25 
FOWL LANGUAGE. 
V window here looks out upon a meadow in which are 
several fowls. Much of their time is spent round 
about a small haystack, the upper part of which pro- 
jects very much over the base, so as to afford them 
good shelter from rain. 
The other day I noticed a pony which had been feeding in 
the meadow, busily engaged in rubbing his back against the 
stack. He had backed as far as he possibly could under the 
projecting part, and was putting such vigour into his movements 
as to make the whole stack rock perceptibly. This was noticed 
by some fowls at the opposite side, which could not see the pony. 
They were staring with outstretched necks and heads turned 
from side to side, in wonder and consternation at the unwonted 
movements of the haystack. Suddenly the old cock uttered a 
loud hoarse scream, whereupon the rest of the fowls at once fled 
in great haste, half running and half flying from the supposed 
source of danger. They understood his warning, which might 
be interpreted : “ Get out of the way, or the stack will fall on 
you,” and immediately obeyed it. We often hear people speak 
of “ dumb animals,” a convenient way of expressing ignorance 
of their language. It would be about as reasonable to call a 
foreigner “dumb” whose speech happened to be unintelligible 
to us. Few observers of animals can, I think, doubt that several 
mammals and birds, to say nothing of insects, can either by 
voice or gesture convey intelligence to members of their own 
species. The vocabulary of the common domestic fowl is a 
particularly extensive one, though we have only succeeded in 
learning the meaning of a few sounds. The (to us) monotonous 
prating which fowls make to each other while searching the 
ground for food may seem perhaps all much the same, but there 
may be, and probably are, slight variations and modulations of 
tone too subtle for our dull ears to detect, yet full of significance 
to them. From its value to man, the unmistakable announce- 
ment of the laying of an egg has probably been understood and 
taken advantage of ever since this useful bird was first domes- 
ticated. Begun by the hen, it is taken up and loudly confirmed 
by the cock, till the important news has been spread far and 
wide. Then there is the clucking note by which the mother 
calls her chickens to her, and directs their attention to the worm 
she has found for them — a sound also used by hens desirous 
of incubating 
Allied to this is the loud rattling call — a sort of hurried and 
varied clucking, by which the cock calls his hens together to 
partake of some choice morsel he has found — sl scrap of meat, 
perhaps, or a young frog. This is a remarkable and rare 
instance of chivalrous and disinterested behaviour in a male 
bird. It is entertaining to watch his frantic and often long- 
