OCCASION ”

(humanity) directly with the Divine. For one
ecstatic moment we seem carried beyond
the mundane plane of self-consciousness and
launched in the realm of Reality. A like sen-
sation is experienced when contemplating the
marvellous beauty and perfection of flowers,
which is the same though silent expression of
spiritual ecstasy. This ‘‘ splendid occasion,”
beyond words to express, will, nevertheless,
be recognized by many who can recall similar.
experiences, and who know that it does not
occur on every occasion when looking at a
flower or on hearing a bird sing. No, it is only
when the conditions are right, the “‘ intangible
connections’ complete, that it occurs, and
then instantaneously ; for this glance “‘ behind
the veil”’ is within (subconscious), and not
subject to time and space.

A very curious fact in nature, as it seems to
me, is that her joy-notes are, by no means, all
of them vocal; there is a great deal of what
might be called ‘“‘ instrumental ’’ music, especi-
ally among insects. Insects have nothing
corresponding to the human ear, yet it is
certain they appreciate sound; moreover,
sound vibrations which, as regards pitch, far
exceed our sense perception. The antennz no
doubt are the organs for intercepting sound,
also scent and other frequencies of which we

INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 95

have no knowledge. The “humming” of
wings, ‘ticking’ and “‘ rasping’”’ (Cicadz)
are all of the instrumental order; so also is
that peculiar “ squeaking ’’ produced by the
hawk-moth (Acherontia atropos): all these
expressions are significant and have their uses
in nature.

Then, again, there are many birds, including
foreign species, who “ play ”’ instrumentally.
Woodpeckers of various kinds make use of a
sounding board, a specially selected portion
of a hollow tree which, on being struck by the
bird with its bill, gives out sound like the
“roll”? on a drum that can be heard half a
mile away on a still day, but though loud-
sounding is extremely difficult to locate. A
person unacquainted with this sound would
never imagine it to proceed from a bird, and
in the case of the lesser-barred woodpecker, a
very small bird at that. How the “ beats,”
which cannot be less, and may be anything
over 16 per second, can be tapped out with
such amazing celerity, is a mystery.

The “‘ bleating’”’ of snipe (Scolopax galli-
nago) is another most remarkable example of
serenading, and as to how it is produced is still
undetermined.

The writer, who has availed himself when-
ever the opportunity offered for taking obser-
H

96 THE “ BLEATING” SNIPE

vations on this point, is convinced in his own
mind that the ‘‘ drumming ”’ emanates from
the wings of the bird, and not from the tail, as
is often maintained. But as the snipe is
usually high up in the air when this perform-
ance occurs, it would be rash to make any
definite assertion. However, when closely
following the bird in its course with field-
glasses, it will be noticed that, as the sound is
heard, the snipe is seen to dip earthwards,
almost in a falling position, with wings
spread, though somewhat retracted; at the
same time the wings quiver, not from muscular
action, for, at the moment, they are stationary
and rigid, but from the force of air-pressure
which is driven through the primary wing-
feathers, the result being that the “‘ primaries,”
stiff and resilient as steel, flutter and so cause
the “‘ bleating ’’ sound we hear.

Now, on the other hand, the tail feathers of
a snipe are extremely weak, and therefore
would hardly respond to such treatment. The
point, however, will probably remain a matter
of individual opinion, as it is unlikely we shall
ever get nearer the “ bleating ’’ bird than has
already been achieved. Nor is it of real import-
ance; sufficient that we can hear the sound and
know it to be produced instrumentally and not
vocally.

CORNCRAKE AND NIGHTJAR 97

Though the cause of these subconscious
manifestations is practically the same in all
cases, the ‘‘ drumming ”’ of the snipe is exe-
cuted in a fashion entirely different to the
wing-drumming of some other species ; these,
however, I shall have occasion to mention
later on, when referring to gallinaceous fowl.

Whilst on the subject, and as a personal
note, I would appeal to naturalists to give close
attention to two British species with a view
to discover whether their love demonstrations
are vocal or otherwise—viz., the Corncrake
(Rallus pratensis), and the Nightjar (Capni-
mulgus). It may not have occurred to anyone
that there can be a question on the matter,
but, personally, I am not satisfied that these
expressions are vocalized, and though I have
pushed investigations as far as possible, have
had no satisfactory results. My nearest
approach to success was in the case of the
corncrake who, on the occasion, was ‘‘rasping ”’
on the top of a bank. By crawling for a long
distance up a wet ditch I succeeded in getting
within a few feet of the bird, when it seemed to
my fancy that however the sound was pro-
duced, it was not vocalized. On raising my
head to a level with the top of the bank the
‘‘rasping ’’ immediately ceased, and so, un-
fortunately, the attempt failed.

98 GROTESQUE ANTICS

In the case of the nightjar the difficulties
are still greater, for the would-be observer is
more or less hampered by obscurity.

In conjunction with vocal and instrumental
sounds, some creatures perform very wonder-
ful, not to say grotesque, antics, and “‘ dress
up ” to enhance the effect. Contrary to the
human fashion, it is invariably the males who
wear the “fine feathers’’ and “strut ’’ and
even “dance ’”’ in order to show themselves
off to their less resplendent partners who, in
the meantime, appear supremely indifferent
and unconscious, which, from their unreason-
ing point of view, they undoubtedly are.

All such displays are rapturous, subconscious
manifestations of nature at the zenith of her
perfection—the love season when the Force-
of-Life is exerted to the full and results in
reproduction or the furtherance of the life-
principle in yet another generation.

CHAPTER XIV
NATURAL PROTECTIONS

In order to make clear my impressions in
regard to the subconscious mind in the
Animal World, I shall now give some details
of natural history well known to sportsmen
and naturalists, but which I consider eviden-
tial in support of my theory.

Wild life may be divided into two classes,
viz., Exposers, creatures who frequent the
open (land and water) ; and Concealers, those
who make use of covert of all kinds. Each
class has its particular schemes for pro-
tection. Thus, Exposers depend on keenness
of sight, locomotive powers, weapons of
defence and warning colours. Concealers, in
hiding themselves, mimic the surroundings.
Some creatures, however, adopt the schemes
of either class, according to season and cir-
cumstance. Amongst these are Wild Duck
(Mallard).

For the greater part of the year these birds

99

100 MALLARD

live mostly in the open, where both sexes are
conspicuous; they then assume a wary atti-
tude and are unapproachable. But as spring
comes round the mated couple change their
habits and locate themselves in the vicinity
of covert. The duck, who alone is concerned
with the nest, has already the plumage suited
to her surroundings ; therefore, whilst she
is occupied with domestic cares, the mallard
retires under cover of reeds and rushes,
and by the time the brood has attained the
“flapper ’’ stage has so altered his appear-
ance as to be scarcely distinguishable from
his mate.

Curlew, golden-plover and other shore birds
are very conspicuous when standing out on
the sands, but amongst the heather and moss,
where they breed, their plumage harmonizes
perfectly with the surroundings.

In these cases the birds, erstwhile Exposers,
adopt an attitude of concealment.

Ducks and other aquatic fowl frequenting
open water make no attempt at concealment,
but depend, in the first place, on their power
of sight, and as they usually keep together in
company, the advent of any suspicious object
is at once detected. When this happens there
is no panic, for the birds are subconsciously
aware of their security. Acting ina deliberate

SIMULTANEOUS COMPANY MOVEMENTS tor

manner, they keep their distance by swimming
or diving from the pursuer until unduly pressed,
when, simultaneously, they take to flight and
so outmanceuvre the enemy.

The same applies to land animals and birds
inhabiting bare tracts. At the approach of
danger these stand motionless and erect.
After maintaining this attitude for a moment
or two, the whole body moves off (or rises)
simultaneously. This spontaneous action is
very remarkable, and obviously the outcome
of a scheme for protection.

Company movements of birds and animals
may be compared to the practices of a well-
drilled squad of soldiers, whose units combin-
ing produce that uniformity of action essential
to operations, offensive, defensive or protec-
tive. In the case of a body of men, combined
action would be impossible without the com-
mand words of a leader; the actions that
follow the words of command are due to his
(the leader’s) individual mind. It is generally
supposed that animals and birds are actuated
in much the same way ; namely, the signals of
a leader. But once admit this and there is no
alternative but to believe that animals have
reasoning minds, if not equal to, at least on
the same plane as our own. The writer’s
belief, already expressed, is that animals

102 NO LEADERS

(speaking generally) have no reasoning mind.*
If this is so, there can be no leaders in the true
sense of the word. The only approach to such
a condition in wild nature is the case of young:
who follow their parents, and a train of females
headed by an old male. But this is merely a
natural tendency of the weak to follow the
stronger, and amounts to nothing beyond the
simple act of following.

I shall now bring evidence in support of this
belief, viz., that in wild life there are no
leaders in the true sense of the meaning. (The
functions of a leader can only be understood
in relation to an intelligent reasoning mind.)
Indeed it would be difficult to imagine that
the countless hordes of locusts and myriads
of lepidoptera, seen on migration, are influ-
enced by leaders. However, to go more
particularly into the matter we shall consider
the doings of the duck tribe, plovers and
others. ~

When on long flight these birds range them-
selves up ina > shape figure, with the result
that a single bird heads the party at the apex.

1 “Some of the higher animals’’ (dogs, apes, horses, etc.), ‘‘who
for a long period of time have been closely associated with man,
have through his mental emanations acquired some faint reason-
ing powers.” In such cases it is possible that the discarnate
spirit of the animal does not return to the group-soul but remains
individualized.

THE MIND-BLENDING ASPECT 103

Therefore, in these cases, if there is a genuine
leader amongst them, this undoubtedly is the
one.

Now in the event of this bird being suddenly
cut off (shot), what happens? Simply that
after the disturbance is over, the “ flight ’’
resumes its former configuration with another
bird at the head and so continues in the
original direction. If we believe that the
former bird had all the qualifications of a
leader—was, in fact, superior to the rest in
intelligence and bird tactics—it must be ad-
mitted that the next best has been put up by
general consent and presumably prior arrange-
ment. The only conclusion it is possible to
arrive at from this argument is that the birds
have reasoning minds of a high order, which
brings us back to the old standpoint. But, on
the other hand, let us regard the matter from
the mind-blending aspect. In this case, the
mind-units composing the “flight” are all
equal; what mentality they have is subcon-
scious and telepathically connected. The
result is automatic action of the “ flight.”
The units act and move as one bird, because
they are actuated by one mind.

(According to my theory, mind-blending may
be explained in this way: Take a globe of

104 MIND-BLENDING, A SIMILE

quicksilver which shall represent All-Mind (1).
From it detach a globule which we will call
a group-soul (2). From this globule again
separate a small portion and break it up
into fifty minute spheroids which shall stand
for individual mind-units—of a flock of
birds—(3).

If two of these metallic globules (3), which
are of the same constituent substance and have
an affinity for one another, be approximated,
they are seen to coalesce immediately ; or all
of them, collectively, will merge in one globe
(2), and that again into the original sphere (1).
The fact of dividing the substance in no way
alters its nature.

And so in the case of the birds: When in-
carnated the subconscious mind is separated
into units. These units, set apart from por-
tions of the One Mind, have the strongest
affinity for one another, and when in proximity
are drawn together, and so become telepathi-
cally united ; at the dissolution of the body
they merge in the group-soul.

This, indeed, is the basis of my theory of
telepathy as a potential factor in the Animal
World, and when all the evidence contained
in these pages, bearing on it, has been con-
sidered, I think it will be admitted that my
proposition is not unreasonable.)

“ WEDGE ” FORMATION 105

Thus, when rising from the place of depar-
ture the birds, irrespective of sex or age, fall
automatically into the “‘ wedge ”’ shape which
is the natural scheme for minimizing air or
water pressure, a system manifest throughout
nature. It is plainly indicated in the head and
shoulders of a fish. When constructing a ship
man adopts the same principle as obviously
the only means for reducing pressure of the
elements—air and water.

The travelling birds and sailing-ship are,
indeed, somewhat alike in this respect, for
both have “‘ figureheads,”’ but in neither case
is the head responsible for the guidance and
governing of the body.

The goose has never been famous for its
intelligence, but, collectively, as a “ gaggle,”
geese have sense enough to fly in the ‘‘ wedge ”’
formation ; they invariably do so, and at the
same time keep up a continuous gabbling
(“honking ’’) (A. albifrons). This is not the
call of a leader, for they all do it, and the
sound is like a pack of hounds in full cry.
This habit, which I believe is purely auto-
matic and unconscious, serves to keep them
together—within the zone of telepathy. The
same may be said of the aforementioned
w pack.”

Geese and ducks are very conservative in

106 GOLDEN-PLOVER

their mode of flight, and for this reason can
be identified when still a long way off. But
for perfect conformity of action in the execu-
tion of aerial evolutions, plover bear the palm.
Golden-plover, when seen at a distance over
their feeding grounds, appear as a misty cloud
against the sky, sometimes darker, sometimes
lighter; the change of shade is effected in-
stantly. As the mass wheels and turns about,
the light underside of the wings is flashed up
and so contrasts with the darker plumage.
This effect, which would not be noticeable
unless the compact body turned as one bird,
may be traced after the “ stand ” is practically
out of sight. Now watch the plover at a closer
range and note how each bird keeps its place
whilst the massed body is twisting and turning
into all kinds of shapes. Now they are seen
to rise in the air to a great height; fly ona
level plane; plunge suddenly earthward ;
skim along over the surface of the ground,
rise again and finally go off in the V
formation.

Although these manceuvres are executed at
incredible speed, there are no collisions, no
bungling as must surely occur if each out of,
say, 200 birds was acting on his own and
endeavouring to fly even conformably with a
leader. It is an amazing sight, calculated to

SANDLINGS 107

leave an impression that, in nature, nothing
is impossible.

In the bird kingdom, as elsewhere, we note
that some species are better bred, so to speak,
than others; their habits are more refined.
These are clean feeders, whose costumes are
compact and well fitting; the very texture
thereof is of superior quality. These, indeed,
belong to bird aristocracy. Of this class are
plovers and their congeners, whose nervous
system, no doubt, is correspondingly taut and
responds readily to subconscious impulses.

Some of the smaller shore birds, such as
stints, dunlin, sandlings and ringed-plover,
are models of elegance, so spick-and-span is
their plumage. The flight of these birds is
comparable to that of the plovers last men-
tioned. When alighting on the shingle the
birds mingle with the stones, so that it is
difficult to distinguish them from the sur-
roundings. Thus, with heads all turned in the
same direction, they stand rigid; on the
slightest alarm they rise instantly and are off
again. But when all is quiet the birds are seen
to disperse, running hither and thither over
sand and stones in search of food and, in this
way, become separated to some extent. It
is then, I take it, that the bonds of telepathy
are relaxed, when each bird acts for himself,

108 THE FLIGHT OF ROOKS

When it is time to move on to fresh ground, or
an intruder is sighted, one or more of the birds
rise ; the rest immediately take wing, when the
lot converge and sweep off together as before.
But the movement is not in response to a
leader.

Though I believe telepathy is general
throughout the Animal World, mind-blending,
in regard to flight, does not include all gre-
garious birds, for it is not, in all cases, neces-
sary as a protection.

