656 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 24, 1908. 
for the market when he heard his dogs bark¬ 
ing furiously in a little canon near by and hur¬ 
ried there with a single-barreled shotgun. The 
boy had never seen a mountain lion before and 
knew nothing of the ferocity of the beasts or 
he would not have tried to kill him with such 
an ineffectual weapon. However, he blazed 
away several times, the animal leaping from 
branch to branch. At last the lion fell to the 
ground and the dogs engaged him. While the 
dogs were fighting the beast, the boy rushed in 
and emptied a charge at close range into the 
lion’s head, dispatching him. The lion weighed 
100 pounds and measured 6 feet 2 inches from 
tip to tip. A. P. B. 
Stalking a Pigeon. 
New York City, Oct. 15 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: While waiting on one of the city 
piers recently I was the witness of an interest¬ 
ing spectacle. 
A pigeon flew in on the floor of the pier and 
commenced looking around for crumbs or some¬ 
thing edible. Presently a large cat appeared 
upon the scene, evidently intent upon stalking 
the pigeon. First it took up its position behind 
a pillar and as the pigeon moved about the cat 
maneuvered behind the pillar so as to be out 
of view. For a while the bird, unconscious of 
any danger, was moving in the direction of its 
enemy, but happily in the nick of time began to 
move in an opposite direction. When it had 
passed a second pillar the cat stealthily followed 
it and took up its position as before. 
The pigeon now found something to its taste 
-and was intent upon pecking it, with its back 
turned, when the cat moved out and proceeded 
to shorten the distance between it and its quarry. 
The attitude of the stalker was worthy of all 
note. It lav flattened out to the utmost extent 
upon the flfcr and its movements forward ap¬ 
peared to be caused by muscular contraction 
alone. Nearer and nearer it got to the uncon¬ 
scious pigeon and all the spectators held their 
breath. Finally it seemed to deem that the 
distance had been sufficiently shortened and that 
it was time to spring. Then with an alert move¬ 
ment it gathered itself into something like a 
ball and with bristling hair and blazing eyes it 
looked truly fatal. A shout was upon more than 
one lip, but before this could be raised the 
pigeon happened to glance around and spying its 
enemy rose up with a loud flapping of the wings. 
The spectators breathed freely again, while they 
■could not help laughing at the evident disap¬ 
pointment and chagrin of the cat. 
Frank Moonan. 
Grouse in Chenango County. 
Smithville Flats, N. Y., Oct. 12. — Editor 
Forest and Stream: The shooting this year is 
very poor. The native woodcock were all driven 
out by the drouth and ruffed grouse or partridge 
are very scarce. In covers where I found twenty- 
five to fifty three years ago I cannot find over 
a dozen. There are some out of the covers now, 
but still they are very scarce, so we have de¬ 
cided not to hunt them so hard this year and to 
give them a rest. F. Hausmann. 
All the game laws of the United States and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Laws in Brief. See adv. 
Animal Intelligence Versus Instinct. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In some paper I read the other day the writer 
raised the query: Why is it that as a general 
rule a horse once helplessly mired cannot be 
driven into that particular mire again, whereas 
an ox or a cow will show but little, if any, hesi¬ 
tancy in re-entering the same quagmire if there 
be any good reason or motive for so doing? 
The writer of the article referred to argued 
from this fact that as between the two animals 
the horse thereby showed the greater degree of 
intelligence. But, thereupon, evidently being an 
evolutionist, he asked the further question: Why 
or how is it that as between the two animals, so 
like in organization, and both so long under like 
conditions of domestication, the one seems to 
possess a degree of intelligence noticeably higher 
than the other? 
The writer of the article referred to was “up 
against” some matters as to which, so far as I 
know, our modern investigators of animal life 
have given but little attention. To what extent, 
if at all, does instinct modify intelligence or 
vice versa? As a general rule, do animals of 
the most highly developed instincts possess the 
highest or the lowest capacity for intelligence? 
Or with our present knowledge of animal life, 
extensive as it is, can any general rule be formu¬ 
lated on this subject? I will admit that though 
I have been something of an observer I can¬ 
not formulate any. If anybody can, I would 
like to hear it. 
Returning to the horse and cow case, it may 
be noted first: That the horse is naturally a 
highly nervous animal, while the ox is not. Dur¬ 
ing my boyhood on the farm we always drove 
and guided oxen with a whip—sometimes with 
a stick—and had no difficulty in doing so; but 
any man who would dispense with bits and 
reins and attempt to manage even an average 
horse team with a whip would try it only once. 
