1 32 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



field goes to prove that the current notions are in accordance with fact. 

 We have seen that chickens follow the call of their mother before they 

 have had any opportunity of associating that sound with pleasurable 

 feelings; and one or two observations, which must be taken for what 

 they are worth, support the general opinion that they have an equally 

 instinctive dread of their more deadly enemies. When twelve days 

 old one of my little proteges, while running about beside me, gave the 

 peculiar chirr whereby they announce the approach of danger. I looked 

 up, and behold a sparrow-hawk was hovering at a great height over 

 head. Having subsequently procured a young hawk, able to take only 

 short flights, I made it fly over a hen with her first brood, then about a 

 week old. In the twinkling of an eye most of the chickens were hid 

 among grass and bushes. The hen pursued, and scarcely had the hawk 

 touched the ground, about twelve yards from where she had been sitting, 

 when she fell upon it with such fury that it was with difficulty that I 

 was able to rescue it from immediate death. Equally striking was the 

 effect of the hawk's voice when heard for the first time. A young 

 turkey, which I had adopted when chirping within the uncracked shell, 

 was on the morning of the tenth day of its life eating a comfortable 

 breakfast from my hand, when the young hawk, in a cupboard just 

 beside us, gave a shrill chip, chip, chip. Like an arrow the poor turkey 

 shot to the other side of the room, and stood there motionless and 

 dumb with fear, until the hawk gave a second cry, when it darted out at 

 the open door right to the extreme end of the passage, and there, 

 silent and crouched in a corner, remained for ten minutes. Several 

 times during the course of that day it again heard these alarming 

 sounds, and in every instance with similar manifestations of fear. 

 Unfortunately, my hawk coming to an untimely end, I was prevented 

 from proceeding with observations of this class. But these few were so 

 marked and unmistakable in their character that I have thought them 

 worth recording. 



There are instincts, however, yet to be mentioned, concerning the 

 reality of which I have thoroughly satisfied myself. The early atten- 

 tion that chickens give to their toilet is a very useful instinct, about 

 which there can be no question. Scores of times I have seen them 

 attempt to dress their wings when only a few hours old — indeed as soon 

 as they could hold up their heads, and even when denied the use of 

 their eyes. The art of scraping in search of food, which, if anything, 

 might be acquired by imitation — for a hen with chickens spends the half 

 of her time in scratching for them — is nevertheless another indisputable 

 case of instinct. Without any opportunities of imitation, when kept 

 quite isolated from their kind, chickens began to scrape when from two 

 to six days old. Generally, the condition of the ground was suggestive; 

 but I have several times seen the first attempt, which consists of a sort 