For instance, rooks, who go about in large
flocks, have no system of flight. Keeping one
another in sight they fly in a careless, slovenly
manner ; the most casual observer cannot fail
to notice the difference between the rhythmical
evolutions of plover and the clumsy flight of a
flock of rooks. Rooks are essentially ‘“‘ Ex-
posers,’ they make no attempt at conceal-
ment; on the contrary, with much clamour
and a conspicuous appearance, they freely
advertise themselves to the country round for
what they are worth, which, as prey, is
practically nothing ; for with tough coarse
flesh surmounted by a covering of strongly
adhering feathers, rooks are little sought by
man or predaceous birds. In fact, their
worthlessness is their safety. But a sub-
order (Corvide), viz., starlings, are remarkable

STARLINGS 109
for their orderly, mind-blending flight. No
matter how large the company—it is often
beyond calculation—the flight is executed in
perfect order ; but, again, there is nothing to
indicate“the presence of a leader.

CHAPTER XV
CONCEALERS

Now we shall take a glance at “‘ Concealers,”’
such as game birds, whose habits are best
generally known. Grouse, partridges, quail,
etc., dwell together in family parties and, as
might be expected, are in close telepathic
sympathy. The parents in these cases natur-
ally act as guides to the young brood (say,
partridges) until the former’s career is cut
short by the sportsman. The old birds are
generally the first to fall; incidentally, be-
cause being larger they attract the eye of the
gunner, and, purposely, they are often shot
in order to keep the covey from becoming
wild. Thus, by the end of September, the
brood is often without parents to look after
them. When this is the case the young
birds, having no reasoning mind, cannot and
do not appoint a leader, but act together
automatically.

In imagination, let us watch the sportsman
as he enters a field of clover in pursuit of such

Ilo

A COVEY OF PARTRIDGES III

a covey. On becoming aware of the enemy
the birds’ first impulse is to conceal them-
selves. Under the circumstances (high clover)
this ruse is simple enough, and would prob-
ably succeed were it not for the man’s clever
assistants, viz., his dogs, who indicate the posi-
tion of the covey. Whereupon, an advance
is made in their direction. Concealment now
no longer availing, the alternative is flight.
The birds rise simultaneously. One or more
fall, but the rest carry on together, and are
presently marked down and followed up by
the sportsman, when, again, the same perform-
ance is repeated; though hidden from one
another, they spring simultaneously into the
air. It does sometimes occur that one or,
perhaps, two birds remain to rise a few seconds
after the others have fled and get safely away,
for it is at this moment the sportsman is
engaged in reloading his gun. However, if
the observer has carefully noted the relative
positions of the birds, he will find that the
laggards were squatting a certain distance
away from the main body ; they were, in fact,
outside the zone of telepathy.

But to follow the remnant of the covey:
By this time—after the second rise—the birds
are fairly scared and scatter to some extent,

so that when the sportsman comes up with
I

I12 GAME-BIRDS ‘“ PACKING”

them again they are seen to rise separately, in
ones and twos, for now the birds are no longer
linked by telepathy ; each, therefore, must
shift for himself, a shift which is not to the
advantage of the partridges, for it enables the
sportsman to take toll, possibly, of the whole
covey.

No group, perhaps, is more closely associ-
ated than a covey of partridges. If not inter-
fered with the parents and their brood live
together till the pairing season comes round.
They feed in company, rest during the day
together, and at night ‘jug ”’ in the grass or
in some declivity on a bare field.

Partridges and grouse are so constantly
harried and driven about that coveys get
mixed up, when they are said to “pack.”
Through man’s interference this habit has
probably been acquired; but, in any case,
once coveys have joined forces, the birds are
telepathically united.

The common belief is that a pack of grouse
(or partridges) is under the leadership of a
single bird—an old cock, who keeps watch
and ‘‘ crows ” his orders ; but this, I think, is
going beyond the facts. Amongst a pack
there will be several old cocks, any one of
which, on the approach of danger, will give
the alarm; though not the signal of any

COLORATION AND MIMICRY 113

particular leader, it is a warning to the rest
to run together preparatory to taking flight.

Game-birds are naturally well protected,
for besides the telepathic faculty which holds
them together, the attitude of concealment is
enormously helped out by colour resemblance,
a natural scheme known as “ protective color-
ation and mimicry of surroundings.”

In the insect world this scheme is elaborated
and perfected to an incredible degree ; not
only are spots, blotches and shades of colour
truthfully matched, but the creatures mimic
the actual forms and shapes of the surrounding
inanimate objects.

“Concealers ’’ are subconsciously aware
that, to keep up the deception, a rigid posture
must be maintained. I nthe case of partridges,
if the observer’s eye is keen enough to detect
them on the ground, he will see that the birds
lie inert, seemingly as lifeless as the stones and
clods which surround them, nevertheless they
are in telepathic touch with one another, so
that the moment flight becomes necessary
they spring together as one bird.

The same mind-blending scheme is manifest
in some gregarious animals. For example, a
flock of sheep, when alarmed, immediately
herd together; they do not (in my opinion)
rally round a leader, but mass together in order

II4 SHEEP

to unite mentally, afterwards manoeuvring
as urged by subconscious mind.

Sheep inhabit bare and open tracts, and are
therefore ‘‘ Exposers.’’ Their powers of loco-
motion are below the average of animals
found in exposed places; also the sheep’s
fleece is an encumbrance which tends to reduce
speed. However, I believe this woolly covering
which envelops the body is a natural protec-
tion against the attacks of beasts of prey
rather than for the actual warmth it may
afford the animal, and which takes the place
of spines and other kinds of defensive armour
as observed in some species: thus, when the
pursuer, in the shape of a wolf or other,
overhauls the quarry, his teeth meet, not in
the flesh of the animal, but in the wool, which
comes away entangled in his mouth and for
the moment blinds him, thus affording the
pursued a chance of escape. But the sheep’s
chief protection lies in this habit of massing
together when danger threatens. There is
“safety in numbers.”

Now observe the sheep after they have
crowded up: their heads are all turned in
the direction of the supposed danger. Fora
moment they stand motionless; then, with
one impulse, the whole troop stampedes.
Suddenly, they are seen to slew round and

HORSES AND PANIC IN HUMAN CROWD 115

halt, partially facing the direction whence
they came. Again they start off at a tangent ;
but this time a small ditch or bank obstructs
their passage, whereat the foremost animals
jump; at the same time the rest are seen to
“buck ”’ off the ground, though the obstacle
has not been reached or even seen by those in
the rear. ‘‘ The fact has been telepathed? ”
Yes, but not by a leader, for were the sheep
to face about and charge in an opposite
direction, as often happens, so that the rear-
most are now to the front, the same perform-
ance is repeated. Once massed, the units
composing the troop are no longer independ-
ent members, but the whole is governed by
one mind and one eye: not the eye of a
leader, but the eyes which first perceive the
danger or obstacle of which notice must be
taken.

Though this faculty is a scheme for protec-
tion, it is sometimes, in the case of sheep, the
cause of their complete destruction. For if
during a stampede one or more chance to
overstep the brink of a quarry-pit, the rest
inevitably follow.

The cause of stampede of horses and panic
in a human crowd is, I believe, due to the
blending and prompt action of the subcon-
scious mind. Man, like the animals, is affected

116 “PSYCHOLOGY OF CROWDS”

because his subconscious mind responds to
the emergency before his reasoning faculty has
time to assert itself, before he has time to
think. When the latter is reinstated the panic-
condition subsides; but animals, having no
reasoning mind to correct the initial impulse,
run amok until exhausted.

If, amongst the crowd of human beings,
there is one who has not been seized by the
general panic, it is that he has himself well
under control. As the saying goes, the man
“kept his head,’’ which means that his will-
power was strong enough to restrain his ego
from merging or blending with the panic-
stricken.

The “ psychology of crowds ”’ is a different
thing from the aggregate psychology of all the
individuals of which they are composed.

‘OIL add sursvz}

“(snoIsnut supiuy)
HSOAYHL AO LSAN

CHAPTER XVI

QUICK RESPONSE OF SUBCONSCIOUS MIND

A REMARKABLE fact in regard to the sub-
conscious mind is the rapidity with which it
responds to the exigencies of the moment.
This is particularly noticeable in the Animal
World. The same thing is observed in human-
ity. For instance, when an unexpected loud
noise occurs a person blinks his eyes, the eyes
shut down instantly, seemingly of their own
accord; the act is over before the individual
has time to think of this precaution. Sub-
conscious mind, however, realizes the neces-
sity and acts with the utmost promptitude.
We call the action “‘automatic”’ simply
because it has not been reasoned out and
ordered by the physical mind. But what slow
working mental process is this compared with
a mind capable of instantly responding when
called upon and, moreover, doing the right
thing to meet the occasion. There is an
essential difference in these mental powers:
the difference between the reality and the echo.

117

t18 CHARACTERISTIC MOVEMENTS

Now to consider subconscious mentation in
relation to purely natural wild life. A fact
which strikes the close observer is that the
body movements of the creatures are charac-
teristically peculiar to themselves ; compared
with the human species their actions might be
described as ‘‘ automatic.’’ The reason for
this is that the animals are not self-conscious
—they have no reasoning faculty ; instead,
their actions result from a series of subcon-
scious impulses set in motion by the physical
senses (sight, hearing and ‘“‘scenting’’ per-
ceptions) ;_ the consequence is, quick and de-
cisive motions, in some cases almost amount-
ing to ‘“‘ jerkiness,” only that the expression
suggests lack of grace which, in fact, is not
wanting.

There are, of course, slow-moving creatures
who, from our point of view, appear ungrace-
ful and even clumsy; but this seeming im-
perfection is only apparent, for the creatures
themselves are well adapted to, and in com-
plete correspondence with, their own proper
surroundings, otherwise they would not be
there.

The particularity of action to which I refer
is perhaps more apparent in birds than others,
though all act, more or less, in the same way.
For instance, let us watch the behaviour of a

THE THRUSH 11g

thrush (a bird of high-class type) feeding on
a lawn. Though its movements are in every
way graceful, it advances by “‘ fits and starts.”
Moving swiftly over the grass surface, it stops
suddenly but without loss of equilibrium.
With head turned slightly on one side, and
with a pair of unblinking eyes, the bird presents
a charming appearance of unconscious grace.
In this posture it remains for a moment abso-
lutely motionless ; but though so still, the
creature is instinct with life and intent on
business. Again, we see it glide (so quick in
the hopping action) over the lawn for a few
feet in another direction, halt abruptly as
before, and pause in the same rigid attitude.
Then, quicker than thought, it has hold of a
worm ; a few dexterous tugs and the worm is
drawn from its hole and lies wriggling on the
grass, whilst the thrush eyes it with motionless
complacency, knowing, subconsciously, that
once out of the ground it cannot escape. In
another moment the worm has been gulped
down, or, in the case of a nursery, doubled up
and retained between the mandibles in con-
venient form. After a supply has thus been
collected the thrush, without a moment’s
warning, rapidly wings its way over the lawn
and is soon lost to sight amongst the bushes.

Such is the behaviour of every thrush on

1z0 NO DISEASE IN PURE NATURE

every lawn in the kingdom. All these birds
are modelled exactly on the same pattern, and
each is equally fit and in sympathy with its
surroundings.

In pure nature, freaks and deformities do
not survive, nor do I believe there is any real
disease. Epidemics and disease are directly
or indirectly the result of man’s interference
(overcrowding, usually), which upsets the
balance, when nature is compelled to step in
with drastic measures in order to readjust it.
Hereditary disease and imperfections are not
possible in pure nature ; if a creature is in
any way defective (unfit) it perishes, because
no longer in tune with its surroundings,
therefore the evil is not perpetuated.

These alternate periods of activity and im-
mobility observed in wild creatures result, I
believe, from the very fact that they have no
thinking faculty ; indeed, they are proof of it.
During the passive state the creature is, of
course, thinking of nothing, it is not even
aware of its own existence ; at the same time,
what sense organs it possesses are, as it were,
set at “high tension,” ready for immediate
reception of external impressions, which, as
they occur, are promptly acted upon, when the
creature becomes as energetic as before it was
immobile.

BIRDS’ FACULTY OF SIGHT 121

Birds are entirely dependent on their senses
of sight and hearing; these faculties, therefore,
are highly developed and, in many cases,
specialized, as may be seen in the owl-tribe.
The eyes of birds who feed and fly at night
(Scolopacide, plovers, nightjars, etc.) are
specially adapted, as also birds who obtain
their food under water (cormorants, divers,
grebes and others). On inspection the eyes of
these water-birds are seen to be curiously
modified to suit the density of the element in
which they function.

The faculty of sight is all-important to birds,
and it is this class (Aves) alone which is exempt
from blindness in any degree. Truly, it may
be said, the eyes of the bird are the windows
of its soul. This, I believe, is practically the
case, namely, that the bird’s vision includes
an all-round view, a fact that renders any
attempt to “put salt on its tail” a futile
undertaking. But, I question whether from
the bird’s point of view there is an angle of
parallax—which is to say, that a bird is
incapable of visualizing an object with both
eyes at the same time. Obviously, this would
be unnecessary to a creature that only requires
to see, not to concentrate.

That birds such as woodcock, snipe et hoc
genus, can see all round without turing the

122 NATURAL EQUILIBRIUM

head, is morally certain. The eye-sockets in
these species, as is well known, are placed high
up and far back in the skull; the eye itself, too,
is very large and prominent. This modifica-
tion is admirably adapted to the bird’s mode
of life. It serves two purposes: not only can
the bird see in all directions, but the eyes so
placed are preserved from the mud and water
when it is in the act of “ prodding” the
ground.

The contemplation of nature’s adaptations,
so perfectly adjusted, gives one to pause... .

I have already made allusion to “ natural
equilibrists.”” It is a point deserving of special
attention. The fact that creatures always
maintain perfect poise and equilibrium shows
them to be moving parts of a faultlessly work-
ing system. When, for certain reasons (over-
development in some particular), details of
this great machine (nature) begin to lose their
proper balance and become unworkable, they
gradually drop off and disappear: such has
occurred in the past. But those perfectly
balanced remain, and function evenly and
truly in accordance with the ‘‘ mainspring.”’
This is pure nature. But an offshoot, as it
were, has sprung from nature which, in the
course of time, has evolved self-consciousness

HEAD OF PHEASANT (p. 209).

HEAD OF WOODCOCK.

[Facing page 122.

THE ROBIN: AN ILLUSTRATION 123

and, to a great extent, self-dependence ; but
child-like and self-willed, it has not the know-
ledge of the parent, and therefore is constantly
falling and failing, for want of equilibrium,
humanum est errare. This is not pure nature,
but Awman nature.

Now to consider this matter of equilibrium
from a practical point of view. I can think of
no better illustration than that afforded by the
commonest bird of our country lawns—the
robin. Here we have a confiding little bird
whose proceedings can be watched at a close
range in the open. Let us suppose the lawn
set with croquet hoops and posts, though a
single hoop and one post is sufficient, in fact,
better for our purpose. To ensure steady sight
the observer will take up his position in a chair
placed sideways, in a line with the hoop and
at a convenient distance. He will then keep
an eye on the robin, who, in the meantime, is
busy hunting for worms in the grass, and who,
from time to time, is seen to fly to the hoop,
or settle on the post, in order to take observa-
tions on his own account. Now this is a very
ordinary sight which anyone in the least
interested in birds has witnessed a thousand
times, but it may not be everyone who has
thought to concentrate his attention at the
moment the bird alights on the hoop. If he

I24 THE ROBIN

will do so, and at the same time keep his eye
fixed on some mark in the background, he will
note that the robin comes up, time after time,
to exactly the same spot without overbalanc-
ing or exerting the slightest effort to steady
itself, notwithstanding that it has come at
the hoop with considerable momentum. The
appearance is as though the “shade ’”’ of the
bird had been cast on the hoop. In this
position the robin remains motionless until,
due to extraordinary power of sight, it has
detected the head of a worm in the grass, when
it flies off, settles on the ground, and approaches
the worm in the same fashion as the thrush,
before mentioned.