Do the most nervous animals as a rule show 
the highest intelligence? Possibly this question 
of nerves has more to do with the matter than 
we generally think. 
Returning again to my boyhood experience, 
my father’s farm consisted chiefly of upland 
sloping somewhat abruptly to a broad valley 
through which flowed a country creek. At one 
place along the base of the slope, for about a 
quarter of a mile, was a muck bed, perhaps sixty 
yards wide, mostly sodded over with succulent 
grass, but broken through at many points, and 
in “soft weather” easily broken through almost 
anywhere. Between the muck bed and the creek 
was a good stretch of ordinary pasturage. But 
the finest grass, especially in the early spring, 
as well as in the times of drouth, was on this 
muck bed. Now the oxen and cows would feed 
all over this muck bed without any hesitancy, 
sinking in the mire often knee deep, and some¬ 
times deeper, but it never seemed to worry them 
in the least. Standing knee deep in the mire 
the5 would gather all the grass within reach, 
ther. patiently, slowly and without the least ap¬ 
parent show of fear, haste or anxiety would pull 
out one foot after another, work along into a 
new place or position and quietly resume feed¬ 
ing. The horses on the other hand fed only 
outside of or along the edge of the muck bed, 
or if perchance they got so far in that their 
footing began to give way they backed out. 
Now, I do not regard this as a particularly 
interesting fact except as it ma}^ possibly throw 
some light on the instincts acquired by the ani¬ 
mals prior to domestication and while in a wild 
state. The horse, having no horns or other like 
means of frontal attack or defense, generally 
chose for his place of habitation an open upland 
territory where, in case of danger, he could 
escape by flight. Hence, in a wild state, he had 
but little experience of quagmires—just enough 
probably to learn to avoid them. For, if at¬ 
tacked by a ravenous enemy while feeding on 
miry ground, he would be seriously handicapped 
by his unreliable footing in his efforts to escape 
or to defend himself by kicking. The horned 
ox on the other hand, with his efficient means 
of frontal defense, was naturally less timorous 
and probably fed most and oftenest where the 
food was best, which, especially with the open¬ 
ing of spring or during periods of drouth, would 
be along near the watercourses or on marshy 
ground. If attacked, considerations of safety 
did not compel him to run, and as cattle are 
naturally gregarious, and when wild run in 
herds with the bulls for special guardians, they 
probably had but little fear of their most numer¬ 
ous natural enemies and consequently fed where 
the food was best and most abundant. Thus 
acquiring the habit of feeding on marshy ground 
they never acquired a fear of it or of the 
enemies it might shelter as did the horse, so 
that ultimately the habit became fixed as an 
instinct and still exists. 
To my apprehension the facts above stated 
sufficiently explain why a horse generally shows 
or is afraid of a mire while an ox is not. And 
if my explanation is correct then it is not a mat¬ 
ter of comparative intelligence as between the 
two classes of animals, but rather one of in¬ 
stinct based on the experiences of untold genera¬ 
tions long prior to the domestication of either. 
However, another fact may be worth noting. 
Years ago I occasionally went duck shooting in 
the marshy prairies which then bordered the 
Kankakee River in northwestern Indiana. The 
country was but sparsely settled and the single 
road which ran east and west was, in the spring 
and fall, a practically continuous bog, occasion¬ 
ally crossed by a bottomless slough. I then ob¬ 
served that the horses there in use, home-born, 
home-broke and home-trained had but little fear 
of the mire, even though, now and then, they 
got so deeply mired that they had to be helped 
out. Apparently this particular instinct had been 
trained out of those particular horses. 
These matters are obviously of no importance 
either way except as bearing on the question: 
Where in animal life does instinct end and in¬ 
telligence begin? Following which, however, 
comes another question: To what extent does 
subsequently acquired intelligence modify the 
workings of an original instinct? 
Shaganoss. 
BREAKFAST IN CAMP 
is nothing without coffee, and coffee is nothing 
without Cream. Ordinarily cream is out of the 
question nine times out of ten, but Borden’s 
Peerless Brand Evaporated Milk takes its place 
perfectly and keeps indefinitely until opened. It 
is unsweetened and has the natural cream flavor 
and color.— Adv. 
The Forest and Stream may he obtained from 
any newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to 
supply you regularly. 
