108 THE WILD-FOWLER. 



which hear it. Who has not heard and seen the mother of her 

 hrood suddenly utter a strange, and to human ear unmeaning, croak ? 

 when, young- and powerless as her fledglings may he, they instantly 

 take heed and, each turning one of their tiny eyes up towards the 

 sky, as directed by their mother, they behold the threatening attitude 

 of a hovering hawk, which their ever-watchful parent by that single 

 note had given them to understand, once and for ever, was a dan- 

 gerous enemy 5 and, though the first and only occasion in their fleeting 

 lives that they may hear the warning, still it is never forgotten. 



The wild-duck, when suspicious as to the security of her brood, 

 and whilst danger threatens, gives a warning which is instantly 

 obeyed ; and every duckling disappears from the surface. Let those 

 who think and conclude there is no meaning in the language of the 

 feathered tribe, recall to memory such sharp intelligence in fledglings 

 but a few days old ; and wonder more and more how instinct should 

 so early have taught the young their parent-language. 



So the old bird calls her young, encourages, cautions, and consoles 

 them, all by different notes, as distinct, and even more so, than can 

 be expressed by multitude of words, in human language. 



What is it that teaches the chicken to turn from a wasp or bee 

 with a shudder of alarm, and note of warning ? The same instinct 

 which tells the chicken it may itself be stung, induces it to caution 

 its companions to avoid the threatening pain. What is it that makes 

 the captive bird, when rudely grasped, utter a shriek of anguish, 

 too palpable for the veriest child to mistake for any other passion ? 

 Is it not the same instinct by which all living creatures (of which 

 mankind is but one) express their feelings when in captivity or pain ? 

 A chicken may be nursed and fondled by human hand in the pre- 

 sence of its mother ; but let it be ill-used, and utter only one note of 

 pain, the mother rushes instantly to its rescue, in fretful attitude, and 

 with fierce expression. 



Then who can reflect on facts and scenes like these, and say there 

 is no meaning in the language of birds? Who would not rather 

 exclaim with Aristophanes : 



" One question answer in the fewest words, 

 What sort of life is it amongst the birds" ? 



With what remarkable instinct does the parent-bird of such species 

 as are hatched on the ground, and run almost as soon as out of the 

 shell, attempt, by various stratagems, to draw the attention of any 



