NATURAL HISTORY NOTES. 
137 
NATURAL HISTORY NOTES AND QUERIES. 
Dancing Birds. — I enclose a short notice from the Echo of March 6, 
which may interest those Selbornians who remarked my account of dancing 
turkeys in Nature Notes for 1893, page 243. Even Mr. Punch took notice 
of my “dancing turkeys” with marks of decided incredulity. Some years 
before I became a “ Selbornian,” I read several accounts of this habit of other 
birds besides turkeys in some magazine, but have unfortunately forgotten which. 
It would be interesting to discover what birds ; I am inclined to think they are 
chiefly of the gallinaceous tribe. “ A good story is that told by Dr. Japp in 
CasselVs Family Magazine of the dancing parties or balls which some birds hold. 
Did you ever hear of them ? The birds which specially indulge in these dissipa- 
tions are the bower-bird, and the American grouse and prairie fowl ; and people 
who have seen the performance say it is one of the most amusing sights in the 
world. The American grouse first prepares its ball-room by beating down the 
grass floor with its wings, the hall being left surrounded by rustling grass and 
golden asters. Morning and evening a party assembles here, with pirouettes and 
curtseys. By twos and fours they advance, bowing their heads and dropping 
their wings ; then they recede and then advance again, and turn on their toes, 
swelling their feathers and clucking gently. Surely they must have a dancing 
master ! Mr. Lord, The Naturalist in British Columbia, gives a description of 
a dance of prairie fowls he saw. There were eighteen or twenty birds present, 
and they danced with their little tails elevated and their wings dropped close to 
the ground and their heads erect. They circled round and round each other in 
slow waltzing time ; then they did a sort of ‘ cure’ performance, jumping about 
two feet into the air ; and then they strutted about and ‘ struck an attitude,’ 
like an acrobat after a successful tumble. All the time they kept up a “ cluck- 
cluck,” having, I suppose, to supply their own music.” 
M. S. Young. 
Thoughtfulness in Birds and Animals. — In reading the article, 
“ Some Commonplace Fowls ” (p. 32), I was reminded of a little incident which 
took place in a field, which one of my windows overlooks, where a number of 
fowls are kept. I observed that a hen had injured one of her legs in some way, 
and was struggling on the ground, unable, apparently, to walk or even stand. 
While in this condition, several of the other hens rushed upon her and began to 
beat her violently with their wings, and to peck her about the head. A cock, 
however, not far off, was not slow in seeing how matters stood, and running at 
full speed up to the offending hens, immediately drove them off and stood over 
the injured bird in order to protect it. It is said that a caged bird, not possess- 
ing the full power of its wings, will, if allowed its freedom, be persecuted by 
other birds, but I have never before, myself, observed such conduct in the 
“domestic” fowl. The action of the hens was remarkable, but the “Sel- 
bornian ” spirit of the cock was, in contrast, not less noteworthy, and one from 
which we, “beings of thought and reason,” may well, perhaps, find a lesson, 
even though some may say that the propelling force, as regards the cock’s action, 
was “ simply instinct,” and that birds and animals are incapable of thinking. 
But the fact that they are incapable of thinking and reasoning as human beings 
is surely no proof that they do not possess the power of thought and reason in a 
Certain sense, and to a certain extent. In face of the many incidents recorded in 
Nature Notes and elsewhere, it seems absurd to endeavour to maintain that 
they do not. It is difficult to believe, for instance, that a bird is prompted 
merely by instinct when it carries a snail or shell-fish to a certain height and lets 
it fall upon a rock in order to break the shell, and if the desired result is not 
obtained, rises with it to a greater height in order to increase the force of the 
fall, and lets it drop a second time upon the rock. Nor can it be said to be “ in 
the nature ” of a milkman’s donkey ,to call with the milk at the house of every 
customer in his master’s absence, and when the door was not opened, to ring the 
bell by pulling the handle with his teeth. Yet such an instance is recorded, 
though no attempt had ever been made to teach the animal the use of the bell 
handle. Its action must have been the result of its observation. It must have 