When alighting on the post the bird has not
the same grip, but the poise is equally true.
It will also be noted that the young birds,
before they have acquired the red _ breast-
feathers, are quite as efficient.

There are some birds, such as blackbirds,
woodpigeons, magpies, etc., when coming to
the perch, throw up their tails as if for the
purpose of steadying themselves after having
slightly overshot the mark. This action is
deceptive, for it has nothing to do with equili-
brium, but is an impulsive “ display,” and
occurs slowly and deliberately after the bird
has come to rest. This “show-off” is often

NATURAL BALANCE 125
repeated several times before flight is resumed,
and is observed more commonly during the
breeding season.

The consideration of balance, as observed
in the Animal World, is an important item in
our study; for though this instance of the
robin may seem trivial, the case, neverthe-
less, is typical of nature—z.e., “ Nature in
her purity ’’—perfect adjustment, perfect
equilibrium.

CHAPTER XVII
ANIMAL INSTINCT DISCREDITED

In these days it is the fashion to discredit
animal instinct. With regard to ‘‘ homing ”’
pigeons, another correspondent to the Daily
Mail, writes :

“ They travel by sight and memory, and
not by instinct. The fastest bird in the race
covered 500 miles at the rate of 44 miles an
hour. Whilst over land birds learn to mark
the valleys and hills. Learning to fly over
the Channel is a more difficult matter; there
is nothing to guide the birds, and hundreds
are lost through not having pluck to make
the crossing.”’

If this be so, and birds have no instinctive
sense of direction, how is it that any single
one succeeds in making the passage? Yet
hundreds do so, including so-called untrained
birds.

Pigeon-racing being a national sport attracts
a good deal of attention, and in this way the

126

THE “ HOMING” INSTINCT 127

public becomes acquainted with the fact that
pigeons are capable of finding their way over
hundreds of miles of land and sea, but whether
by instinct or training it has no time to inquire.
But when seriously studying these problems
we must search through Nature’s book. Here
we find that the ‘‘ homing ”’ instinct, or sense
of direction, is not confined to dogs, cats and
a few others, but is manifested in a greater or
less degree throughout the animal world, and
is traceableinman. We speak of some persons
having the “‘ bump of locality,” whilst others
are not so “gifted.” Like those “ fitful
recurrences ’’ before mentioned, the power is
subconscious, and the nearer we approach
man’s primitive state the more highly
developed is it seen to be.

The savage has no difficulty in finding his
way about in dense forests where civilized
man, without mechanical aid, would certainly
lose himself. Whereas the former is led by
infallible subconscious mind, the latter must
rely on his reasoning powers, which are liable
to miscalculation; thus the man makes a
mistake, loses his bearings, and having no
sense of direction is helplessly at a loss.

In the face of overwhelming evidence to the
contrary, it is difficult to understand how
anyone can suppose that animals have no
K

128 THE CASE OF A CALF

instinctive sense of direction. Scarcely a day
passes but we hear of some instance where a
dog, cat or other animal, has found its way
home after deportation under circumstances
where it was impossible for the creature to
have obtained a view of the passing country.

A case in point has recently come to my
notice which is of unusual interest, and as the
incident chanced to occur in a locality well
known to me for many years, I am able to give
an accurate topographical description.

The man from whom I have the particulars
is a small tenant farmer in Carmarthenshire,
who is in the habit of rearing a few calves,
which he sends away by train to the markets.

On a recent occasion, Mr. Jones (they are
mostly Jones in these parts) having tied up a
six-weeks’-old calf in a sack, its head protrud-
ing from the mouth thereof, put the animal at
the bottom of his cart and proceeded to drive
to the station. Mr. Jones’s farmhouse, be it
understood, stands on the left bank overlook-
ing the river. Leading from the farm there
is a narrow lane which debouches on the
high road. On emerging from this lane the
farmer would keep to his left and drive up the
valley for a mile, where the river again ap-
proaches the road. At this point a by-road
strikes off to the left, and passing over a stone

THE CASE OF A CALF 129

bridge winds up to the station. Thus by the
road to the station is about two miles, and
from the station to the farm, “‘ as the crow flies,”
say, a mile and a half. The intervening
country consists of small fields enclosed by
high banks with top-growth. There is also a
large covert occupying most of the ground on
the Cardiganshire side of the river which
stretches up hill to the station. In fact, this
wood is a game preserve having no thorough-
fare, a rough bit of country cut off by the
railway embankment at the top and hemmed
in by the river below.

Now, on the occasion referred to, the farmer
reached the station in the afternoon of the day,
and after having consigned his goods left the
sack containing the calf on the platform to
await the train, and returned home, thinking
no more of the matter.

Early next morning Mr. Jones’s attention
was attracted by bovine lamentations pro-
ceeding, apparently, from one of his meadows
on the riverside, a field away up stream from
the farm. Walking up the bank of the river
to investigate the cause of the disturbance,
he reached a “‘ bushed’”’ gate which divides
these fields (upper and lower). Owing to a
bend in the river the fields converge, leaving
a narrow passage which is filled in by the gate.

130 =CALF’S SENSE OF DIRECTION

Unless the gate is open nothing can pass at
this place. Here then, on the wrong side of
the gate, Mr. Jones, to his utter amazement,
beheld the calf which on the previous day he
had left tied up in a sack at the station.

That the animal had somehow struggled out
of the sack and got clear of the place was quite
possible, for until the train was due there
would be no one on the platform ; but how so
young a creature could have found its way
over the ground described and crossed the
river, as it must have done, is hard to imagine
and will never be known. The fact of its being
found in the field by the river proved that it
could not have come there except in a direct
line. Had the animal kept to the road, which
lies half a mile or more back from the river, it
could by no possibility have crossed the inter-
vening land, which includes private grounds
and gardens, besides some impracticable
banks and hedges. Therefore there can be
no doubt whatever that the animal, acting
under nature’s guidance, proceeded in a direct
line.

To believe this calf mentally capable of
recording landmarks from the bottom of the
cart, or, for that matter, in any other position,
is of course absurd. Were this incident the
only evidence it is sufficient to prove that

TRAINING PIGEONS 131

creatures of the animal world possess an
unerring sense of direction.

Had the converse occurred, viz., that the
cow had so discovered her offspring, the occur-
rence, though remarkable enough considering
the nature of the ground traversed, would have
been less surprising.

The notion of a pigeon scrutinizing ex
passant the “hills and valleys’ for future
reference is indeed attributing to the bird
faculties of a truly human order. At the same
time, if we allow that pigeons have an innate
sense of direction, the question naturally
arises, why train them? Is training neces-
sary? In the writer’s opinion, training is
necessary, for this reason: The birds, being
captives and domesticated to serve man’s
purposes, are not living under purely natural
conditions and therefore are not free to mani-
fest their powers at their own (nature’s) times
and seasons. Instead, they are thrown up to
find their way at any odd time and in any state
of weather. The system from nature’s aspect
is irregular ; in fact, it is another instance of
the amateur meddling with machinery he does
not appreciate and results in the upsetting of
the equilibrium. Training, so far as may be,
corrects this ; not by inculcating or improving

132 EFFECT OF FOG ON PIGEONS

a faculty already perfect, but by engendering
habit—the habit of returning home immedi-
ately on being liberated, essential to racing
purposes.

When a pigeon is liberated away from home
there is no reason why it should return then
and there. Though it generally does so, there
is always the possibility that the bird may be
attracted by likely looking feeding-grounds,
such as cornfields, over which it is passing.
Having alighted, possibly it meets with others
of its kind, and so loses the inclination to
return, and perhaps never returns at all. But
that is not to say the pigeon has failed because
unable to find its way. Training tends to
reduce the chances of loitering.

Those who argue in favour of ‘‘ observation
and memory ’’ maintain that, had pigeons a
sense of direction, fog would not hinder them.
No doubt fog has some effect on the birds :
they are said to refuse to start in it, which
perhaps is not surprising.

Fog has always a depressing influence,
mentally as well as physically. It is possible,
therefore, that subconscious perceptions are
dulled by certain atmospheric conditions
which may be sufficient to deter pigeons from
setting out in foggy weather. It is certain,
however, that having once made a start, birds

TELESTHESIA 133

are not utterly baffled when overtaken by fog.
I myself have seen “ flights’ on migration
steadily pursuing a direct course through
dense fog. Flying low, detached parties would
come along at intervals and continue in the
same direction as those preceding them.

The subconscious faculty known as “ telzs-
thesia ”’—perception at a distance, or power of
vision passing the limits of time and space—is, I
believe, the explanation of what we under-
stand by the ‘‘ homing ”’ instinct or sense of
direction. Of this I shall have more to say
later on.

CHAPTER XVIII

FROGS AND TOADS

WHETHER or not pigeons are capable of taking
observations during flight, it must be admitted
they have every opportunity for so doing. But
to turn another page in Nature’s book, we
note the manifestations of a creature who has
practically no outlook on the surroundings, yet
makes its point, notwithstanding.

In early spring frogs and toads (the latter
shun water except at the breeding season)
make their way in a direct line across country
to some pond or pool of water. When the
country is enclosed these creatures are ham-
pered by innumerable obstacles in the form
of hedges, banks and thick undergrowth, yet
nothing daunts them. From their low posi-
tion in the grass the frogs can see next to
nothing around them.

Some of these travellers have long distances
to cover, and being slow movers take days to
accomplish the journey. But with the ex-
ception of those (a large number) who succumb

134

FROGS 135

to the attacks of predatory enemies, not a
living frog or toad but finds its way to the
water side. Where water is frequent there may
be nothing remarkable in this, but if proof of
the frog’s subconscious power is desired, it
may be had by anyone interested and with
time to spare. He has only to keep watch at the
proper season on a piece of water completely
isolated, but known for a breeding place. If
dry in the summer so much the better, for then
it will not harbour possible frogs who might
remain in or aroundit. Thus, at the appointed
time (oftener at night), the batrachians will be
seen converging from all directions. Now the
‘frog’s previous acquaintance (if any) with this
pond cannot have been less than a year old,
when it may have emerged from the same
pond after completing the tadpole period.
Following nature’s usual scheme in this
regard, it is possible that frogs return to the
waters in which they were spawned; fish
(Salmonide) are known to do so.

We note in this case that after developing
legs the tadpoles (now frogs) are subconsciously
urged to quit the water: they are seen hopping
away from it in thousands when no larger than
peas, and again, by the same power, are drawn
back to it after a certain lapse of time. The
action is as regular as the clock’s pendulum,

136 THE FRESH-WATER EEL

which swings equally from either extremity.
Truly nature’s machinery is no less accurate.
The following is a still more remarkable
instance of a creature whose innate sense of
direction leads it to isolated water-holes of
whose whereabouts it can by no possibility
have conscious knowledge. This is the fresh-
water eel, of whose life-history and mode of
propagation nothing was known until quite
lately. It was known, however, that eels
inhabited rivers and ponds, and in these situa-
tions it was supposed they bred ; but no trace
of the ova was discovered either in the water
or in the fish itself, a circumstance which
apparently gave rise to a quaint superstition,
viz., that eels were produced from horsehairs !
Incredible as it may sound, such was the
common belief even among educated people.
The notion no doubt originated from the
fact of the existence, in ditches and ponds, of
a kind of water-worm (Gordius aquaticus)
which has nothing to do with eels, but cer-
tainly has the appearance of an animated
horsehair. However, it has now been ascer-
tained that though eels live, it may be for
years, in fresh water, they are really native
of the sea. In order to propagate their species
a certain proportion of eels go down yearly to
the sea to spawn. In the spring, the young,

EEL TAKES TO THE LAND 137

known as “ elvers,”’ find their way into the
estuaries, and in countless thousands push up
stream, some of them reaching the very source
of the river. So strong is the subconscious
energy in these thread-like creatures that
nothing stops their upward progress; mill-
dams, weirs, waterfalls, all are surmounted ;
where the elvers cannot swim they wriggle
up over rocks and banks until gaining the
water above. In fact, wherever suitable water
exists, eels will find it, even though it be an
isolated pond having no outlet.

The fact of eels being found in lone ponds
in former times surprised no one, for it was
presumed they bred in these pools ; but now
we know that to get into such places the eel
can only come from the river. Asmall trickle or
damp ditch is sufficient water-way, but if this
is wanting the eel takes to the land, and with
serpentine movement wriggles its way across
meadows, travelling mostly in the evening or
at night when the grass is damp with dew.
Now that there are many more observers of
natural history than formerly, these cross-
country excursions on the part of the eel have
frequently come under notice.

Literally this is a case of “a fish out of
water’’; nevertheless, the eel makes its point
as surely as the frogs.

138 THE EEL A SEA FISH

The true home, so to speak, of any particular
species is the place where it is commonly
reproduced. The so-called river-eel, there-
fore, is distinctly a sea fish which frequents the
river for catering purposes.

Going back into the long past, we can
imagine that sea-eels living in the vicinity of
estuaries were attracted by a supply of food
in the form of worms, etc., washed down to
them at flood times. But as this influx would
only occur occasionally, the expectant eels, it
is natural to suppose, would acquire the habit
of pushing up stream to look for them. After
a time habit becomes fixed, and, eventually,
hereditary ; and with change of environment
differentiation takes place until the creatures
are in every way adapted to their altered
surroundings. In this way a new species
comes into being and continues constant so
long as the surroundings remain unaltered.

But notwithstanding the changed form and
mode of life, the home of the eel is always the
sea. Though countless ages have doubtless
passed since first the eel began to explore fresh
water, the subconscious mind never forgets, so
to express it, that in salt water only can the
species reproduce its kind; hence the migration
of eels from inland waters to the sea.

CHAPTER XIX
THE SALMON

Now the history of the salmon is just the
reverse to that of the eel. Bred in fresh water,
Salmo salar, notwithstanding the title, is a
river fish which migrates to the sea for the
purpose of obtaining food which the river
cannot produce. When descending the river
as a smolt (young salmon) it has no conscious
knowledge of the sea, but is impelled in the
right direction by subconscious mind, which
also rules the time of departure.

Pursuing the same line of argument it may
be interesting to trace, speculatively, the con-
nection which undoubtedly exists between
salmon and trout, and at the same time note
how the subconscious force, like the reversing
gear of machinery, needs but the touch of the
“mechanic ’’ to set the ‘‘ wheels’ revolving
in an opposite direction.

Naturally, trout are fish of clear, swift-
running streams; strong swimmers and of
a bold temperament, they are admirably

139

I40 TROUT

adapted to cope with turbulent waters, such
as the fresh-run salmon loves and stems with
ease.

A peculiarity of the genus trout is that,
relatively, the fish vary enormously in size,
more so perhaps than any known species.

