6o SCENT IN DEER AND DOG 



exhausted, as it usually is in a quiet atmosphere. The 

 sense ordinarily becomes tired so soon that we are 

 annoyed with our olfactories for serving us so badly. 

 In a wind the scent comes in gusts, and however 

 fragrant it may be, there is little or no diminution in 

 the effect produced. 



I suppose the explanation would be that the nerves 

 of smell and the liquid covering them are agitated by 

 the wind, and that in this condition the scent particles 

 are more rapidly and thoroughly dissolved, and so 

 have a greater stimulating power than at other times. 



When watching the hind in Richmond Park I 

 thought with admiration of the exquisite perfection 

 of the three most important senses in a wild animal's 

 life — vision, hearing and smell. The dog, with a 

 horizon limited to about a third of a stag's, is a com- 

 paratively dim-eyed creature; he lives, as we see, 

 mainly in the sense of smell. This is astonishingly 

 acute, but that of the deer is just as perfect with 

 regard to its use or purpose, which is chiefly to inform 

 it of distant or hidden dangers to be escaped only 

 by flight. The dog's smell is concerned with number- 

 less little matters that are of less account; these 

 constitute his entertainment and give a perpetual 

 zest to his life. He quarters and examines the ground 

 with his nose to find it abundantly sprinkled over, 

 so to speak, with the visiting cards of other creatures 

 — other dogs, some known personally to him, others 

 strangers; also rabbits, rats, voles, and what not. 

 The deer is not concerned in these minute matters; 



