The more I reflect on the natural affection of 

 animals, the more I am astonished at its effects. 

 Nor is the violence of its affection more wonderful 

 than the shortness of its duration. 



This affection sublimes the passions, quickens the invention, and 

 sharpens the sagacity of the brute creation. 



Thus an hen, just become a mother, is no longer that placid bird 

 she used to be ; but, with feathers standing on end, wings hovering, 

 and clucking note, she runs about like one possessed. 



Dams will throw themselves in the way of the greatest danger 

 in order to avert it from their progeny. 



Thus a partridge will tumble along before a sportsman in order 

 to draw away the dogs from her helpless covey. 



In the time of nesting, the most feeble birds will assault the most 

 rapacious. All the swallows of a village are up in arms at the 

 sight of an hawk, whom they will persecute till he leaves that 

 district. 



A very exact observer has often remarked, that a pair of ravens, 

 nesting in the rock of Gibraltar, would suffer no vulture or eagle to 

 rest near their station, but would drive them from the hill with an 

 amazing fury; even the blue-thrush, at the season of breeding, 

 would dart out from the clefts of the rocks to chase away the 

 kestrel or the sparrow-hawk. 



If you stand near the nest of a bird that has young, she will not be 

 induced to betray them by an inadvertent fondness, but will wait 

 about at a distance, with meat in her mouth, for an hour together. 



G. W. 