But this is wholly a question of food supply ;
where the waters flow rapidly over a rocky
bed, and no weed exists, fish food is scarce,
and in consequence the trout, though reaching
maturity, rarely exceed a few inches in length.
Lower down the river, where the streams are
quieter and aquatic weed abounds, the aver-
age size is much larger, including fish from
I lb. and upwards ; in short, the richer and
more abundant the food the larger the trout.
When trout get to be of a certain age they are
wont to neglect the usual diet of flies, worms,
caddis, etc., for fish of all kinds, not excepting
their own species. In these cases they grow
to a great size, sometimes equalling the pro-
portions of salmon. This being so, we can
believe that trout having once got into the sea,
where the right kind of food (fish fry) is abund-
ant and procurable at a minimum of physical
exertion, must quickly fatten up, and also
that the effect of salt water would soon change
the appearance of the fish. Now, a river that
contains salmon invariably holds trout, and

SLOB-TROUT I4I

the rule is, as we have seen, that the trout in
the shallow, rocky streams at the head of the
river, are small; those in the middle sections
larger; and towards the mouth, where the
water runs deep and meets the tide, the
heaviest fish, known as “slob” trout, are
found. These slob-trout, as the name suggests,
are in the habit of moving up and down with
the tide, and so get accustomed to the brackish
water ; a plunge into the sea, therefore, would
not greatly affect them. It is conceivable
that during heavy floods in the past, as even
now may be the case, some of these fish would
be carried beyond the influence of the estuary.

Presuming this to have been the case, the
castaways, finding themselves in the midst of
plenty, would have no occasion to return at
once to the tide-way. In the meantime they
would become acclimatized to the changed
conditions, the result being gradual differenti-
ation of form and character, ultimating in—

(x) the species we recognize as Sea or
White-Trout ; and
(2) the Salmon.

Proof of the near relationship between sal-
mon and trout is the fact that ova taken from
a 20 lb. salmon can be fertilized by milt from
a trout of a few ounces, a cross which naturally

142 SALMONOID HYBRIDS

produces a hybrid. Owing to the facility of
cross-fertilization (accidental) between these
species (trout, white-trout and salmon), the
production of salmonoid hybrids is of frequent
occurrence and the cause of much confusion to
anglers and others, who are often puzzled to
identify these fish. A consequence of this is
that many local names have come into use
which are extremely misleading, especially to
the uninitiated who might naturally suppose
there exist a variety of thalassadromous sal-
mon, whereas, probably, there are only two
fixed species, all variants being hybrids of one
and another of these three species (including
trout).

Salmon, whose ancestors, we believe, were
trout, having thus outgrown the river to such
an extent that it was no longer possible to
obtain food in it, systematically journeyed to
the sea to cater for themselves, returning to
fresh water for breeding purposes only. This
they continue to do, because, being river fish,
fresh water is essential to the hatching and
maintenance of the young for the first year,
when their appearance is so similar to that of
trout of the same age as sometimes to puzzle
the angler himself to distinguish them apart.
When, after sojourn in the sea, the fish returns
to the river, the digestive organs lapse into a

SALMON: A QUERY 143

state of abeyance, food no longer assimilates ;?
in lieu, the salmon subsists on its own fat and
high condition consequent on a rich sea diet.
For this economical arrangement, which pro-
vides against what otherwise would be a
time of starvation, subconscious foresight is
answerable.?

Not so long ago, anyone who ventured to
assert that salmon take no food when in fresh
water was immediately posed with the ques-
tion: ‘‘ Why, if such is the case, should the
fish be attracted by the various baits and lures
presented to them by the angler?”’ But of
this we shall see later.

1 This does not apply so strictly to white trout; possibly on
account of their smaller size their food requirements come within
the limits of the river’s supply.

2 No ordinary salmon-river produces a tenth part of the food
necessary to meet the sudden invasion of a number of huge
predatory fish, supposing them to be dependent on it.

CHAPTER XX
THE SALMON-FLY

THE fact of salmon rising to the so-called “ fly”
—a monstrous artificial production in many
forms and colours, resembling nothing on
earth or in the water—presents somewhat of a
puzzle to those anglers who are convinced that,
whatever be the attraction, it is not a sense of
hunger which prompts these fish to pursue the
lure.

It might appear that this matter is not
germane to the subject, yet I believe a solution
to the problem will be found whilst pursuing
the very same lines of thought. Let us see.

Like all unreasoning creatures, the fish is
controlled by the subconscious principle within
it. The subconscious mind, as before noted,
responds promptly to external circumstances,
and, so far as may be, always in favour of the
welfare of the creature. Now the subconscious
mind functions naturally, without reference to
any mental process, and in the purely natural
world this is all-sufficient and works without

144

BEHAVIOUR OF ANIMALS 145

hindrance, perfectly. But when man appears
on the scene he forthwith upsets nature’s
arrangements, because his knowledge (ac-
quired), though general, lacks the perfection
of instinct. The animal, on the other hand,
having no independent reasoning powers, is
at one and in sympathy with nature. When
considering nature this fact must be borne in
mind, namely, that animals have no sense of
reasoning.

Had salmon the power of reflection, however
limited, the angler would meet with even less
success than at present attends his efforts.

Unwittingly, for the most part, the angler
takes advantage of this fact, namely, the
salmon’s incapacity for reflection. But of
this we shall see later. In the meanwhile, we
will again consider the behaviour of animals
in general under certain incidental circum-
stances which perhaps may throw a light on
the subject.

All creatures, as we have seen, are provided
with one or more means for self-protection,
without which they could not compete in the
struggle for existence.

The weaker ones, those who possess no
actual weapons of defence, rely on wing power
and swiftness of foot. These are mostly of a
shy and timid order, and when suddenly

146 DOG AND DUCK DECOY
surprised either escape at once or promptly
conceal themselves, or seek shelter aiter out-
distancing the enemy. If, however, the in-
truder has first been detected at a distance,
these creatures assume the rigid, observant
attitude as noted under wildfowl. But, in
this case, should the enemy, for some reason,
chance to make a retrograde movement, it
often happens that these naturally timid
ones cautiously proceed to follow in the wake
of the foe; an innate sense of curiosity seems
to lead them on in the track of possible
danger. The more unusual to the surround-
ings or abnormal in appearance is the object,
the greater the attraction appears to be.

An instance of this may be seen at a duck-
decoy, where a dog is used to attract the birds.
Though the dog is a natural foe perfectly well
known to the ducks, he is, in this otherwise
quiet spot, out of place ; but when in the
middle of the pool the ducks (subconsciously)
know they are safe, and as the dog retreats
along the edge of the water (he is trained to do
so), the birds start to swim in his direction
until they have passed within the first or
outer screen of the decoy ; then the dog slips
back under cover and shows himself above the
screen and behind the ducks. Now the distance
between the dog and the ducks is much

A SENSE OF CURIOSITY 147

reduced, the latter become alarmed, and in
their fright press on up the narrowing water.
In the meanwhile, the dog (or decoy-man)
keeps moving on from screen to screen, until
finally the whole flock is enmeshed.

Now, had the ducks a spark of individual
intelligence there is nothing to prevent them
from either swimming or flying back into the
open water with impunity, but they cannot
do so for lack of reasoning powers.

A sense of what we must understand as
curiosity is quickly aroused in birds by the
sudden appearance in their midst of a foreign
species of gaudy plumage; even a yellow
canary, at large, will produce the same effect,
which is, as most people know, that the un-
fortunate and, maybe, harmless creature is at
once mobbed and set upon by all the small
birds in the neighbourhood. The meaning of
this is that the bird is strange, 7.e., not natural
to these particular surroundings; the sub-
conscious mind, therefore, is not in sympathy
with it; but should the occurrence become
common, natural harmony, by degrees, is
restored. The readjustment is gradual, be-
cause there is no intelligence whereby it might
be quickly effected.

In the same way animals become accus-
tomed, as we say, to innovations, such as

148 THE HORSE A TIMID CREATURE
bicycles, motors, aeroplanes, etc. What at
first caused terror no longer affects them when
ceasing to be anything out of the ordinary.

A horse, for instance, is easily affrighted,
and so may be classed under “‘ timid animals.”
Quite an insignificant object, if out of place,
causes a horse to shy and bolt. Trusting his
legs to carry him swiftly out of the (supposed)
danger zone, the animal makes off at full
speed. Many grave accidents have resulted
from this proneness on the part of the horse to
shy at misplaced objects.

The elephant does not shy; not perhaps
because the beast is more courageous than the
horse, but because it has other means for self-
protection in the stead of speed on which it
can barely rely.

When speaking of the horse we sometimes
apply the term “‘ courageous,” “ an animal of
high courage ’’ is a common expression ; but,
naturally, the creature is highly strung and
nervous, and shows courage only when in-
spired by a human spirit. (Horse and rider
should be in telepathic sympathy.) Though
» many are savage, no animal, I believe, is really
- courageous in the true sense; real courage
infers a realization of mortal danger which
animals cannot appreciate.

As an example of animals becoming

HORSE PRONE TO SHY 149

accustomed to non-natural objects, we might
instance some manufactured article, such as
an umbrella. A horse who had never seen a
man carrying an umbrella over his head, and
was suddenly to meet one, would almost
certainly shy, if he did not actually jump
round and bolt in an opposite direction ; but
after seeing the same constantly, he becomes
gradually reconciled and finally ceases to take
any notice of it whatever.

Now, change the scene. Picture the same
horse being led through a gate and turned
loose in the field. His first impulse is to start
off at full gallop, head and tail in the air.

Full of spirit on obtaining his liberty, the
horse careers wildly round the field feeling, no
doubt, in complete sympathy with his sur-
roundings, which, in fact, for the moment he
is. Thus galloping, the animal rounds an
angle of the hedge when he comes suddenly
on an open umbrella lying prone on the grass
and rocking in the wind.

Under these conditions, no longer normal,
it would be fairly safe to say that the animal
would inevitably shy at the object (which he
has seen a thousand times before, but under
different circumstances) and gallop from it as
one possessed. But after covering a certain
distance the horse is seen to face round, stare

150 CURIOSITY SUCCEEDS FRIGHT

at the umbrella and snort. Then perhaps a
sudden gust drives the umbrella towards him,
whereupon the animal starts off again in mad
career. But being confined by the hedges of
the field, he eventually finds himself on the
further side of the dreaded object, which,
meanwhile, continues its erratic course before
the wind. But now it is travelling away from
the horse who, by this time, has come to a
standstill and is gazing fixedly at the retreat-
ing object. By degrees the panic condition
subsides, giving place to curiosity, and the
horse, like the ducks, slowly proceeds to
follow up the very object which at first was
the cause of such abject fright.

The end of it is, the horse approaches the
umbrella and actually sniffs at it; but he
comes to no reasonable conclusion, the proof
of which is that should the umbrella chance to
be blown out in his face, he becomes panic-
stricken as before. Yet the thing is perfectly
harmless, as any being with intelligence would
have seen at a glance.

We gather from this description, which I
think is fairly true to nature, that the senses
of fear and curiosity are somehow connected.

The animal man (and dare I say woman ?)
has this same sense of curiosity strongly in-
herent, as is shown by the following common

ANIMALS LED BY SENSE OF CURIOSITY 151

expression: ‘‘ My natural sense of curiosity
compelled me to go and see what it was.”

Exactly; his :mnate sense of curiosity over-
whelmed all considerations at the moment the
occurrence took place.

The subconscious mind is in action before
the intellect can be brought into line. The
animal having no intelligence is simply led on
indefinitely by its sense of curiosity, even
though it be to destruction; but notwith-
standing, this sense of curiosity would appear
to be one of nature’s schemes for self-protec-
tion. So long as their surroundings are
entirely normal the creatures live and function
in complete harmony with nature, for they
themselves are parts of the natural surround-
ings ; but when anything abnormal occurs a
discordant note is struck which destroys the
harmony ; it no longer rings true. The con-
sequence is the animals become restless, and
are impelled to go and inspect the cause of the
disturbance though they are powerless to
reason out the circumstance, and cannot tell
whether the appearance portends danger or
not. The result is that the creatures are
either scared into the panic condition, or else
held to the spot, fascinated.

In most cases an unnatural happening would
be fraught with danger, especially to animals.

CHAPTER XXI

CREATURES ATTRACTED BY UNUSUAL APPEARANCES

Now to examine some further examples of the
way in which creatures are attracted by un-
natural, unusual appearances.

Let us imagine a herd of cattle peacefully
grazing in a meadow whilst the farmer is seen
making his way across the field. Unless the
man is bringing food, or it happens to be
milking time, he attracts no attention, the
beasts do not so much as look at him. But
should he elect to stop in the middle of the
field and then proceed to stand on his head,
maintaining that posture, the whole herd will
be round him in less than no time, and, more-
over, he runs considerable chance of being
butted by one or more of the animals, who are
supposed to know him well. In the mean-
time, the man in the road laughs at the
spectacle, and inwardly exclaims, ‘“‘ What a
fool old Jones is making of himself’’; but he
feels no pressing inclination to join in with the
assembled beasts, for the whole scene has been
enacted deliberately. To him, Jones is still

152

BEHAVIOUR OF A HERD OF CATTLE 153

Jones, whether standing on his head or his
heels. But this is not so with the beasts who
can only perceive an abnormal appearance,
which first startles, then attracts, and finally
irritates them.

It is true the spectator may experience some
curiosity as to why Jones should have made
such an exhibition of himself, and this causes
him to reflect ; but what primarily induced
the sensation of curiosity was the working of
his own subconscious mind.

Taking advantage of this sense of curiosity
in unreasoning creatures, man has invented
an ingenious device for attracting larks. These
birds (skylarks) have a marketable value, and
judging from the numbers seen hanging up in
the poulterers’ shops it is evident that in some
way they are slaughtered wholesale. Netting,
probably, accounts for many, though of this
I have no experience, but can testify to the
efficacy of the above-mentioned invention,
which, without going into unnecessary par-
ticulars, consists of a column of upright pris-
matic mirrors arranged in circular form and
rotated by clockwork.

This apparatus is placed on the ground in
open country, and, of course, can only be used
in clear weather, when the rays of the sun are
refracted by the mirrors, with the result that

154 LURING SKYLARKS

the scintillations therefrom are visible at a
long distance. This entirely abnormal appear-
ance proves irresistible to the larks, who soon
gather round and wheel about in great num-
bers above the object of their curiosity.

It is then an easy matter for the sports-
man (?), concealed under cover of a stunted
bush or ‘‘ hide ”’ of some kind, to fire into the
“brown,’’ and to keep on firing at intervals,
for the larks seem positively hypnotized and
are loath to quit the spot.

Light intensified by darkness has always a
great fascination for animals. The beasts of
the forests, though fearing fire, nevertheless
are attracted by the light of camp fires.

“The moth to the flame” is proverbial.
Insects of all kinds come to light, and by this
means many rare specimens find their way
into the entomologist’s cabinet. And lastly,
fish, particularly salmon, fall a prey to man
from a sense of curiosity which impels them
to rise to the surface of the water when a
bright light is shed from above.

If it were not for this subconscious impulse,
so commonly observed in nature, namely, an
irresistible desire to pry into something un-
known, I believe it would not be possible to
take salmon in fresh water with any kind of
bait or lure.

THE SALMON PROBLEM 155

That we can do so, occasionally, is due to a
psychological condition which, to my mind,
makes the salmon problem extremely inter-
esting both from the scientific and practical
point of view.

