60 BIRDS AND POETS 
must have been, and doubtless was, an actual flight 
under water, and half as fast as the crow flies in 
the air. 
The loon would have delighted the old poets. 
Its wild, demoniac laughter awakens the echoes on 
the solitary lakes, and its ferity and hardiness are 
kindred to those robust spirits. 
XIT 
One notable difference between man and the four- 
footed animals which has often occurred to me is 
in the eye, and the greater perfection, or rather su- 
premacy, of the sense of sight in the human species. 
All the animals — the dog, the fox, wolf, deer, cow, 
horse, etc..— depend mainly upon the senses of hear- 
ing and smell. © Almost their entire powers of dis- 
crimination are confined to these two senses. The 
dog picks his master out of the crowd by smell, and 
the cow her calf out of the herd. Sight is only 
partial recognition. The question can only be set- 
tled beyond all doubt by the aid of the nose. The 
fox, alert and cunning as he is, will pass within a 
few yards of the hunter and not know him from 
astump. A squirrel will run across your lap, and a 
marmot between your feet, if you are motionless. 
When a herd of cattle see a strange object, they are 
not satisfied till each one has sniffed it; and the 
horse is cured of his fright at the robe, or the meal- 
bag, or other object, as soon as he can be induced 
to smell it. There is a great deal of speculation in 
the eye of an animal, but very little science. Then 
