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SCIENCE. 



[Vol. XX. No. 499 



from lack of the faculty in question. Thus I have a friend 

 with whom I have hunted on several vacation trips to the 

 Rocky Mountains. He has an excellent education and a 

 memory far better than the average, but is utterly unable to 

 spell. He is the only man with whom I ever hunted who 

 was afraid to hunt alone in a strange country for fear of get- 

 ting lost. I have often been struck, in other matters, with 

 his same deficiency in this direction. Thus, when we hunt 

 together, he scarcely ever sees the game Srst, although when 

 discovered at a distance, he is immeasurably my superior in 

 determining what class of game it is, if so far off as to ren- 

 der this a matter of doubt. 



This example I may count as the first point in establishing 

 our first proposition. Next to observers poor by nature, we 

 might place those who lack experience, as those who have 

 always dwelt in cities. Of course the great majority of 

 these acquire proficiency by practice. Shortsighted persons 

 who do not correct their myopia by the use of glasses come 

 under the same head, for, being unable to observe their sur- 

 roundings, they are very prone to become lost. Fortunately 

 this disease is comparatively rare in primitive races, natural 

 salection, no doubt, contributing to render it so, for it is 

 vastly more common in civilization. 



Among the female inhabitants of towns and cities the 

 faculty in question has had no opportunity for development 

 for many generations, perhaps. They ordinarily have a very 

 poor "sense of direction." I have yet to see a woman from 

 civilized life who could be trusted to point out the way 

 across a pathless region of any considerable extent. 



Second, good observers do not readily lose their way. My 

 experience in this regard has been largely with two classes 

 of men, hunters and cowboys. Men of either of these classes, 

 to be even moderately successful, must be the closest of ob- 

 servers. The appearance of a man or an animal anywhere 

 within the circle of vision is ordinarily noted at once. The 

 habit of seeing what lies before one, a thing not given to us 

 all, is formed. With men who travel much alone, the ex- 

 ercise of this faculty fills the gap left by the lack of oppor- 

 tunity for conversation. It gives the mind a certain amount 

 of exercise. The Mexican sheep-herder who is alone on his 

 range will tell you, a week after, who has passed by, what 

 kind of a horse he rode, whether a colt followed a certain 

 wagon the trail of which he has seen, and other details that 

 surprise one not accustomed to such matters. The cowboy 

 who rides a hundred miles across country will tell you the 

 brand of every stray steer he has seen. These men, realiz- 

 ing that they are dependent upon their own exertions for 

 safety, unconsciously develop those faculties of service to 

 them. Other men, placed in similar positions, develop in 

 the same manner, as trappers, explorers, and scouts. Think, 

 for instance, what chance there would be of a trapper's get- 

 ting lost when he is able to place fifty traps in a new region 

 and find them all without efi'ort. Here his memory is, of 

 course, of as much importance to him as his close attention 

 to his surroundings. 



Our third proposition is, thai even those who are ordi- 

 narily entirely competent to find their way get lost easily in 

 darkness, fog, or snowstorms, and especially if interested in 

 something which thoroughly occupies the mind. This I 

 believe to be utterly inconsistent with the theory of a proper 

 '■ sense of direction." Examples are, no doubt, familiar to 

 all, but I will quote one from my own experience, which to 

 me is conclusive. I have for years been in the habit of 

 hunting alone in my vacation trips, upon the plains as well 

 as in the mountains, and have travelled much in unsettled 



districts, both night and day. Realizing the possibility of 

 getting caught in a snowstorm, I have made it a rule to 

 carry a pocket compass as well as a waterproof match-safe 

 at all times. For eight years I never had occasion to use 

 the compass to learn my position, and I almost believed I 

 was infallible so far as the question of getting lost, in day- 

 light at least, was concerned. But the undeceiving came, 

 and it was that which led me to this study of the subject. 

 One fine September day I started out from camp on a deer- 

 hunt. We were in the part of Wyoming between the head- 

 waters of Savory and Jack Creeks, about two miles from 

 that portion of the Continental Divide which lies between 

 them. 



Within half a mile of camp I struck a deer trail and fol- 

 lowed it. I pursued it for two or three miles, mostly 

 through heavy timber, without seeing any signs of game, 

 although momentarily expecting to do so. When I finally 

 stopped for a moment, it had begun to rain, and the dense 

 clouds shut in every hilltop. I could see nothing to indi- 

 cate the position of the sun, and there was not a breath of 

 wind. The rain increasing, I decided to start for home, 

 and, turning farther to the right, followed, as I supposed, a 

 tributary of Jack Creek down into the valley. What was 

 my consternation to find that the creek into which it led 

 flowed to the right instead of to the left as Jack Creek 

 should do! Every thing was unfamiliar. I had crossed no 

 ridge, to my knowledge, high enough for the Divide; I was 

 dumbfounded. I knew, however, that I was upon the wes- 

 terly side of Jack Creek, for I had crossed no stream of any 

 description. In two hours I could not possibly have walked 

 far enough up or down to cause me to miss it if I adopted 

 an easterly course. The difficulty was in the fact that I had 

 supposed that I had been following such a course in arriving 

 at my present position. As the mist and rain now shut in 

 every thing, I had nothing to do but to complete my humilia- 

 tion by a forced resort to the compass, for I had to admit for 

 the first time that I was lost. At first sight I was tempted 

 to believe that the needle was wrong, as I am told all men 

 in similar position are. I carried the compass to some dis- 

 tance from my rifle, fearing that the needle was deflected 

 by the metallic barrel. The result was the same. Fearing 

 that I had found a body of iron ore by accident, I tried va- 

 rious localities, but the needle still persisted in pointing, as 

 it seemed to me, south. After a few moments' considera- 

 tion I started over a ridge a little to the right of the way I 

 had come, and due east by compass. I still felt that I was 

 going west, and could not get over the idea. A tramp of 

 half an hourbrought me within sight of the valley I sought, 

 and north seemed to come around where it should have been 

 all the time. I had unconsciously crossed the Divide at its 

 lowest point, far lower than the one at which I now crossed, 

 evidently having made an entire turn when starting home- 

 ward instead of a half one as I had intended. I now 

 made a bee-line for camp, but I carried home with me less 

 faith in my "sense of direction" than I had upon starting 

 out. 



I might quote from the experience of others a dozen simi- 

 lar examples of losing one's way. Some seven or eight men 

 have been more or less severely frozen in this very county, 

 by losing their correct route. I believe that further exam- 

 ples are unnecessary. It is sufficient for me to say, in con- 

 clusion, that, whatever instincts man may have had in a 

 former state, he has at present no means of finding his way 

 at all resembling that possessed by birds and animals. 



sterling, Col. 