In deluding trout by means of an artificial
fly there is no mystery whatever. In this case
the fish seizes the object for what it represents,
namely, an exact copy of the insect food of
which the trout is in search, and which it
greedily takes when skilfully presented. But
in salmon fishing, skill is not nearly so
essential ; that is to say, the veriest tyro, who
by no possibility could catch a trout, may
easily hook a salmon, providing he can manage
to get the fly somehow, or anyhow, over the
spot at the ‘‘ psychological moment.’’ That
is the whole secret, and unless the angler is
fortunate in timing this event he may fish,
never so skilfully, the whole day long without
moving a fish, and then perhaps, to his disgust,
behold the said tyro arrive on the scene and
immediately get fast in a salmon.

Success in salmon fishing, as I think any
old hand will agree, is absolutely a matter of
luck in so far as raising the fish is concerned.
The most that can be said is that the man who
“sticks at it’ longest scores the most fish.

CHAPTER XXII

THE ‘“‘ GENTLE ART”

THOUGH this is not intended as a treatise on
angling, it is necessary to go into some details
in connection with the “‘ gentle art ’’ in order
to review the matter from a psychological
standpoint, and incidentally to suggest a
reason why the fish is so erratic in its move-
ments.

Anglers of experience, having formed their
own opinions on this subject, are not easily
converted to another’s views and theories ;
there is no reason why they should be; there-
fore in submitting my conclusions, based on a
long experience, I write in no dogmatic spirit,
but offer them for what they are worth. At
the same time, I shall endeavour to make no
statements unsupported by evidence familiar
to anglers.

Now, with regard to salmon flies, there are
certain recognized standard types, besides
innumerable fancy patterns, not one of which

has a living prototype; however, all are
156

THE “RIGHT” FLY 157

duly, if absurdly, named. Thus we have
“Doctors,” ‘‘ Butchers,” ‘‘ Rangers,” ‘‘ Snow
flies,’ etc.

Who, indeed, ever heard of a Snow fly!
Surely not the salmon, nor did he ever see the
ghost of one until some cunning angler first
presented to his notice a bunch of bright
coloured feathers tied to the silver-gleaming
shank of a hook.

The generality of salmon anglers are greatly
exercised in their minds regarding the “right”
fly to use before proceeding to business, and
much precious time is often wasted whilst
selecting it. The state of the water, weather
conditions, the size of the fly and, last but not
least, the local type of fly must be considered.
For instance, a Dee fly is regarded as perfectly
useless in the case of salmon inhabiting the
Blackwater (County Cork), and vice versa; a
“Lemon-ended-grey ’’ would be deemed en-
tirely out of its element on the Dee. In fact,
each river appears to have evolved a special
“breed ’’ of fly, adapted to the locality, but
useless elsewhere. Seeing that not one of these
“fancies ’”’ represents anything on earth, the
matter might be described as “ one of those
things no fellah can understand.’’ And the
most amazing part of it is that there should be
exceptions. However, exceptions there are ;

158 THE ‘“ JOCK SCOTT”

some few patterns are permitted and may be
hopefully cast upon any waters.

Prominent amongst these is the well-known
“Jock Scott,” an excellent all-round fly which,
as a matter of fact, will kill fish the world over ;
and from this very fact, it may be, we shall
obtain a clue to at least part of the mystery.

Possibly it may never have occurred to any-
one that the dominant colours embodied in
the ‘‘ Jock Scott” are ‘‘ warning colours’’; not
only that, but warning colours of the deadliest
type. Yellow, or orange and black, is nature’s
indication that the bearer is not only dis-
tasteful, but actually poisonous. All creatures
recognize these colours, and promptly reject
as food anything remotely approaching this
combination. ‘‘ Warning colours ”’ are inten-
tionally conspicuous in order to attract atten-
tion and so give timely notice of the quality of
the bearer. I fear, however, that this argu-
ment is by no means calculated to inspire hope
in the breast of the angler who, under the
belief that he is offering a dainty morsel for
the salmon’s palate, presents a ‘‘ Jock Scott”
to his notice. No, as food, it would certainly
be declined; but, it has the effect of attracting
the fish, which is the first step.

Now we shall look at the matter from the
salmon’s point of view, always supposing him

THE SALMON’S CURIOSITY AROUSED 159

alive to passing events. Thus, the famous
“Jock Scott,” arrayed in “orange and black,”
comes overhead. At first the fish regards it
with suspicion as being something unnatural
to the surroundings, but any sense of fear is
soon dispelled by the fact that this strange
apparition shows no signs of aggressiveness ;
on the contrary, it has all the appearance of
trying to escape. This at once acts as an
incentive, and his natural curiosity being
aroused, the salmon goes in pursuit. The slow
moving object is quickly overhauled and com-
pletely at the mercy of the pursuer; but
warned by its colours, the latter turns over
and comes back to his original station. Again
the ‘‘ jigging ’’ object appears overhead; the
salmon’s curiosity is once more aroused;
plunging after the retreating form he rolls over
it with intent to destroy. But at the third
offer the fish is fairly irritated and charges.
ferociously, snapping at the object as a dog
might snap at a wasp, though, subconsciously,
he knows it for a noxious insect.

It may be objected that this presentation of
the case is problematical. Butisit? We will
interrogate the angler on the bank as to what
has happened. Says he: “‘ The salmon rose
at me three times, twice he missed the fly, but
I had him the third time.”

M

160 MODES OF APPROACH

If the salmon missed the fly, he did so
intentionally. What is the proportion, I
wonder, of rises to one salmon that is hooked ?

A salmon rising with real intent to capture
the slowly moving object would not, I believe,
miss it once in 100 times, whereas, in actual
practice, the “misses”? far outnumber the
“hits.”

We observe that the fish has several modes
of approach and attack. Sometimes he rises,
apparently, at the first offer in a determined
manner, which is considered the best kind of
rise. At another time he makes several feints
before finally catching hold (as described).
Then again, he is distinctly seen to follow the
lure slowly right across the river, repeating
the performance at each succeeding “ cast.”
In this case the fish rarely takes hold. Some-
times the salmon will come with a rush, head
and shoulders out of water, throwing himself
on top of the fly, apparently with intent to
drown it. The angler “ strikes,’ but, as a
rule, the fly comes back without resistance,
though there is always the off chance of foul-
hooking the fish, which, as a matter of fact,
does occur not infrequently.

To my mind these various performances
suggest that the salmon is not out for food,
but is attracted by curiosity which culminates

“JOCK SCOTT” AN ALL-ROUND FLY 161

in irritation or anger, as we might describe
the same emotion when manifested by the
cattle butting at the inverted man.

The subconscious mind of these creatures
resenis what it cannot understand—what, in
fact, is inharmonious or out of keeping with
the surroundings. Fear succeeded by curi-
osity and anger, it would seem, are different
phases of the same subconscious emotion.
After awhile, when the “Jock Scott’”’ or other
“fancy ”’ is daily fished down over the same
water, it becomes fart of the surroundings, and
the fish, greatly to the disgust of the angler,
ceases to take any notice of it whatever, which
would not be the case if the salmon was
hungering after food.

That the ‘Jock Scott’’ has the reputation
of being one, if not the best, all-round fly is
in itself significant; there must be some
reason for it: the fly could not have become
a universal favourite did it not possess some
exceptional qualities. I have pointed out
what, in my opinion, may be the explanation ;
but, in any case, the angler, when in doubt,
can hardly do better than mount the “ orange
and black.”

Should a brother angler chance to read these,
my views, on this particular fly, and be im-
pressed by them, he may think to himself

162 AN UNCERTAIN. RISER

“now I have a‘ tip’ for the ‘ right ’ fly,” and
truly I believe that, given other things equal,
he would kill, not more perhaps, but as many
fish, using this one fly (in different sizes) only,
as another free to choose from the whole
category of so-called salmon flies.

In trout fishing the angler can pretty well
judge when the fish may be expected to rise ;
in fact, he can see them in the act of sucking
in the natural insects as they float down the
stream and fish accordingly. But when
salmon show on the surface it is no indication
that they will rise to our fly; indeed, it is
rather a bad sign than otherwise. A salmon
may come at any time, or he may not come at
all, though we know, for a fact, that he lies in
a certain spot, and as if to reassure us of his
presence, occasionally shows himself by jump-
ing out of the water. Perhaps after toiling
daily for a week we at last succeed in getting
a rise out of him.

Now, in my belief, this erratic behaviour
can be accounted for when we come to look
into the creature’s habits. Why does the
salmon ascend rivers? And what is he doing
there, from the time of arrival till the breeding
season commences, a period covering some
months ?

As we have already noted, salmon enter

OXYGEN NECESSARY TO SALMON 163

fresh water for no other purpose than to shed
their spawn, and during the interval of waiting
they are doing, practically, nothing—merely
waiting for the ova (and sperm) to mature.
But to this end oxygen is highly necessary,
therefore we observe the fish lying mostly in
the heavy, aerated streams ; but as the water
gets low and becomes stale and tepid, the fish,
now and again, is compelled to come to the
surface and obtain air from the outside. I
make this statement with some assurance, as
I have been in a position to see a chain of air
bubbles rising from the depths which could
not be confused with scattered bubbles result-
ing from the splash of the fish as he plunged.

In highly aerated waters, such as the snow-
fed streams of Norway, salmon show less on
the surface, though probably there are more
fish contained in these rivers.

When creatures, either from lack of food,
climatic conditions or for other reasons, are
forced to “‘ weather’ a certain period, they
become inactive and pass into the state known
as ‘“‘hybernation”’ or “‘ estivation,” as the
case may be, when they rest in a torpid or
semi-torpid condition until nature is again
ready for them to resume active life. This, in
my belief, is the salmon’s case. Shortly after
entering fresh water the fish lapses into this

164 AESTIVATION OF SALMON
condition, namely (in his case), estivation ;
but, from various causes, the salmon’s sleep
is constantly interrupted. Temporary wake-
fulness is common to other creatures when in
the same state.

It may be said that if salmon were in a tor-
pid state they would be unable to hold their
own in the strong currents they are known to
frequent ; but even this (though immaterial
to my argument) I believe possible ; for when
we consider the shape and weight of the fish,
it is obvious that the slightest motion of the
tail is sufficient to keep it stationary in the
heaviest streams. The waving motion of the
tail of a fish in running water is automatic
and never ceases. An instance in point was
brought to my notice on an occasion when a
pike had been landed. The fish was knocked
on the head and suspended from the branch
of a tree. When in this position I noticed the
tail rhythmically waving; this it continued
to do for half an hour with exactly the same
motion as if the fish were alive and still in the
water.

However, as a general rule, salmon lie
behind submerged stones and rocks, and for
this reason the most likely “runs” to hold
fish are those in which rocks and boulders are
strewn about on the bed of the river, and so

LIKELY RUNS 165

deflect the swift-running current. Though
not always apparent from above, a swirl on
the surface of the water denotes the where-
abouts of these obstructions, and the ex-
perienced angler searches carefully with his
fly round about these spots, for, if anywhere, :/
it is here the salmon will be found; though
whether he be in a condition to notice the fly
is another matter. When in the lethargic state
I have suggested, the fish will not see the fly,
and the angler’s best endeavours prove
fruitless.

CHAPTER XXIII

A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

THE following, a personal experience, went far
to convince me that salmon in fresh water
pass much of their time in a drowsy, slumber-
ous state.

A friend and myself were trout fishing, in
early summer, on an Irish river. The water
at the time was dead low, and a bright sun
overhead. It was afternoon, and as there was
no prospect of sport I was sitting idly on the
bank watching my companion, who, with a
view to fishing the current in mid-river, was in
the act of wading out through a shallow back-
water, the bottom of which was strewn with
stones and boulders; in high water a likely
enough spot to hold a salmon, but now too low
for anything. Presently my friend called to
me to the effect that a salmon lay between two
boulders just in front of him. In answer, I
begged him to remain quietly until I should
come out, thinking at the same time he must
be mistaken on account of the shallowness of

the water.
166

A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE 167

However, after coming up behind him,
there, sure enough, was a salmon of about
12 lb., lying in less than 3 ft. of water and
fully exposed. Intent on making a nearer
inspection, I cautiously advanced until getting
within a few feet of the fish’s tail, where I
could see the eyes and every scale on its body.
I then carefully backed out without disturbing
the fish, and, together, we returned to the
bank to consider the situation. We had
nothing in the shape of salmon tackle, nor
would it have been of any use, in a legitimate
way, even had we possessed it. After con-
sulting for more than half an hour, we came
to the conclusion there was nothing to be done
by fair means ; but the day, so far, had been
blank, and here was a fish literally within our
grasp. We determined, therefore, if possible,
to ““grasp’”’ it. So, divesting myself of coat
and tucking up my sleeves, I again waded out
to the spot and found the salmon in the very
same position. But this time I got still closer,
practically standing over him, so that I could
now clearly observe the gills functioning in a
perfectly regular and normal way, which fact
convinced me there was nothing wrong with
the fish, though why he permitted so close an
approach was more or less of a mystery.

Now or never, thought I, so bending over

168 A SECRET FROM NATURE

the water (my head now on a level with that
of the fish) I slowly lowered my arm, intending
to grip the salmon above the tail rays. But
the end came quickly. For at the moment of
contact, before I could close down on him,
the form simply vanished as if it had been
some phantom of the depths. So quick was
his passage, I can only describe it as the flight
of an arrow from a bow; nothing remained
but a little cloud of dissipated sand.

Had my attempt succeeded, in all probability
the story would not have been told. However,
even had I obtained a fair grasp, I much doubt
whether it would have been possible to hold
on to a fresh and vigorous fish. Like most
anglers, I had landed many a salmon on the
line by this method, therefore knew exactly
how to proceed ; but, alas, this awakened fish
was too much for me.

Though it ended in a tramp home with
empty creels, the day had not been profitless ;
for though I had failed in seizing a salmon, I
had, so I thought (and still think),“ snatched”
a secret from nature.

That this salmon was perfectly healthy but
in a natural lethargic state, I was fully per-
suaded ; there was no other possible explana-
tion. A salmon with his eyes open, so to
speak, would not have permitted an approach

A SLEEPING SALMON 169

such as we made on the two occasions ; more,
he would not even have remained where he
was in the face of the first intruder who
chanced to pass along the bank. I have no
doubt in my own mind that what happened
was this: the salmon had taken up his
“lodge ’’ during high water, lapsed into the
torpid condition, and, being undisturbed,
remained thus until we discovered him, by
which time the water had subsided and run
down to a low level. In the reaches where
the incident occurred, the river was wont to
run off after a short spell of dry weather.

It has since often occurred to me, when
thinking of this event, that it is utterly futile
to cast over a fish in this state (state of
estivation). A sleeping salmon—or, at all
events, a salmon unconscious, for some reason,
of the presence of a man bending over it—
would scarcely be in a condition to notice a
small object such as a fly; and as with this
particular fish, so probably was the case of all
the others of the same species at that time and
state of the water.

