148 HOMING BIRDS 



say, the sense of direction is more nearly infallible 

 than in mammals. Thus, you will see a basketful 

 of homing pigeons released at the Marble Arch, the 

 birds aU flying off in various directions to their homes 

 in different parts of the country, from twenty or 

 thirty to a couple of a hundred miles distant; and 

 the chances are that not one out of twenty-five or 

 thirty wUl fail to turn up at its destination. As the 

 pigeon has existed in a domestic state for thousands 

 of generations, it may be assumed that its homing 

 faculty is not as perfect as in the wild bird. The bird 

 has this faculty in greater perfection than the mammal 

 because he needs it owing to his wings, which give him 

 an immensely wider range and swifter motion. The 

 mammal, moving on the ground, has more need of 

 intelligence in every act of its life, in every step it 

 takes, and no doubt memorises more. Yet I would 

 say that the mammal, including man in a state of 

 nature, is no more able to do without that sense than 

 the small ant, that " lone wanderer, but not lost," 

 on the grassy down. 



I would say, then, that as mentality enters more 

 into the actions of man, even in his most primitive 

 state, than in other mammals, the sense of direction 

 is less perfect in him than in them. Also that in highly 

 civilised man, especially in urban districts, the sense 

 is so weak as almost to be regarded as obsolescent. 

 Like the sense of smell it is not needed, and in that 

 condition its decay is inevitable. Nevertheless, when 

 the need comes it revives, and when one is among 

 savages or semi-civilised men much given to roaming, 



