366 Certain Phases of Bird-Life. [J uly, 
giving the scattered birds time to return, which they quickly 
did, when, with a similar rush, he again scattered them. 
One little snow-bird was so thoroughly frightened that it lit 
upon my shoulder, as though seeking safety under the brim 
of my hat. The third effort of the hawk failing, he came 
back immediately and seated himself at a little distance 
from the top of the tree, and close to the main stem. I re- 
mained nearly motionless, but with upturned face, and 
could plainly see the bird, though fortunately I escaped 
notice. One thing in particular attracted my notice ; the 
bird was very much exhausted — “ out of breath,” as we 
should say of ourselves — and, with his beak open, he panted 
violently. This satisfied me that the efforts to capture prey 
are not accomplished with the ease sometimes supposed. 
As the rain was increasing, and the wind considerable, the 
sparrows again collected in the tree ; and now the hawk 
rushed out instead of in, and bore a luckless sparrow in his 
claws. 
I think that we have here all that I claimed, when speak- 
ing of ingenuity on the part of adult birds in seeking their 
food. There was in the above instance a painful conscious- 
ness, at first, of failure to secure the desired prey ; there 
was a determination to succeed, in spite of failure at the 
start, and a correct determination of the cause of failure, 
coupled with the invention of a plan by which the difficulties 
might be overcome. What more should be required to 
demonstrate that the mental powers of lower animals differ 
from those of man solely in degree ? 
Again, let us consider a case of ingenuity displayed by a 
bird in successfully avoiding an enemy. Here there is more 
cause to be surprised at the result, inasmuch as there was 
no cessation of the attack to give the pursued bird time for 
considering how best to adl under the circumstances ; but, 
while fleeing for life, it matured a plan of escape that hap- 
pily succeeded. This instance of ingenuity on the part of a 
pursued bird I have already related (“ Land and Water,” 
March 2, 1872), but, considering it more remarkable than 
any other that has occurred to my knowledge, and having 
witnessed a repetition of it two years later, I again relate it 
in preference to other instances I have noted bearing upon 
the same subject. The case is that of a “ king-rail ” ( Rallus 
elegans), which my spaniel flushed in open ground, the grass 
not being tall enough to conceal it. The bird trusted wholly 
to running, and kept clear of the dog ; frequently it 
“ doubled,” and seemed to enjoy the chase; but, evidently 
becoming somewhat fatigued, as shown by the nearer 
