A BEAVER'S REASON 



has quite a different air. It at least does not look 

 threatening; the rock is not impending; the open 

 jaws are closed. More than that, the smell of the 

 man's hand would be less apparent, if not entirely 

 absent. The fox drew no rational conclusions; its 

 instinctive fear was allayed by the changed condi- 

 tions of the trap. The hawk has not the fox's cun- 

 ning, hence it fell an easy victim. I do not think 

 that the cunning of the fox is any more akin to 

 reason than is the power of smell of the hound 

 that pursues him. Both are inborn, and are quite 

 independent of experience. If a fox were deliber- 

 ately to seek to elude the hound by running through 

 a flock of sheep, or by following the bed of a 

 shallow stream, or by taking to the public high- 

 way, then I think we should have to credit him 

 with powers of reflection. It is true he often does 

 all these things, but whether he does them by 

 chance, or of set purpose, admits of doubt. 



The cunning of a fox is as much a part of his 

 inherited nature as is his fleetness of foot. All the 

 more notable fur-bearing animals, as the fox, the 

 beaver, the otter, have doubtless been persecuted 

 by man and his savage ancestors for tens of thou- 

 sands of years, and their suspicion of traps and 

 lures, and their skill in eluding them, are the accu- 

 mulated inheritance of ages. 



In denying what we mean by thought or free 

 intelligence to animals, an exception should un- 

 223 



