192 The Carnivora. 
on, by which they are certainly communicating their emotions, 
if not actual thoughts; and I have been enabled to inter- 
pret this quite accurately with one of my retrievers. He 
is disposed to be very quarrelsome, and, from paying great 
attention to his manner, I know when he has given, or is 
about to give, the silent challenge which culminates in a 
desperate attack, and promptly seize him by the collar. On 
the other hand, I can be quite certain when, after inspect- 
ing his adversary, he has discovered nothing to raise his 
angry passions, and can walk on in confidence that there 
will be no breach of the peace. I cannot so readily perceive 
the signs of the rising tumult in the breast of the other 
dog; but my own dog, no doubt, understands the slightest 
shades of meaning in his expression. Some years ago I sent 
to the late Charles Darwin a number of cases bearing on this 
subject, and ‘his reply was: “I quite believe that animals do 
somehow communicate together; but how they manage to do 
so I do not at all know.” 
Among the habits acquired by the dog through association 
with man, one of the most useful to us is that of “point- 
ing.” This act has become an instinct in sporting dogs, and 
strongly inherited, though it is entirely artificial. Probably 
it had its origin in the act of the wild ancestor pausing 
momentarily before springing on his prey, now so greatly 
exaggerated and prolonged that this habit has become totally 
different from anything observable in any wild species. 
Shooting snipe, one winter, on Dartmoor, over a very staunch 
old pointer, afforded me opportunities of seeing how long a 
good dog will “stand” game. In the long grass that grows 
on some of the mires, it was impossible to see him when he 
was at a point, and, being totally deaf, calling or whistling 
him was of no avail. On one occasion, I had been searching 
for him at least a quarter of an hour, and feared he might 
have got bogged in a peculiarly treacherous part of the mire. 
Eventually, I found him standing rigid as a rock, shivering 
with the bitter cold, his coat stiff with icicles, from the 
