240 What Birds Have Done With Me 



supposed to separate us from our little brothers of 

 the field and forest. The word instinct is a blan- 

 ket term covering a world of ignorance. When a 

 toothless old man soaks his crust in his coffee, the 

 act is prompted by reason ; when a duck, that has 

 only rudimentary salivary glands carries a hard 

 crust some little distance to soak it in water, it 

 acts from instinct. A man through local attach- 

 ment prompted by reason, may travel across a con- 

 tinent to get back to the place of his birth ; but a 

 wild duck, hatched in an incubator, may have 

 the same kind of local attachment, prompting it to 

 leave a body of water, its native element, and cross 

 a busy street that it might again enjoy a familiar 

 environment in close contact with human crea- 

 tures, the barrier of fear having been broken 

 down. Instinct is a great matter for it enabled 

 the wild ducks, spoken of above, to find their way 

 back over a road that they had never seen, over 

 which a man with all his reason might have wan- 

 dered and lost his way. It is said of man that 

 "Joy and grief and hope and fear alternate tri- 

 umph in his breast," as though these were the 

 distinguishing qualities of the great gift of rea- 

 son, but as a matter of fact, dumb creatures, with 

 only instinct for a guide, are not strangers to like 

 emotions. True religion and undefiled is in a 

 recognition of the inestimable value of life, that 

 the highest and lowest hold in common, something 