Although the salmon estivates during the
summer months, his sleep, as we may call it,
is perpetually interrupted by the sudden
changes that take place in his native element.
An alteration in temperature, or rising of the

170 THE ANGLER’S OPPORTUNITY

water (spate), will awaken the fish, and as the
flood comes down he is impelled to continue
his upward journey to higher reaches. The
salmon being now fully awake pushes up
stream until the water begins to subside. This
is the angler’s most favourable opportunity,
because, not only is the fish awake, but on the
move, seeking a fresh ‘“‘lodge’”’ in which he
will again become dormant so soon as the
river declines. In the meanwhile, the water is
still discoloured, which is also in favour of the
angler. Under these circumstances, and pro-
vided the fish are up, the chances of attracting
and hooking a salmon are considerable ; but
once the water drops to summer level the
pursuit becomes well nigh hopeless. As
autumn draws on, however, matters begin to
improve, though the fish himself has very
much “ disimproved ”’; for now he presents
a dull coppery-red appearance instead of the
bright silver-sides we observed in the spring.
But he takes the fly much more readily, simply
because, having passed the period of estiva-
tion, the creature is wide awake and on the
move in anticipation of the breeding season.

The angler’s next meeting with the salmon is
early in the following spring, when the fish, lean
and lanky, hasresumed his silvery coat of scales,
and is then known as a “‘kelt”’ or spent fish.

REAL BAITS 17I

His habits are the same as before, excepting
that he is now no longer in the torpid state,
and shows himself more frequently on the
surface, for in his present emaciated condition
oxygen is more than ever necessary to keep
life in his body pending the flood water which
eventually carries him down and out of the
river. Thus, from first to last, the salmon takes
no food in fresh water; but, in the “ kelt ”
stage, the fish is more easily attracted by a
lure than at any other time, chiefly because
he is awake, and also, perhaps, because the
fasting period having nearly come to an end,
the naturally predacious fish is induced to grab
at anything that comes within reach; but,
most assuredly, the kelt does not wander in
search of food.

It may be asked, “‘ What of real baits used
by the salmon angler? ’’ My answer is that
what I have said of the salmon-fly applies
equally to these. All of them, without excep-
tion, are unnatural presentations. The worm,
of course, is a natural bait as far as it goes, but
it goes three at a time! Three lob-worms
strung together on a single hook are fished in
low, clear water, when no worms or other food
matter comes down ina natural way. In high,
discoloured water, when trout can be freely
taken with worm, salmon will not look at it ;

172 WORM AS BAIT

knowing it to be useless, the angler does not
then adopt this method. But in clear water,
salmon are now and again attracted from sheer
curiosity : the fish ‘nibbles gently at the trail-
ing worm-tail, but oftener than not, drops it
and has to be drawn out a second and a third
time before actually taking the worms into
his mouth. Still, the fact remains, that the
fish, given ample time, will sometimes swallow
down the whole bunch, though whether the
worms so. taken (eliminating the hook) would
remain in the stomach is doubtful. Fish, it
may be said, have great facility for disgorging ;
at any rate, no alimentary matter is ever found
in the intestines of salmon (including kelts)
which have been in the river for any length of
time; therefore, it seems reasonable to con-
clude that the salmon does not swallow this
bunch of worms because he needs food.
Another bait is the “ prawn,” a useful lure
at times, but of all unnatural curiosities em-
ployed by the salmon angler this is, perhaps,
the most preposterous. To begin with, a
prawn in any case is not natural to fresh water,
and when boiled assumes an unnatural colour ;
added to which, the movement imparted to it
by the angler (it is dragged tail foremost against
the current) is false to nature. But under
certain water conditions the prawn excites the

THE PRAWN AND SPINNING BAITS 173

salmon’s curiosity ; he follows it; but ob-
serve (it is sometimes possible to do so) how
he follows it. In most cases the fish does not
come with a rush, but slowly pursues the
object as if intent on making a thorough in-
spection before venturing to touch it. Then
perhaps the angler is conscious of a momentary
“pull’’ or drag on the line. I particularly
mention this fact because it is inconceivable
how the salmon can touch the prawn without
being hooked, seeing that a flight of hooks lie
at the extreme end—that is, at the head of the
prawn facing the fish. Such, however, is what
constantly happens in actual practice, and a
“strike ’’? at this juncture is likely to prove
fatal, as regards the angler.

I can only think that the fish makes a
tentative offer for the bait, at the same time
closing down his jaws on the feelers of the
prawn, which, of course, protrudesome distance
beyond the hooks.

Spinning baits, whether real or artificial,
may be briefly disposed of as being merely
variations of the same system, which is to
attract attention by exciting the fish’s natural
curiosity. The eccentric movement of these
baits gives the appearance of a fugitive dis-
abled and endeavouring to escape. And here
we may note a natural law which rules that

174 EVIDENCE OF A STRONG NATURE

nothing shall survive that is not absolutely
fit—is not in complete correspondence with
its surroundings. Thus, in pure nature we
observe that when a creature is in any way
sick or disabled, its fellows, instead of tending
it as would be the case with humans, mob and
drive it away, if they do not actually destroy
it. The fact, therefore, of a creature being in
trouble is in itself sufficient to incite another
with full powers, especially one of predatory
habit, to go in pursuit.

Before leaving this subject I would say, that
if evidence of a strong nature were necessary
to prove that salmon do not feed in fresh water,
it lies in the fact that no salmon (so far as Iam
aware) has ever been known to take a live bait,
a really natural object, and which proves so
deadly in the case of other predatory fish—
pike, perch, etc. No angler in his senses would
dream of live-baiting for salmon.

I have dwelt at some length on the salmon
problem in order to show the psychological
aspect of the case; but to do so, and obtain
the strongest evidence, it has been necessary
to go practically into angling matters. Such
evidence bearing on the behaviour of salmon
under certain conditions as I have here sub-
mitted, is only within the knowledge of prac-
tical anglers, but I have little hesitation in

FISH MANIFEST MIND-BLENDING | 175

saying that these, whatever be their indivi-
dual impressions as to the actual cause which
induces salmon to rise and take the fly and
other baits, will bear me out in these par-
ticulars. .

Fish, when in company (schools), manifest
very clearly the telepathic mind-blending
phenomenon. This will be apparent when
observing the movements of a packed mass of
recently hatched fry, such as minnows, or sea-
fry of any kind. As in the case of the birds,
the action of each tiny atom synchronizes with
the movements of his fellows, which causes
the massed units to move as one body. This
appearance is best seen when the fish are
swimming in mid-water, clear and still.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE SWARMING OF BEES

In respect to mind-blending, I have so far
maintained that all the units of a group, irre-
spective of sex and age, are of an equality ;
but as all rules have exceptions, it is well to
look into nature for one which may prove the
rule in this instance. Possibly it may be dis-
covered in Hymenoptera ; therefore, let us
take another glance at these insects.

The “swarming ’”’ of bees is not only an
extraordinary sight, but is significant when
taken in conjunction with my proposition.

What is this wonderful attraction which
enthrals the worker - bees? ‘‘ The queen,
naturally.’’ Yes, in every sense the ‘‘ swarm-
ing ’’ process is a natural scheme which en-
sures the continuity of this particular species.
Overcrowding necessitates distribution, and |
as in the case of the processionary cater-
pillars, it is imperative that the bees keep
together when seeking to form a fresh colony,

a special means has been evolved to meet the
176

ATTRACTION OF THE QUEEN 177

conditions ; hence the passing from place to
place of a large number of insects, flying in
company, is effected with absolute certainty.
The queen has a strong attractive power,
distinct from sexual attraction, seeing that
those subject to her spell are “ neuters ”’ (un-
developed females). It also seems fairly
certain that the swarming bees are not in-
fluenced by sight, for, ignoring the fact that
insects have a short range of vision, the bulk of
them cannot obtain a glimpse of the queen, so
completely is she blotted out by an inner wall
of the insects themselves.

Now the units composing this seething mass
are exactly of the same size and pattern ; the
queen, on the contrary, is much larger and
different in form, so that she is easily dis-
tinguished by the human eye with a reasoning
sense of proportion. The inference to be drawn
from this unusual divergence—according to
my argument—is, that though not one of the
community, of whatever description, possesses
an atom of intelligence, all are imbued with
subconscious mentality; but in the queen
there is centred a nucleus—a larger share than
possessed by any other single unit. This
may very well be, when we come to consider
the vitality (the Force-of-Life) in this abnor-
mal creature, the Queen-Mother, who has it in

178 THE QUEEN-MIND, A CENTRAL FORCE

her to vitalize an entire colony. Thus
whereas the mind-units of the workers are
equal, the queen-mind preponderates and acts
as a central force.

But this case, exceptional as it is, does not
affect my original hypothesis, namely, that
the group or ‘‘ swarm,” as the case may be, is
served by one pervading mind.

Myers says: ‘‘ Mutual gravitation or kin-
ship of spirits which is the foundation of the
telepathic law.”

This concisely describes my understanding
of mind-blending as I have applied it to the
Animal World.

It is not necessary for my purpose to dwell
on the doings of bees whose proceedings have
been so ably treated by more competent
writers. But in case it should be urged that,
though my theory may possibly account for
the act of ‘‘swarming,’’ it does not apply to
the behaviour of these wonderful creatures
when at work in the hive where dissimilar
operations are in process at the same time, I
therefore propose the following simile, which,
notwithstanding that it deals with human
units, appears, to some extent, to fit the case.

Thus, we will compare an insect community
to a vessel at sea with a full complement of
men. During the voyage from one port to

A SIMILE 179

another the ship is completely isolated, and
therefore self-dependent. In fine weather and
foul weather the vessel continues to maintain
a true course, and ultimately reaches the haven
of her destination.

This achievement is the result of the com-
bined labour of many hands in various capa-
cities. But these hands (members of the crew),
who bring the ship safely into harbour, have
no will of their own in this matter. They are
neither supposed nor required to think ; simply
and automatically they obey orders trans-
mitted by the Captain, who has in his mind—
or should have—the whole working system of
the ship in minutest detail. Any inclination
to reflect on the part of these human units
tends only to obstruct the proper conduct and
management of the vessel.

In regard to the actual undertaking, all
hands are imbued with the same object, viz.,
to bring the ship to the port of her destination.
But it is immaterial that these hands shall
know the name of the port, or even the in-
tention of the undertaking. But as to the work
in hand all the members of the crew, in what-
ever capacity, are of the same mind, 1.e., one
mind which is open and free to receive thoughts
(verbally transmitted in this case) emanating
from the Master-Mind, the Captain of the ship.

180 INCLUSIVE SYMPATHETIC REACTION

This is an example of inclusive, sympathetic
reaction, without which no undertaking that
necessitates combined labour can be accom-
plished.

If this is so in the instance of a human
community, how much more perfect must be
the system where the “‘ seat of mentality ”’ is
infallible and the individual units devoid of
reasoning powers.

From this it will be seen that the human
members and the insect units of a community
behave in a very similar manner. In either
case their actions are, so to speak, automatic.
But there is always this difference between the
human and the insect unit, namely, whereas
the former must first learn and then practise
his one job until it becomes subconsciously
impressed, the latter, being incapable of
intelligent effort, acts, from the first, in
accordance with spontaneous knowledge—
knowledge which, in the case of bees, includes
the execution of many duties simultaneously
performed. But in both instances one mind
pervades the whole company.

Another example, in which the reasoning
faculty is eliminated, is presented when we
come to consider the functional operations,
simultaneously performed, which are in con-
stant process within the human body. In

BEE “SCOUTS” 181

health we do not consider nor give a thought
to these functions, for they operate of them-
selves, automatically, as we say; but really
they act under the control of the natural, sub-
conscious mind which, truly it may be said,
is the ever-wakeful “‘ captain of the ship.”

Bees are endowed with a greater variety of
instincts than perhaps any other community
of insects. The doings of these creatures are
so astonishing that it is difficult to believe that
their works are not the result of reason. The
effects of instinct seem more wonderful than
those of reason ; and so indeed they are, and
much more certain in their performance than
canever be the tentative efforts of the reasoning
mind.

No sooner has a bee dried her wings after
emergence from the native cell, than immedi-
ately she sets to work with a perfect knowledge
of what has to be done, and does it accord-
ingly. It is absurd, therefore, to imagine that
the creature is acting with individual intelli-
gence. And yet it seems to be a generally
accepted fact that bees, prior to swarming,
send out scouts to prospect for a suitable
habitation which, it is said, is subsequently
occupied by the new colony. Who sends
them?

If this act of scouting were indeed a fact, it

182 BEES “SENSE” A CAVITY

would prove beyond all question of doubt
that bees are reasoning creatures possessed of
minds on a level with human intelligence. For,
in this event, the bees must certainly commu-
nicate the results of their investigations, and
at the time of swarming the said scouts would
have to Jead the way to the previously chosen
spot, always supposing that the bees’ sight is
such as to enable them to keep the leaders in
view. Without individual intelligence, such
a performance must be impossible.

As, naturally, we are apt to regard animal
manifestations from the human standpoint,
it is little wonder that we can be deceived
by appearances. This ‘“‘scouting party,” for
instance, may have quite a different interpre-
tation put upon it. The scouts, we will say,
are observed busy on the roof of a house. At
first they are seen to rove up and down the
sloping slates or tiles, evidently in search of an
aperture which may or may not exist ; but in
any case they have some trouble in finding it,
which is due to the bee’s very short range of
vision. It is not, however, the hole in the roof
which first attracts the bees’ attention, but
the fact that under the roof there is a hollow
space. How do they know it?

As the water-finder discovers the presence
of an underground spring, and the ichneumon-

BEES “SENSE” A CAVITY 183

fly detects the larva concealed in the wood of
the tree, so have bees a like power of finding
cavities which from the outside show no indica-
tions.

That this is actually the case I have no
doubt whatever, and I think that anyone
investigating in the way I have done will come
to the same conclusion.

But first I should say that, in my belief,
these “ scouts,” though possibly belonging to
the same hive, are not sent out in connection
with the swarm, but are merely insects whose
line of flight to the meadows has chanced to
carry them over the house-top, where their
course has been arrested by a certain sense
perception which to these insects indicates a
cavity.

But if after due investigation no means of
ingress be discovered the bees abandon the
house, though some few find their way
through the windows ; the bee, however, has
no use for an aperture of the dimensions of a
window frame. On the other hand, should a
hole be found in the tiles, that particular roof
will always attract a certain amount of bees,
for these creatures cannot resist exploring a
hole which leads to a cavity.

Seeing that bees are bred and reared in
cavities of some description, where, indeed,

184 A PRACTICAL TEST

the most part of their existence is spent, it is
a very natural instinct which inclines them to
make these explorations.

Now we shall proceed to a practical test
which, in my opinion, suffices to prove that
bees have the power to discover cavities
independently of eyesight.

Let the nature-student betake himself to a
wood where the trees are sparse. Here ona
bright day in early spring he will meet with
humble-bees of different species who are mak-
ing their first appearance after hybernation.
These bees are all females bent on the same
object, which is to find a suitable under-
ground cavity wherein to rear the brood of
the year.

Whilst strolling in the copse the investiga-
tor soon catches sight of his quest, a portly
humble-bee, who is in the act of flying round
in circles over the ground; as he approaches
the insect buzzes round him and then goes off,
but returns again immediately to continue the
same manceuvres. In the meanwhile, the
observer has taken up his position against a
tree, where he remains motionless and watches
the bee in the execution of her circuitous
evolutions.

