INTRODUCTION 
xxiii 
While I have no desire to exploit my personal experiences among wild creatures, it is at least 
fair to state, for the benefit of the millions to whom the writer is unknown, that of wild creatures 
in their haunts, and also in captivity, he has seen as much as most men of his tastes. 
The tendency of the present is to idealize the higher animals, to ascribe to them intelligence 
and reasoning powers which they do not possess, and in some instances to “observe” wonderful 
manifestations that take place chiefly in the imagination of the beholder. For example, to a ruffed 
grouse, having mingled blood and mud on a broken leg, is ascribed a deliberate and well-considered 
attempt at “ surgery,” and the intentional making of a clay jacket, re-enforced with pieces of grass. 
To my mind, all such “ observations ” as the above are too absurd for serious consideration; and 
when put forth for the information of the young, they are harmful. 
There exists to-day a tendency to ascribe to wild animals a full measure of human intelligence. 
But wild creatures must not be taken too seriously. With all their “schools” in the woods, they 
are not yet as intelligent as human beings; and the strain that is being put upon them by some 
of their exponents is much too great. With the most honest intentions, a naturalist may so com- 
pletely overestimate and misinterpret the actions of animals as to reach very ridiculous conclusions. 
Judging from all that I have seen and heard of wild creatures of many kinds, from apes to 
centipedes, both in captivity and out, I believe that practically all their actions are based upon 
natural, inborn instinct — nearly all of it in the line of self-preservation, and the exceptions are due to 
the natural tendency to imitate leaders. Of hereditary knowledge — another name for instinct, 
some animals have an abundance. Of special knowledge, acquired by systematic reasoning from 
premise to conclusion, most animals have very little, and very few ever exhibit powers of ratioci- 
nation. 
It is not true that young animals know things only as their parents teach them. The assertion 
that all young birds must be “taught” to fly, or run, or swim, or catch insects, is ridiculous, and 
not even worthy of discussion. It is just as natural for a one-week-old lion cub to spit, and claw 
at a human hand, as it is for it to breathe and suck. There are no deer in a captive herd so 
insanely wild and fearful of keepers as the fawns. 
No; even the higher animals are not yet as wise as human beings. In matters involving intel- 
ligence, such as in the treatment of wounds, or disease, below the higher Primates there is not more 
than one out of every hundred which has sense enough to comprehend a relief measure, or which 
will not fight the surgeon to the utmost. Some apes do indeed learn to be doctored; but there 
are many which never grasp the idea, and fight until they die. Of mammals generally, not more 
than one out of every hundred will permit a bandage to remain on a broken leg when they have 
the power to tear it off. “Animal surgery,” indeed! 
In the matter of disposition, wild mammals and birds are no more angelic than human beings. 
In every family, in every herd, and in every cage, from tigers to doves, the strong bully and oppress 
the weak, and drive them to the wall. Of all quadrupeds, deer are the greatest fools, wolves are 
the meanest, apes the most cunning, bears the most consistent and open-minded, and elephants 
the most intellectual. 
Of birds, the parrots and cockatoos are the most philosophic, the cranes are the most domi- 
neering, the darters are the most treacherous, the gallinaceous birds have the least common-sense, 
and the swimming birds are by far the quickest to recognize protection, and accept it. 
The virtues of the higher animals have been extolled unduly, and their intelligence has been 
magnified about ten diameters. The meannesses and cruelties of wild animals toward each other 
form a long series of chapters which have not yet been written, and which no lover of animals cares 
to write. 
I can see no possible objection to the writing of good fiction stories in which animals are the 
characters and the actors throughout. I love a good story, and I enjoy a wild-animal hero, even 
when the entire plot and all its characters are imaginary. To such there can be no objection, 
so long as the reader knows that fiction is fiction ! But the realms of fact and fiction are very 
distinct, and the boundary should be maintained, openly and visibly. In books for children, espe- 
