393 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



lark, the linnet, the curlew, the plover, the lapwing, and the bittern. 

 Quite a number of birds announce the coming of rain ; for instance, the 

 magpie, the owl, the yellow thrush, and the greenfinch. This is also 

 done by means of peculiar notes which they never sound on other 

 occasions. Nicolardot has essayed to reproduce these notes by letters. 

 There also are storm-birds, so-called procellaria, which in a similar 

 manner — that is to say, by the use of certain peculiar sounds — predict 

 the coming of a storm, even a long time in advance. Domestic fowl 

 are often watchful for strangers ; especially is this the case with pea- 

 cocks, who are pretty sure to announce by cries the approach of stran- 

 gers to house or farm. 



Birds thus can feel and announce the coming of rain and storm, 

 and already the ancients ascribed to them the faculty of prediction. 

 In their flight and in their voices indications of coming events were 

 sought. The augurs of old had established a whole science of the 

 flight and the voices of birds. Nor is it improbable that training was 

 resorted to, to aid in procuring such predictions — that is to say, to cre- 

 ate favorable or unfavorable omens, whichever might happen to best 

 suit the plans of the priests at the time. 



Louis Napoleon, in our nineteenth century, intended to convince 

 the French people, by the aid of a trained eagle which was to have 

 alighted on his head at the right moment, that he was the predestined 

 successor to his great uncle. Nicolardot does not go quite so far as 

 the augurs of the ancients, but he also ascribes to birds a prescience 

 of coming events, especially of approaching misfortune, to which feel- 

 ing they lend expression by certain peculiar sounds. As an example 

 he cites a tale from O'Meara's " Voice from St. Helena." When the 

 French entered Moscow, this author relates, a great flock of ravens 

 came and settled on the towers of the Kremlin. From there these 

 birds, to which the ancients ascribed great sagacity, came flying down 

 close to the heads of the soldiers, flapped their wings, and kept up a 

 continuous, monotonous croaking. The troops were much disheart- 

 ened by this occurrence, and feared misfortune. Shortly before the 

 terrible conflagration broke out, all the ravens had disappeared, flying 

 away in great numbers. 



Napoleon I paid considerable attention to the voices of animals. 

 O'Meara cites the following from a conversation of the emperor's : 

 " How can we know that the animals have not a language of their 

 own? Does it not seem to be very presuming on our part to deny the 

 existence of such a language, simply because we do not understand it ? 

 We know that a horse has a memory, that it can make distinctions, 

 that it shows antipathy and sympathy ; it knows its master, and can 

 tell him from the servants, although it sees the master but rarely, and 

 has the grooms for company throughout the day." The emperor related 

 that he had once owned a horse which always succeeded in finding 

 him even when he had hidden among other people. This animal 



