6 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
by imitation, and not by instinct, it seems very remark- 
able that each kind of bird keeps so persistently to the 
song of its own species. If such was the case one would 
suppose that the dififerejtt species would constantly imi- 
tate each other, and that our woods and fields would 
be filled with such a medley of bird song that it would 
be impossible to distinguish the species by the song. 
The possibility of a bird learning to sing by imitation 
IS not questioned. I have had no experience with iso- 
lated song birds; but when I raised turkeys I some- 
times killed the stock gobbler as soon as he was no 
longer needed, and left the turkey hens to raise their 
broods alone. When this was done the young males 
grew up without hearing a gobble, or having an ex- 
ample set them in strutting, but they always acquired 
both of those acconipHshments in due season. It is 
very likely that they would have commenced to strut 
and to gobble earlier, if they had had the old one with 
them.. But the lack of his example did not prevent them 
from becoming perfectly proficient all in good time. 
I suppose the gobble may he regarded as the song of 
the turke}', and if instinct is sufficient for the turkey, 
why is it not sufficient for the thrush and the vireo? 
Hermit tells us that he has seen mother birds assist 
in nest building in several instances, and that on one 
occasion he saw a young pair commence to build in a 
place so unsuitable that the nest fell down; where- 
upon the -older birds assisted the young things to select 
a better place. But this does not prove that the young 
birds %vere unable to build their own nest. Even men, 
both old and young — the wise and puissant lords of 
creation — sometimes construct their homes in places 
that are disastrously unsuitable. I have seen a great 
many bird.s' nests in positions that indicated very little 
foresight on the part of the birds; but I have" never 
seen the least evidence that there is a healthy and ma- 
ture bird in existence that is unable to construct the 
nest of its species without the least help from a school- 
master. If Hermit should tell me that he has seen old 
Baltimore orioles, for instance, helping a young pair to 
build their nest, I would not regard it as improbable. 
I think it very likely that some birds, like some men 
and women, are unnecessarily officious. But if he 
should tell me that a pair of young orioles are unable 
to build their first nest without instruction, I should 
want him to inform me just how he knows. It would 
be interesting to know if young spiders require the as- 
sistance of their elders to enable them to weave their 
first webs; and, also, if 3'oung bees take a course in 
mechanical engineering as a preliminary to making the 
hexagonal cells for their honey and for the eggs of 
their queen. I think, however, that it is obvious that 
the caterpillar receives no scholastic instruction in pre- 
paring for its transformation into a butterfly, and its 
cocoon is far more intricate in construction than the 
nest of any bird. 
Instinct may now be a "commoner" in the sense of 
being less exalted than reason, as it always has been, 
but, so far from being "deposed," it is still the power 
by which God preserves and perpetuates all the living 
creatures of the world. Even men owe their existence 
to the instinct that impels a new born babe to draw 
nourishment from its mother's breast. If all the cre- 
ation was suddenly deprived of instinct, all forms of 
life inferior to man would die almost immediately. In 
the case of every creature, but man, even the desire to 
live and to perpetuate the species, is maintained by in- 
stinct only. The human race alone might possibly 
endure miserably for a generation, gradually perishing 
amid the general decay of nature. I. W. G. 
The Intelligence of the Wild Things 
Yuma, Arizona. — Editor Forest and Stream: On the 
"Intelligence of Wild Things," some of your corre- 
spondents are inclined to be disputative rather than 
convincing, by the introduction of new and additional 
illustrations. Even the pip and peep of the artificial 
incubator has been pushed into the controversy, and the 
original charge of "false natural history," made by Mr. 
John Burroughs, has been wholly lost sight of. Prob- 
ably neither Mr. Long nor Mr. Seton intended their 
human animals and birds to be taken seriously many 
removes from short skirts and knee breeches, any 
more than did Kipling his wonderful jungle books. To 
the old as well as young, they are full of pleasure. Even 
honest John Burroughs undoubtedly burned his candle 
low before he closed the book on old Krag. Youth 
has passed the place where "brook and river meet" 
before it is willing to relinquish the delights afforded 
by "Robinson Crusoe," "Arabian Nights" and fairy 
and folklore tales. If animals and birds can be made 
to entertainingly talk and act through the genius of 
Seton, then, by all means, let the bars down very low 
that all may do so. Those who. love animals delight in 
seeing the lights and shadows of his masterful pen 
make them outwit their supposedly more intellectual 
enemies. I do not know anything about Mr. Long, but 
if he has done no worse than Mr. Seton with the 
denizens of the woodland, we will forgive him his sins 
and shortcomings and pray for a little more of the 
same sort. 