But to state the matter shortly, the meaning
of this particular behaviour on the part of the

HUMBLE-BEE “SENSING” A CAVITY 185

bee—which can only be witnessed at this
season—is that she is now in the act of
“sensing ” the ground for a cavity in which
to construct her nest. In nine cases out of ten
she is unsuccessful—no such cavity exists ; in
that case the bee goes off elsewhere to resume
her quest. Thus the naturalist needs to have
patience. But his time will come; sooner or
later he will be rewarded by seeing the bee,
after circling round in the usual fashion, drop
on the ground and commence to crawl about
amongst the dead leaves and brambles. In
this event it may be concluded that she has
“sensed ”’ a cavity, and is now endeavouring
to find an entrance to it. If the hollow space
lies close beneath the surface the bee forces
her way into it ; but if it should be deep down,
and there is no mouse’s hole leading into it or
other means of access, she quits the spot and
flies off to hunt in another place. But in this.
case it is always worth while to prod round
about the spot with some sharp-pointed instru-
ment, for the chances are that a hollow space
will be detected.

These investigations, of course, involve
some trouble and a considerable amount of
patience, but the truth-seeker will not grudge
the time thus spent.

If it were not for this sense perception which

186 BEES’ AND WASPS’ NESTS
empowers insects to discover concealed cavi-
ties, bees and wasps would never get into the
odd places from which in late summer we sce
them emerging in vast numbers.

CHAPTER XXV
TELZSTHESIA

TELZSTHESIA—clairvoyant perception—ac-
counts, I believe, not only for the “ homing ”
instinct, but it is this same faculty (travelling
clairvoyance) which enables birds of different
species on migration to find their way to
remote countries over hundreds, nay, thous-
ands of miles of land and sea.

With seasonal regularity millions of birds
journey to and fro from one continent to
another. Birds of the year are, of course,
making the journey for the first time. How
do they achieve such an _ undertaking?
“Observation and memory ”’ theorists assert
that the young birds are conducted by their
parents, or others who have made the journey
before. Let us consider what this really
amounts to. Picture a case, the case of the
Willow-Warbler, for instance.

The Willow-Warbler (P. trochilus) is a very
small bird of weakly flying habit, nevertheless

it is along distance migrant. Supposing, then,
187

188 MIGRATION OF THE WILLOW WARBLER

that a family of these warblers sets out on a
journey from England to Africa. Starting
from an inland place they have first to find
their way to the coast, where, possibly, they
fall in with other migrants bound in a southerly
direction; but being weak fliers they are
unable to keep pace, and so are thrown on
their own resources, viz., the supposed know-
ledge possessed by the parent birds of the
route from England to Africa. Once out at
sea, landmarks disappear and occasional fogs
are encountered, to say nothing of the fact
that birds on migration fly mostly at night,
resting by day or on reaching land. However,
after travelling thus for many days and nights,
and covering anything over 1,000 miles, the
party duly arrives, and from this one experi-
ence the young birds must be prepared, in six
months’ time, to retrace every mile of the way
back, for by that time they will have become
separated and lost to one another. (Most, if
not all, male warblers arrive in advance of the
females.)

If this case is insufficient to prove that it is
not parental guidance which enables young
birds to find their way to far distant climes, we
shall turn to a migrant who can learn nothing
from its parents: namely, the familiar cuckoo.

The cuckoo, with its hawk-like appearance,

TELZSTHESIA MANIFESTED IN MAN 189

is an outcast and shunned by the whole com-
munity of the feathered race. Far from tend-
ing and instructing their progeny, the parent
cuckoos leave them to take their chance of
being reared by a non-migrating species
(usually), whilst they (the parents) quit the
country some two months in advance of their
offspring (known fact). And yet these young
cuckoos, who are not gregarious and who may
be seen singly, dotted about over the country,
manage to find their way from far north
(Norway) to Africa.

Observation and memory will not account
for these performances ; but telesthesia, a
faculty of subconscious mind, covers the whole
in a nutshell.

Telesthesia—perception at a distance or
power of vision transcending time and space—
is, I believe, a subconscious faculty possessed
by animals in a high degree. For reasons
given, telesthesia, like some other subcon-
scious faculties, is but rarely manifested in
man. There are, however, authentic cases of
persons, in the trance or dream-state (when
self-conscious mind is in abeyance), having
very distinct visions of people and places with
minute details of surroundings entirely un-
known to the seer, but which afterwards have
been verified. It is needless to quote instances,

190 HOW MAN FINDS HIS WAY

for the fact of these occurrences is well known
to most people. Sufficient, therefore, that
telesthesia is a fact, and one, I think, which
goes far to solve the mystery of “homing”’;
and, moreover, it is by this means that birds,
animals and others, find their way about, and,
in the case of birds, to far-distant countries.

We have seen that birds, whether old or
young, are capable of finding their way from
Great Britain to Africa or elsewhere. But,
whereas birds do so naturally, man, having
practically no innate sense of direction, was
forced to use his intelligence in the matter of
travel and learn by experience how to find his
way about. This could only be done by
venturing a short way at first, taking mental
notes of the surroundings, and then increasing
the distances. When, however, his journey-
ings became extended it was necessary to
record observations in black and white lest
hismemory should fail him. But still, when at
sea and celestial indications were obliterated
by fog and cloudy weather, he was at a loss,
and so had to fall back on nature. He in-
vented the Magnetic Compass, a material con-
trivance, but having an index imbued with
natural power, a power of which he knew little
beyond the fact that it was infallible and un-
affected by distance. Furnished with this

NATURE LIKENED TO A VAST MACHINE ‘rg1

natural appliance, man, thenceforth, was able
to steer a true course.

The Mariner’s Compass supplied the one
thing needful when lost on a trackless waste—
a knowledge of direction.

As TI have said, nature is like a vast machine,
all of whose parts are connected and shade
imperceptibly one into another, the whole
actuated by a mainspring—All-Mind. Thus,
the Force-of-Life flows continuously through
the entire system ; but, as this machine is one
—the only one—of perpetual motion, it is
clear there can be no loss of power or waste of
any kind. As surely as the life-force circu-
lates, keeping the wheels in motion, so surely
must it come round, eventually, to the source
of emanation, as arterial life-blood returns to
the heart ; otherwise the machine would not
be one of perpetual motion, which the fact of
eternity proves that it is.

O is the emblem of eternity, and rightly,
for it has no beginning and no end. Now we
observe in nature that all her works are carried
on by a system of circles. From every point
of view there appear globes, spheres, orbits
and cycles. As an instance of nature’s cycles :
Vapour rises from the sea, condenses, falls on
the mountains, is gathered into streams, whose
waters find their way back to the ocean ; the
fe)

192 NATURE’S INVISIBLE CONNECTIONS

circuit is complete and continuous. The life-
history of animate things demonstrates the
same continuity. We have already traced the
connections which link the ovum and perfect
insect. Again, in the vegetable kingdom,
there is the seed, the gradual evolution of the
plant culminating in the flower, and seed
again, ad infinitum.

The wheels of a man-made machine cannot
revolve unless arranged in lines of connection ;
nature is the same, there can be no motion
or manifestation except the connections are
complete. But, in nature’s case, the links are
often immaterial ; there exist those invisible
connections which elude investigation.

The action of electricity, which may be said
to transcend time and space, will perhaps
illustrate my meaning. Before it can be
energized, electric force must pass along a
suitable conductor, which may be material,
such as a metal wire, or, a psycho-physical
medium (ether), as in wireless telegraphy. In
any case, connection must be made, or there
is no activity. We do not know what elec-
tricity is, but can always test it when operating
with a material medium by filling in the last
link which completes the circuit.

Telepathy and telesthesia, if not identical
with electricity, operate, I believe, in the same

BIRDS TRAVEL AT NIGHT 193

way; before results can obtain, circuitous
connection must be established. But as these
forces ply through a medium not apparent to
sense, we cannot determine the necessary
conditions.

Now, with regard to migrations, it is a well-
known fact that migrating birds travel, for the
most part, at night.!. There is a reason for this.
In the writer’s belief, migration takes place at
night because darkness (absence of sunlight) is
a condition favourable to telesthesia, in that
it strengthens the connections.

When surrounded by obscurity there is
nothing (not even landmarks) to distract the
bird’s attention ; subconscious mind, therefore,
functions uninterruptedly. But when a bright
light, such as a lighthouse, appears, the bird’s
physical eye is immediately attracted, the
migrant is drawn towards the light, and if
not shattered by coming in contact with the
structure, is, for the time being, bewildered.
The physical faculty has led to the disruption
of the psychological connection, and until the
former conditions are re-established the bird
cannot proceed on its true course ; the conse-
quence is, the unfortunate migrant batters
itself in a vain endeavour. Thus, many

11It is noteworthy that the Marconi system works better at
night than by day.

194 SEEING MENTALLY

thousands never reach the land of which, so
recently, they had a clear vision.

Though there are said to be day-dreamers
as well as night-dreamers, the normal condi-
tion of the dream state is when the eyes are
closed in darkness to the outer world and
physical life is dormant. It is then we see
mentally. This is a suggestive reflection, and
may help to explain the functioning of the
bird’s subconscious mind. I do not imply the
birds are asleep, far from it, but when pursuing
a purposeful course they act in accordance
with the only form of mentality they possess,
which is subconscious, and functions on an
astral plane. Man, as we have seen, also has
access to this plane, when the conditions are
such as to prevent the working of his self-
conscious mind.

Though birds do not lose the power (telzs-
thesia) in the presence of ordinary light (the
pigeon is evidence), I believe darkness to be
the more favourable condition.

7S

CHAPTER XXVI
MIGRATIONS

BEFORE setting out on migration, birds, the
swallow tribe for instance, begin to collect at
some point near the coast. For several days
parties of these intending migrants continue
to arrive from inland districts until a large
number has assembled. Among them may be
seen sand-martins, house-martins, and the
common swallow. Telegraph wires are often
chosen by these small-footed birds as in every
way suitable for their mass-meeting. In ser-
ried files, almost touching one another, they sit
on the wires in groups and companies, whilst
others are hawking in the neighbourhood.
Under these circumstances we have again an
opportunity for observing telepathic mind-
blending. Spontaneously, without incidental
alarm of any kind, a batch of 50 or 100 birds
is seen to quit the wires as if, literally, they
had been struck off by an electric shock'; but

1A bird perched on a telegraph wire is not affected by the
electric current ; this would only be possible in the unlikely event
of its possessing one leg long enough to touch the ground beneath,

195

196 SWALLOWS

once on the wing they separate, each pursuing
his own course in search of flies.

Swallows when feeding have no system of
linked flight, nor perhaps at any time ; swifts,
however, when not actually catering, perform
wonderful combined evolutions at extraordi-
nary speed. At these times the birds scream
for the same reason that the travelling geese
“ gabble.”

Though the swallows and martins are seen
to leave the telegraph wires simultaneously,
they come back independently and swing
themselves up one after another, or in twos
and threes, but when settled are again in
telepathic sympathy.

One day the observer returns to find the
birds gone, and concludes they must have left
the night before. This is probably the case ;
for though it may have fallen to the lot of some
to have witnessed the final departure during
the daytime, it would be exceptional, which
points to the fact that the birds are in the
habit of travelling at night.

What actually determines the psychological
moment of departure we cannot say, though
we may be sure that it is not a case of “‘ making
up their minds ”’ ; birds have no minds, in that
sense, to be made up, they cannot reason on
abstract matters. However, we can surmise

FACTORS CONTROLLING MIGRATIONS 197

that so soon as the necessary conditions are
right, connection is made when the faculty,
telesthesia, comes into operation, and the
birds, simultaneously, depart en masse.

Some maintain that the factors controlling
migrations of birds are, first and foremost, the
wind ; and secondly, the bird’s knowledge of
the way (landmarks ?). These say, that when
the wind blows cold from the north, it is a
warning to the birds, who then take flight and
are wafted in the right (southerly) direction.
The same when returning, the hot wind from
the desert brings them back; if instinct is
allowed, it is only of secondary consideration.
This view seems hardly satisfactory, for it
leaves too much to chance, whereas nature
leaves nothing to chance.

That wind is one of the conditions I have
no doubt whatever ; so are the wings of the
bird a condition—both are natural means in
aid of locomotion. But whether the wind
blows hot or cold, the bird, even if affected by
it, is not conscious of the fact; if we admit
that, it brings us again to the reasoning mind.
In my belief, cold does not affect birds ; but
what does affect them is lack of food, which is
the primary cause of migration. Swallows
sometimes arrive in extremely cold weather
and, again, leave long before the cold weather

198 WITHOUT LOSING THE WAY

sets in. Therefore I opine that neither
swallows nor any other bird of a temperate
clime suffers from cold, but starvation soon
puts an end to them.

Birds of certain species migrate in enormous
companies which take days in passing; others
travel in comparatively small lots; some-
times a mere handful is seen, and even single
individuals make their way over a trackless
sea. But none of these fly at random ; singly
or in groups, they are psychologically con-
nected up with their respective stations and
travel without ¢hought of losing their way; a
constant danger, however, is an adverse gale
of wind. When this happens the birds are
either beaten down and drowned, or forcibly
driven hundreds of miles out of their course,
when they turn up in regions quite outside of
their natural limits. The occurrence of rare
birds under these circumstances does not, of
course, entitle the visitants to be claimed as
indigenous to the countries in which they are
identified and recorded. For instance, the
Sand-Grouse (Syrraptes paradoxus), periodi-
cally noted in Great Britain, is not, and never
was, a British species.

However much encouraged and protected,
this bird does not remain permanently ; and
the same applies to many others. For this

URGE OF SUBCONSCIOUS MIND 199
reason it is practically useless to attempt to
establish a species not indigenous to the
country when that species has the means of
escaping from it ; sooner or later subconscious
mind urges the creature home, back to its
native land.

The appearance of a migration of shore-
birds flying out of sight of land over the sur-
face of the ocean, is indeed significant of the
infinite possibilities of nature, and ideally
suggests ‘‘ the Spirit of God moving upon the
face of the waters...”

CHAPTER XXVII
MR. HUTCHINSON’S ACCOUNT (‘‘ CORNHILL ”’)

REFERRING to Mr. Hutchinson’s account in
the Cornhill, ve bird migrations in connection
with the war, the Globe says:

“We have a vast collection of facts as to
when and where birds migrate, but we can
only conjecture how they accomplish their
remarkable feats. The routes pursued by
migratory birds, both in spring and autumn,
are unchanging ; they have been observed,
mapped out and recorded. But the war has
already brought great disturbance into a
region of natural life where for many years
everything has been normal. Some unusual
phenomena were observed last autumn, and,
rightly or wrongly, the changes in the habits
of various species of birds were attributed to
the war. As yet, however, it is impossible to
say definitely what has been the effect of the
war upon the autumn migration... .

“Those birds which have made several
nocturnal visits to our shores and the shores of

200

MR. HUTCHINSON’S ACCOUNT 201

other lands, must have grown accustomed to
certain definite appearances of the coast-lines ;
they will, for example, have observed the lights
of seaside towns and of lightships, and it is
assumed by ornithologists that the appear-
ances in no small measure act as guides to
the birds. But, in the place of friendly and
accustomed lights, the feathered creatures
have witnessed ‘the whole arch of heaven
swept unceasingly by the immense search-
lights ’ projected from land and sea. It is
difficult to believe that a large number of
them have not already failed to find their way
under these new conditions and strayed out of
their course to strange and perhaps unsuitable
lands. The sound of continuous cannon must
also have affected the distribution of birds,
but not until this turmoil is over shall we be
able to study the exact changes in distribu-
tion that have taken place, nor shall we know
whether those changes are permanent or only
temporary.”

