94 



IN WINTER. 



than 116 yards when the weasel caught the 

 sound of his approach. Is it any wonder, then, 

 that the woods seem silent as we saunter careless- 

 ly along ? 



The question now arises, Can any animal dis- 

 tinguish between the sounds of the footsteps of 

 our many wild and domestic animals ? Can any 

 one of them recognize the difference between the 

 steps of a man, fox, cow, or rat ? Now, a weasel, 

 for instance, would not fear a cow or a sheep, 

 but would flee ordinarily from a man or a dog, 

 and so such power of discrimination would be 

 very useful to it. I am positive that they can 

 distinguish, in the manner pointed out, between 

 friend and foe, and so are not required to seek 

 safety at every unusual sound. I know that the 

 most dolorous screeching made by branches 

 rubbing together whenever the wind blew had 

 no terror for squirrels or rabbits, yet they must 

 have trembled when they first heard it ; I remem- 

 ber very well that I did. That fish can recognize 

 the approach of a man and will hide, and yet pay 

 not the slightest attention to galloping horses or 

 tramping cattle that come near, is well known ; 

 and I can see no reason to deny a like discrimi- 

 nating ability to those animals whose very exist- 

 ence depends upon it. The fact that such a 

 power is the mainspring of their safety is of it- 

 self a warrant for our belief that they possess it. 



