MIGRATIONS OF WATERFOWL 



ments, books, maps, all have modified the problem of human orientation, 

 but there is always the awareness of and the inborn hunger for home. 



Man is impressed by the superiority of his intelligence to that of birds 

 and mammals; and yet this homeward orientation — which had to be effi- 

 cient in the dark, unknown ages before man began his climb up the intel- 

 lectual ladder — may still be at a primitive level. However much we have 

 learned to improve our homes and the trails leading there, the organization 

 of our activities relative to home is apparently very close to the homing 

 behavior of the lower animals. At dusk the bird flies home, the dog trots 

 home, and the man drives home, perhaps listening to the radio all the 

 way. Wherein lies the essential difference? 



In man, orientation on his home range is fundamental. Surely such 

 behavior must have developed early in his evolution ; and upon this ability 

 to find his way about is built the higher level of activity upon which civi- 

 lized behavior is established, both in the evolutionary scale for the human 

 race, and in the life story of each individual. 



For the bird the satisfaction of innate hungers is life itself — but no less 

 or more so than for man. And at this level of behavior where movement 

 in space assists in the satisfaction of innate appetites, man and bird have 

 much in common. To study the homing behavior of one is inevitably to 

 learn something of the other. 



Instead of a "sense of direction" in man, there appears to be an aware- 

 ness of direction. This does not result from the funption of one sense but is 

 probably a product of all the sensory apparatus, with the eyes, no doubt, 

 most important. This awareness exists without the requirement for a 

 knowledge of its existence; it functions as long as a man maintains con- 

 tinuity with his environment. It ceases to have reality the instant the pres- 

 ent is disconnected from the past; then a man is lost. Awareness of direction 

 is thus not inborn but hinges on personal experience with the environment. 



In birds there appears to be a similar awareness of direction, effective 

 as long as the continuity of life's flow remains unbroken, ineffective when 

 the continuous sensory contact with the surroundings is disrupted and the 

 bird is displaced from all environmental cues. In birds and in men the sun 

 is the basic cue to orientation. In local travel it serves as a guide to direc- 

 tion; beyond a certain point from home, changes in its position and its 

 time may be cues to the direction of home. In the absence of the sun, man 

 and bird must read their position in terms of the world about them, wan- 

 dering if displaced from familiar surroundings. 



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