That the disturbance in Northern France
and Flanders will have some temporary effect
on the distribution of birds seems inevitable.
The matter is of considerable interest to orni-
thologists, who should endeavour to trace the
wanderings of the spring migrants who, like
the unfortunate human inhabitants, will be

202 EFFECT OF THE WAR ON BIRDS

compelled to fly from the stricken area. These
human refugees have already sought shelter in
countries beyond the zone of their natural
haunts; but as these, it is to be hoped, will
shortly be repatriated, so will the birds
eventually settle down in their accustomed
places.

Note.

Owing to the publication of this book having
been delayed on account of the war, I am able
to add a note to the effect that, contrary to all
expectations, there has been xo exodus of birds
from the battlefields of France and Flanders.

An officer at the front, in an interesting
article written to The Times, March 2nd, 1916,
says: “‘ The noise and bustle of war do not
drive away the birds, not even from the
trenches, and I can remember no nesting
season which introduced more birds unknown
to me than last summer.”

The fact is, the birds, unreasoning creatures
with no free will of their own, can but obey
nature’s ruling, which is not subject to altera-
tion on account of incidental local disturbance.
Therefore, in the face of danger, of which they
know nothing, the birds keep on the same
course and frequent the same places which for
countless generations has been their custom.

BIRDS NESTING IN FACE OF TURMOIL 203

The migrants, at the appointed times, auto-
matically proceed to and fro between their
stations, outside of which they have no know-
ledge or perception. The residents, by the
same ruling, are confined to their home sur-
roundings, notwithstanding “‘the noise and
bustle of war.” If forcibly ejected, ‘“‘homing”’
instinct would infallibly bring them back.

This wouldseem the only possible explanation
accounting for the birds’ persistence in holding
their own, and actually nesting in face of the
turmoil of battle. Moreover, it is an item of
evidence which strongly supports my con-
tention, namely, that creatures do not act on
their own responsibility, but are dependent on
the ruling of subconscious mind. The evidence
is important because unique; no one could
have predicted what effect the war disturbance
would have on the birds, for never in the
world’s history has there been anything like
it from which we could form a judgment.

CHAPTER XXVIII
BIRDS IN EXISTENCE BEFORE LIGHTHOUSES

My endeavour in treating this subject has been
to show how birds and others ‘‘ accomplish
their remarkable feats,’ and if my convictions
are in the track of truth, we must conclude
that ‘definite appearances of coast-lines
shown up by the projections of light from sea-
side towns, lightships and lighthouses,” are a
hindrance rather than a guide to the birds, and
also that powerful searchlights would tend to
baffle the migrants.

It must be remembered that migrating birds
were in existence long before the erection of
lighthouses and electrically lighted towns ;
therefore, if birds were capable of finding their
way in times when the nights were unillumined
by artificial rays, it is presumable they can do
so now. For though man, in consequence of
his reasoning mind, has progressed and altered
his ways of living, birds, who have not the
same advantage, have retained their primal
habits,

204

INSPIRATION 205

Possessed of a reasoning mind over and
above his subconsciousness, man has acquired
a certain stock of knowledge; but this
acquired knowledge is superficial compared
with subconscious intelligence. Thus, what-
ever man learns or whatsoever he achieves, is
the product of his mental labour ; for, unlike
the birds, he has no accessible spontaneous
knowledge—except, in the rare cases of
inspiration, which is, in effect, upspringing
intelligence of subconscious mind. Whether
this be latent or results from extraneous in-
fluence, need not here be discussed. Under
normal conditions all knowledge must be
acquired, either by self-instruction or learned
from another.

Example : Notwithstanding that the action
of swimming is entirely different to that of
land progression, a dog swims naturally (sub-
consciously) at the first attempt; but man,
who has had every opportunity for observing
the actions of animals in the water, is, never-
theless, some time in acquiring the art—to
him it is art.

The reason for this is, of course, that the
man’s self-conscious reasoning mind, deficient
in these matters, overrules the other, the mind
that knows, with the result that he has to
learn to overcome fear conjured up by his

206 WITHOUT MENTAL EFFORT

imagination and also practise the necessary
body movements. Having learned, he relegates
the knowledge to his instinctive (subconscious)
mind and swims, like the dog, without mental
effort. In the same way, a person knits, or
plays the piano, without giving a thought to
the matter. Although I instance knitting and
playing on an instrument, these particular
accomplishments are not native to subcon-
scious mind in the way that swimming is
natural; but like all acquired knowledge, it is
possible to commit them to memory, which is
the same subconscious mind. The commit-
ment, however, is often a slow and difficult
process ; but once the knowledge is acquired
it is always there, though not always accessible,
because the connection which links the two
minds is of a subtile nature ; the ‘‘ switch,’ so
to speak, is apt to elude the grasp.

But to return to the effects of the war on
animal life. Certain nature observers in this
country have remarked on the odd behaviour
of pheasants consequent on the disturbance
now proceeding (January, 1916). Accounts
from many districts have been sent up and
recorded in the daily papers. These reports
are interesting, for though there is nothing
new in the fact that pheasant cocks crow and
beat their wings in response to distant sounds,

PHEASANTS SENSITIVE TO VIBRATIONS 207

it shows how acutely sensitive these, and
probably all birds, are to vibrations which to
the human ear are scarcely if at all perceptible.

Though we know the cause of these demon-
strations, the question is, why should the birds
be thus affected? To arrive at a possible
solution of the problem we must as usual in-
vestigate the habits and character of the
species. To begin with, we note that many
birds of the gallinaceous order are polyga-
mous: to wit, domestic fowls, pea-fowl, tur-
keys, black-game, etc., including pheasants.
The male bird in all these cases is distinctly
and distinguishably ‘‘cock of the walk.”
Paramount and supreme in his own run, the
cock pheasant must needs live up to his
reputation, nemo me impune lacessit, otherwise
he will surely be deposed by one more valiant
in the eyes of the female following. Naturally
fierce and combative, the bird is ever on the
gut vive and ready to tackle the first intruder
who dares venture within his precincts ; any
overstepping of the boundary is the prelude
to a fight. But, as a rule, the cocks, warned
by the challenges heard in various directions,
keep to their own ground. This perpetual
“crowing,” accompanied by “ wing-drum-
ming,’ is a natural provision and a very
effective one, for it results in keeping the
P

208 “CROWING” A SUBCONSCIOUS ACT
parties at a safe distance from one another,
which is exactly nature’s intent.

The “‘crowing’”’ is a subconscious act ;
metaphorically, a small but important “ cog-
wheel” in nature’s machinery which ensures
the proper working of the system. The
movement might be described as a recipro-
cating arrangement. In plain words, the
cock pheasant is so “strung” as to “‘go off”
instantly on the impact of the sonorous vi-
brations set up by the “ drumming ”’ of his
rivals, in the same way as a sounding note
causes another of the same quality to rever-
berate in sympathy.

It is no stretch of the imagination, there-
fore, to believe that the distant booming of
cannon, thunder and such-like sounds, have
precisely the same effect on the birds, always
accepting the premise, viz., that the said
“ drumming ”’ is an automatic manifestation.

This view of the matter, to my mind, is con-
firmed by the fact that the pheasant (or
turkey) ejaculates guickery than a human being
can exclaim after hearing a sound. In the
bird’s case there is no after, the ejaculation is
coincident with the sound. A general clamour
continues for some time afterwards, but that
is due to the cocks answering one another,
independently.

A

ERECTILE EAR-COVERS 209

Incidentally, it should be noted that pheas-
ant cocks are furnished with erectile opercula
(ear-covers). That these are specially adapted
for intercepting and concentrating sound vi-
brations, there can be little doubt.

CHAPTER XXIX
TESTING THE PROPOSITION

In writing of the subconscious mind in the
Animal World, as it appears to me, I have
described the acts of a variety of creatures
belonging to widely separated classes in order
to test the proposition from different aspects.
In each case the evidence submitted tends
strongly to prove the correctness of the thesis.

The old, and generally accepted idea,
namely, that animals perform “‘ their remark-
able feats’’ by a process of reasoning (the
pigeon taking notes of “the hills and the
valleys ”’ is typical of this belief), stands no
testing whatever, it breaks down at every
point ; but if we believe that subconscious
mind is integral of All-Mind, which is my con-
tention, the “‘feats’’ of animals are not so
‘“‘remarkable’’ as absolutely natural.

In attributing infallibility to subconscious
mind, it is because a close study of nature
has convinced me that such is the truth.
The manifestations of subconscious mind are

210

INFALLIBILITY 2II

apparent, not only in the actions of animals,
but in all natural phenomena: such as the
movements of the sun and planets in their
orbits ; the ebb and flow of tides ; the regular
succession of the seasons, etc. All these hap-
penings are governed by the same unerring
intelligence.

The idea of infallibility is difficult to realize
because of the limitations of the self-conscious
reasoning mind, which fails to grasp what is
beyond personal experience.

“ Nature in her Divine purity ”’ knows with-
out reasoning, therefore in pure nature all
works well and harmoniously; there is no
evil, consequently no sin. What impurities
exist arise from want of knowledge in the
reasoning mind and so filter through to nature.
The fallible reasoning mind is inconstant ;
intuition and reason are at variance, hence
discord and strife. But this opens out a large
subject. In the meantime, it may be taken
that until the human mind has attained to
super-consciousness and is at one with the
Infinite, impurities must apparently contami-
nate nature in many directions. Nevertheless,
impurity is not a truly natural condition.

Too long have we been following in the old
tracks ; so worn are they, indeed, as to have
become positively ruts out of which it is

212 NATURE AND MAN

difficult to flounder. The line I have traced
in this paper may indicate a path affording
firmer footing. The highway to truth is
assuredly in the study of natural history; na-
ture’s open book contains all we would know,
could we but clearly decipher the language in
which it is written.

Though it is true there are many more
nature students to-day than existed, say,
fifty years ago, and more accurate knowledge
obtainable, still, the majority does not seem to
realize the grave importance of this study.
The world, in fact, is too busy to give heed to
life functioning on a lower plane, notwith-
standing that the knowledge intimately con-
cerns humanity at large. Nevertheless, it will
be noted that in arts and invention, science,
in doubt or difficulty, invariably has to fall
back upon nature.

Example: In course of development, flying
machines are assuming more and more the
bird-like form and poise, even to the upturned
tip of the wing (Taube), which in some species
of birds is more or less flexible. Eventually, I
believe, the monoplane will supersede all other
designs of aircraft, because truer to nature,
who already has the perfect model. And yet,
withal, we speak of ‘‘ improving on nature.”’
But this is impossible ; the most we can do is

ALL-MIND 213

to assist nature by eliminating detrimental
factors and substituting those of a helpful
character; but it is Nature herself who, taking
advantage of the more favourable conditions,
expends her surplus energy (Force-of-Life) in
modifying the original type.

Nature can learn nothing from man, who is
part of herself, but man can and will acquire
from nature such knowledge as will eventually
lead him to a real understanding of the meaning

of lafe.

The more we study nature the more surely
we realize that all her parts are linked together
and moved by the One Spirit—ALL-MInD.

To quote Pope’s admirable couplet, which
refers to that—

: “stupendous whole,
Whose body nature is and God the soul.”

INDEX

A
Aeroplane, 62.

Aestivation, 163.
Addled egg, 56-8.

Antics, 98.

Antenne, 24, 94.

Ants, 27.

Aquatic-birds, roo.
B

Baits, 171.

Bees, 176.

Birds’ nests, 40.
Birds’ eggs, 49.
Birds’ flight, 62.
Birds’ in connection with the
war, 200.
Birds’ sight, 121.
Birds’ songs, 93.
Blackbird, 40.
Black-headed gull, 73.
Bombylius, 88.
Buff-tip, 37.

Cc

Cabbage-white, 8.
Coleoptera, 87.
Concealers, 99.
Corncrake, 97.
Crowned hornbill, 42.
Crowing, 206.
Cuckoo, 188.

Curlew, 100.

Cyclic system, IgI.

D

Dog, scenting, 4.
Dog, swimming, 205.

Disease, 120.
Doves, 46.
Drumming, 207.
Duck-decoy, 146.
Dunilin, 107.

E

Eel, 136.

Eggar moth, 37.
Elephant, 148.
Emperor-moth, 17.
Equilibrium, 123.
Ermine moth, 38
Exposers, 99.

F

Fabre (French naturalist), 34.
Firewood-gatherer, 47.
Flight, 77.

Freaks, 120.

Frogs, 134.

G

Geese, 105.

Golden plover, 106.
Golden oriole, 45.
Golden-crested wren, 45.
Gordius aquaticus, 136.
Green woodpecker, 83.
Group-souls, 28.
Grouse, packing, I12.
Guillemot, 52.

H

Hawk-moths, go.
Hedge-sparrow, 50.

215

216 INDEX

Heron, 72. Partridges, 110, 84.
Homing, 133, 203. Pensile nests, 45.
Horse, 148. Pheasants, 206.
Hover-fly, 88. Pied-flycatcher, 56.
Humble bee, 184. Pigeons, racing, 126.
Humming-bird, 88. Pigeons, homing, 126.
Humming-bird moth, 87. Pigeons, training, 131.
Hybrids, 142. Polygamous birds, 207.
Prawn, 172.
I Prismatic mirror, 153.
Processionary caterpillars, 29.
Ichneumons, 14, 22. Protections, 99.
Insect-flight, 86. Puss-moth, 14.
Instrumental music, 94.
J Q
. Quail, 110.
Jack-snipe, 93. Queen bee, 176.
“ Jock Scott,” 158, 161.
R
K Rhyssa persuasoria, 20.
Robin, 123.
Belt, 170. Rooks, 108.
E s

Laggards, 111.
Leaders, 1o1, 102.
Life-principle, 25.
Lighthouse, 193.
Long-tailed tit, 44.

Sand-grouse, 198.
Salmon, 155.
Salmon flies, 157.
Saw-flies, 38,
Sheep, 113.
Silken thread, 36.
M Sirex, 21.
: kylarks, 153.
DISE PIs As eae ae
Magnetic compass, 190. Snipe, bleating 95
Melita aurinia, 37. Sound. ao
Mind-blending, 26, 28. Ounes,: 92

ee Sounding-board, 95.

Souls of animals, 25.

re) Spider’s web, 33.
ee Stampede, I15.
Ovipositor, 20, 22. Swallows, migration of, 195.
Oxygen, 163. Swans, 65, 69.
P T
Panic, 115. Telzsthesia, 133, 187, 197.

Parthenogenesis, 19. Telepathy, 1, 29, 69, 178.

INDEX 217

Thrush, 119. Ww
Toads, 134.

Trout, 139, 155.

Trout, white-trout, 141.
Trout, slob-trout, 141.

Water-divining, 2.
Water ouzel, 42.
Warning colours, 99, 158.
Wasps, 186.

White admiral, 10.
Whitethroat, 40.
Wild-duck, mallard, 99.
Vv Willow-warbler, 187.
Wood-warbler, 41.
Woodcock, 78, 122.
V-shape form of flight, 102. Woodpeckers, 83.
Valve principle, 77. Worm, 171.

GARDEN CITY PRESS LIMITED, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH, ENGLAND.