Before closing my "butt in" I would like to call at- 
tention to an editorial note in White's Natural History of 
Selborne, Chatto & Windus, Piccadilly, 1890, page 89. 
It says: 
"There has been much controversy among natural- 
ists whether the notes of birds are innate or acquired; 
the greater part of which has originated among those 
who argue on general principles without experimenting. 
We have ourselves instituted these experiments, and 
have proved clearly that the song of birds is innate. 
We have brought up repeatedly broods of young chaf- 
finches, and they invariably sang their native notes when 
they arrived at maturity; and this without the possi- 
bility of their hearing the song of their kindred. Nay, 
on the contrary, they were brought up in the same 
room with a gray linnet, and never acquired any of its 
notes, but had their peculiar notes, which cannot pos- 
sibly be mistaken." Papago. 
Songs of Birds in Confinement* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I yviU never believe that training does not play a large 
part in the mental development of a bitd or animal. We 
are told that chicks Avill commence to scratch and yoilng 
ducks take to water the moment almost after they leave 
the shell. Undoubtedly all birds and animals have pri- 
mary instincts, and the impulse to hunt for food is of 
course one of the strongest of these. But T contend if 
tliese primary instincts were not supplemented by a course 
of practical instruction they would not have much chance 
in the struggle for existence. 
Take tiie chick or the young duck referred to, in a state 
of nature, and deprive it of its mother. It may be able 
to pick up a living ar.d it may not, not knowing where 
to search, but how long will it escape the fox or the 
hawk? 
We have all read of Little Red Riding Hood and the 
wolf. I could weave a very similar tale out of the chick 
and the fox, or the young duck and the hawk. All the 
arts of eluding or escaping from enemies — all the superior 
cunning in hunting for food — all the general intelligence 
in promoting well-being and longevity are the result of 
training and experience. 
But, say the hard-and-fast advocates of the instinct 
theorjf, how do you account for a bird in confinement 
learning to sing? To this it may be answered that the 
song of a bird properly bears no relation to knowledge. 
It is as much a part of the bird as its plumage. Other- 
wise, it is the efflorescence of the bird-soul, so to speak, 
and its raison d'etre is love. It is independent of circum- 
stance or environment, and only requires the amatory in- 
fluence of the spring to make it gush forth. The bird 
tal ces no thought of it — ^it wells up within it all spon- 
taneouslj'. Nevertheless there are some birds which sing 
much better than others, and of course a young bird is 
helped in its early es.says by listening to an old bird ; but 
it would sing its song ultimately if left entirely to itself, 
as we see in the case of caged birds. However, I have 
never known a caged bird to sing with the same verve 
and variety as a bird in its native wilds. 
Perhaps I should note an exception, viz., the canary. 
But this bird is so accustomed to the cage (I fancy 
it has been a family pet for centuries) that confinement 
has becorne a sort of second nature to it. The thrush, 
the mockingbird, the lark and other imperial songsters 
all obviously pine in confinement, lose heart and spirit 
and sing in a subdued, broken fashion. I confess I never 
see one of these birds behind bars that I do not feel in- 
clined to break the bars. The man who will cage a lark 
deserves almost to be caged himself. He is a lover of 
nature, I suppose, but he is also a man who does not 
love liberty except for himself, or at least he is thought- 
less and selfish. He wants to sit in his shirt sleeves on 
Sunday morning with his pipe in his mouth, as I have 
often seen him in rural parts, and have the lark sing for 
him. The song he hears, however, is O so different from 
what he might hear if he only took the trouble to go out 
into the fields and woods. 
