340 ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 



night, and in a few more weeks it also learnt to retrieve. 

 Her scent was exceedingly good, and she stood- well at par- 

 tridges, black game, pheasants, snipes, and rabbits, but 

 never pointed hares. She was more useful than a dog, 

 and afterwards became the property of Sir Henry Mild- 

 may. According to Youatt, 1 Colonel Thornton also had a 

 sow similarly trained. The same author says that a sow 

 belonging to Mr. Craven had a litter of pigs, one of which, 

 when old enough, was taken and roasted, then a second 

 and a third. These were necessarily taken when the 

 mother returned in the evening from the woods for supper. 

 But the next time she came she was alone, and, ' as her 

 owners were anxious to know what was become of her 

 brood, she was watched on the following evening, and 

 observed driving back her pigs at the extremity of the 

 wood, with much earnest grunting, while she went off to 

 the house, leaving them to wait for her return. It was 

 evident that she had noticed the diminution of her family, 

 and had adopted this method to save those that re- 

 mained.' 2 



Mr. Stephen Harding sends me the following as an 

 observation of his own : 



On the 15th ult. (Nov. 1879) I saw an intelligent sow pig 

 about twelve months old, running in an orchard, going to a young 

 apple tree and shaking it, pricking up her ears at the same 

 time, as if to listen to hear the apples fall. She then picked 

 the apples up and ate them. After they were all down she 

 shook the tree again and listened, but as there were no more 

 to fall she went away. 



The proverbial indifference to dirt attributed to the 

 pig seems scarcely to be justified ; the worst that can be 

 said is that the animal prefers cool mud to dry heat, and 

 the filth which swine often exhibit in their sty is the 

 fault of the farmers rather than of the animals. Or, 

 to quote from Thompson's ' Passions,' 



A washed sow in the hot season of our temperate climate, 

 and in almost every season of such a climate as that of Pales- 

 tine, ' returns to her wallowing in the mire ' simply because 

 she feels scorched, and blistered, and sickened under the ardent 



1 On the Pig, p. 1 7. * Ibid. 



