368 THE SENSE OF SMELL IN BIRDS. 



Moreover, they hear their note of recall at great distances, and 

 everybody who has observed them at liberty must agree that in their 

 notes, which appear to us so uniform, there are nevertheless differ- 

 ences which escape our ears, and which for them constitute a sort of 

 language to apprise each other of danger. 



My observations show that the sense of smell is also highly devel- 

 oped among birds, and that it not only puts them upon their guard 

 against danger, but also directs them in the choice of food which they 

 would be unable to recognize by sight. 



The majority of wild mauuuals take care to snuff' the air as thev go 

 about, so as to collect any emanations which might reveal the presence 

 of an enemy. Their nostrils are as wide open as their ears. It is easy 

 to show this by experiment whenever one happens to be in the neigh- 

 borhood of a wood inhabited by rabbits and hares. The most favor- 

 able season is in the early part of September, an hour before sunset. 

 This is the time when these animals come out to go to pasture, the 

 hares farther from the wood, the rabbits only on its skirts. If at 

 such a time you station yourself as silently as possible in the middle 

 of the length of the border of the wood, well concealed in the thorny 

 ditch that commonly limits it, you will soon be al)le to judge of the 

 effect your presence has. On the windward side the rabbits will come 

 out without suspecting anything, often to within a few 3'ards of you, 

 while on the leeward side you will not see a single one, and so it will 

 be until you change your pl^ce. Every poacher is perfectly aware 

 that, above all, he must beware of the Hair of the game, and when he 

 recognizes the passage of a hare or roe he chooses his place so as to 

 have the wind, or, in other words, so that the animal shall come out 

 in the quarter whence the wind blows. 



Now this equally applies to pheasants and partridges; that is to say, 

 to birds who spend the da}^ on the ground and only occasionally resort 

 to flight. They are rendered equally distrustful by scent. One can 

 readily convince oneself of this by waiting for them at the hours of 

 the day when the pheasants come out of the wood to feed in the open, 

 and in the evening when the partridges quit the covers, where they 

 have taken refuge from pursuit. Neither the one species nor the other 

 will show themselves on the side where the wind will enable them to 

 scent your presence. 



Ringdoves have furnished me with a not less characteristic example. 

 The observation dates from February, 1888, during which month the 

 ground remained covered with a thick layer of snow. The consequence 

 was that these birds, being famished, approached the houses to try to 

 get Brussels sprouts, which are almost their only food in hard winters. 

 A flock of some thirty of them remained about my vegetable garden, 

 where the}^ lighted several times a day on a bed of these Brussels 

 sprout plants. Being tempted to take a few shots at them, I set up a 