I was in the Zoological Gardens in Philadelphia some 
time ago and heard a British blackbird {Turdtis mcrula) 
sing in its cage in the aviary. Anything more plaintive 
1 never heard. There it sat on i'.s little perch, amid 
squalid surroundings, uttering at intervals its mellow 
notes, which seemed to vibrate with yearning and regret. 
Its eyes were half closed and I could imagine that while 
it sang it was dreaming of its far o|f home — of the thorny 
hedge or brake, with the wild gleams of a watery March 
sunset playing upon it. 
Turning from this pathetic picture I was confronted 
with one which was at once pathetic and humorous. 
A bird (the Poe honey-eater of New Zealand) with the 
general resemblance of a starling, only larger, and with 
two little white curling feathers set in its neck like a 
parson's cravat, sat on its perch also a-singing. The song, 
however, was about as. different from the blackbird's as 
could be, being a voluble einission of shrill, jerky notes, 
interrupted occasionally with a squawk, and ending with 
a sound like the popping of a cork. It was decidedly a 
humorous performance, but it had its pathetic side, too, 
as I have said, and this consisted in the seeming frenzy 
of the bird. One cotfld have imagined that it was actually 
choking from the excess'of its emotion. 
There is little doubt that birds reason after a certain 
elementary fashion, and..,there is no doubt whatever that 
thej' remember. They' remember especially where they 
were born, and return to the spot year after year if they 
escape the chances of migration or survive. It would be 
going too far, of course, to suppose that a young bird 
taken from the nest and put in a cage bears any memory 
of its early surroundings, but we may be quite sure of 
this, that it is conscious in a dim way that the cage is not 
its natural environment. It will often mope or sit a- 
brooding, as it were, or take a sudden mad fit and beat 
its wings against the cage till they bleed even, and when 
it sings its song is only the ghost of its real self. Some 
birds will not sing at all in confinement ; this is true espe- 
cially of the nightingale. It seems the greater the genius, 
or the higher the nervous organization, the heavier falls 
the loss of liberty. 
Assuredly the song of birds is half the charm of a 
woodland. Who that has stood in the recesses of a deep 
forest has not realized the pervading sense of loneliness 
and melancholy because of the absence of it? Now, on 
first blush it would seem legitimate enough to import this 
woodland music into the household, but for the reason 
that it loses its setting there and fades into comparative 
insignificance and more especially for the reason that a 
piteous wrong is involved the practice should stand con- 
demned. 
We are all acquainted with the sentimentalists who 
raise a periodical cry against shooting, and yet these, for 
the most part, are the very persons who do the caging. 
I suppose they will never be able, from their peculiar men- 
tal make-up, to understand that it is far more humane to 
shoot a bird than to 'put it in a cage. 
Francis Moonan, 
§ag md ^m* 
Proprietors of shooting resorts will find it profitable to advertise 
them in Fokxst akd Stxsau. 
All communications intended for Forest akd Stseau should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
New York, and oot to any individual connected with the paper. 
The Things Men Kill. 
"The evil that men do lives after them; 
The good is often interred with their bOnes." 
It would seem that the art of journalism, like any 
other effort of man, can never be made perfect or fault- 
less. There is bitter and sweet in most of the things 
mankind has to deal with. A journal, in particular, that 
expects to enjoy influence and respect must say things 
that are bitter to some of its readers. Its judgment, in 
Its adherence to truth, is the rock of its foundation. I 
hope to be excused for contributing to these columns 
some bitterness for some readers. 
In the Sunday Examiner, one of the great newspapers 
published by William Randolph Hearst, in San Francisco, 
Chicago and New York, there appeared. May 31, a full- 
page picture and an article by the artist. Homer Daven- 
port. The picture, crudely drawn and printed, shows the 
"State Dining Room" at Washington, as the artist has 
seen fit to arrange it in his caricature. The walls of the 
room over the dining table are shown to be adorned with 
the mounted heads of a bear, a moose, a deer, an eagle, 
a wild ram, a boar, an antelope, an elk, a buffalo, a 
moose, a puma and a tiger. All of the trophies are appar- 
ently American except the tiger's head. 
