198 The Bird 
this is the sympathetic or reflex system. It is a very 
wonderful thing, this not having to think about the heart 
beating or the lungs expanding. 
We can understand how a muscle (such as the heart) 
can pump the blood through the body, but we know little 
or nothing of the action of nerves. An eagle soars high 
above the clouds; a rabbit is discovered crouching in 
a field far below; the eye of the eagle telegraphs this 
discovery to the brain; a message is sent along the spinal 
cord, switches off to the wings, repeats to the muscles, 
which half close and set the great pinions firmly; the 
eye is the pilot, never leaving the mark; a triple message 
now goes out, to the wings to hold back, to the legs to 
reach forward, to the talons to open and clutch! All 
is done without a break or hesitation, so quickly that 
one’s eye can hardly register the act, and all by means 
of impulses sent through the finest of white, hair chan- 
nels, consisting of a substance so unstable that it tears 
and falls apart, like wet tissue-paper, when we examine 
it. And if the sending and receiving of impulses seems 
wonderful to us, what can we say of the brain, the master 
of all, where instinct, mind, soul,—no matter what we 
call it,—directs the whole life? It is here that fact upon 
fact, experience upon experience, is stored from the mo- 
ment the bird breaks its shell throughout its whole life- 
time, and it is from the brain that the benefit derived 
from this perception of experience, failures and successes, 
causes and effects, is intelligently brought into play and 
made to redound to the bettering of the subsequent 
life. 