The picture is good enough, for its kind, but the article 
printed under it, over the signature "Homer Davenport," 
is not only a kind of libel upon the President of the 
United States, but it is instdting to American sportsmen, 
lE not to the bone and sinew that has reared the greatest 
commonwealth from a wilderness that a hundred and fifty 
years ago was populated exclusively by wild beasts and 
savages. Whether this has improved the face of the 
earth or has marred it does not so much matter. The 
pioneers with rifle, ax, energy and character made it pos- 
sible for Mr. William. Randolph Hearst to publish three 
of the greatest daily newspapers, employ Mr. Homer 
Davenport, and incidentally aspire to the Presidency of 
the United States. 
Under the mounted heads in the picture Mr. Davenport 
has placed the words, "I killed," etc., and one paragraph 
m his article reads as follows : "If Mr Roosevelt cannot 
enjoy his meals except in the presence of the stuffed re- 
mains of his victims, it would have been better to 
decorate his private dining room with them instead of 
bringing such horrors into the State dining room." 
The illustration and the article, in its attempt at covert 
insincerity, cannot well be construed as anything better 
than rude and envious slander Such trash is misleading 
to many people simply because the newspaper goes broad- 
cast and is read, or seen, at least, by hundreds of thous- 
ands of readers or persons. Among them there are doubt- 
less others who know and understand as little of the 
ethics of sportsmanship as does Mr. Davenport himself, 
and that is saying much in few words. If his article was 
budded enviously, because the State dining room is not 
decorated with his own conceptions of artistic adornment, 
he is not likely to profit by it. If it was conceived and 
executed to detract from the popular personality of 
Iheodore Roosevelt, it will not lose him friends other 
than the President can spare. In publishing such work 
of Mr. Davenport Mr Hearst will not, in all probability, 
gain much intelligent influence, even with three "largest 
printing presses in the world." 
Men are the most destructive animals in the world. 
Much of their energy, reason and execution is devoted 
to arts that annihilate, destroy and renew, for better or 
for worse. Every civilization in the world's history has 
been built upon the graves of wild beasts and savages. 
Civilization itself feeds upon flesh and blood, and under 
its ponderous tread things good and beautiful are ground 
to dust with the things othe rwise. ; Man is no better and 
no more merciful than nature, but some men are honest 
in their efforts to be. as merciful as possible. Men who 
publish great journals that are printed on both sides are 
not always of these. Some great newspapers advocate 
every virtue on one page, and upon the next advertise 
all sorts of things, for they need the money thus obtain- 
able. Such men are even more destructive than those 
Avho kill bears and moose and mice. 
A very pathetic picture, and a most moving homily,, 
may be drawn and presented of men killing bears with 
suckling cubs, slaughtering beautiful and graceful deer 
or tigers, but the talents of any sincere artist in this 
y.'orld may find better and more effective use for humane 
impulse. Let those artists depict some of the amendable 
inhumanities under their noses in any civilized com- 
munity upon which they subsist. Let them depict some- 
thing miserable that they can make better, or at least at- 
tempt doing so. Go into the artistic parks of the cities 
and show how people with highly cultivated tastes drive 
and torture noble animals known as horses with the 
family carriage at their tails and overhead checks on 
their patient, beautiful heads. How many policemen with 
clubs does it take to keep the people of a great city from 
preying upon each other without special legislation? 
President Roosevelt will scarcely find it necessary to 
defend his "personality" against the attack of Messrs. 
Davenport and Hearst. At present the President does 
not appear to be engaged in killing as many things as he 
might if he was in a very bloodthirsty mood. In fact, it 
appears that there are imposters abroad with endless rolls 
of white paper and barrels of black ink, and with these 
materials and mighty printing machines they are en- 
deavoring to renovate the world. With the addition of 
some wisdom and good clear brains they would be most 
excellently well equipped. 
There has been quite enough of the bogus sentiment of 
imposters and idiots put into type by ignorant publishers, 
but there is no way of stopping it, any more than there is 
of preventing fools and politicians frofh exercising their 
privilege of free speech. Intelligent people caimot but 
know that sportsmen worthy of the name are as humane 
and refined as any class of people in the United States, 
or any other region. It is a commendable trait for sports- 
men to preserve as best they may the trophies they win 
