Instinctive Muscular Coördinations

In the acts already described we see fitting coördinations at work in the chick’s reactions to space-facts. A few more samples may be given. In jumping down from heights the chick does not walk off or fall off (save rarely), but jumps off. He meets the situation “loneliness on a small eminence” by walking around the edge and peering down; he meets the situation “sight of fellow chicks below” by (after an amount of hesitation varying roughly with the height) jumping off, holding his stubby wings out and keeping right side up. He lands on his feet almost every time and generally very cleverly. A four days’ chick will jump down a distance eight times his own height without hurting himself a bit. If one takes a chick two or three weeks old who has never had a chance to jump up or down, and puts him in a box with walls three times the height of the chick’s back, he will find that the chick will jump, or rather fly, nearly, if not quite, over the wall, flapping his wings lustily and holding on to the edge with his neck while he clambers over. Chicks one day old will, in about 57 per cent of the cases, balance themselves for five or six seconds when placed on a stiff perch. If eight or nine days old, they will, though never before on any perch or anything like one, balance perfectly for a minute or more. The muscular coördination required is invoked immediately when the chick feels the situation “feet on a perch.” The strength is lacking in the first few days. From the fifth or sixth day on chicks are also able (their ability increases with age) to balance themselves on a slowly swinging perch.

Another complex coördination is seen in the somewhat remarkable instinct of swimming. Chicks only a day or two old will, if tossed into a pond, head straight for the shore and swim rapidly to it. It is impossible to compare their movements in so doing with those of ducklings, for the chick is agitated, paddles his feet very fast and swims to get out, not for swimming’s sake. Dr. Bashford Dean, of Columbia University, has suggested to me that the movements may not be those of swimming, but only of running. At all events, they are utterly different from those of an adult fowl. In the case of the adult there is no vigorous instinct to strike out toward the shore. The hen may try to fly back into the boat if it is dropped overboard, and whether dropped in or slung in from the shore, will float about aimlessly for a while and only very slowly reach the shore. The movements the chick makes do look to be such as trying to run in water might lead to, but it is hard to see why a hen shouldn’t run to get out of cold water as well as a chick. If, on the other hand, the actions of the chick are due to a real swimming instinct, it is easy to see that, being unused, the instinct might wane as the animal grew up.

Such instinctive coördinations as these, together with the walking, running, preening of feathers, stretching out of leg backward, scratching the head, etc., noted by other observers, make the infant chick a very interesting contrast to the infant man. That the helplessness of the child is a sacrifice to plasticity, instability and consequent power to develop we all know; but one begins to realize how much of a sacrifice when one sees what twenty-one days of embryonic life do for the chick brain. And one cannot help wondering whether some of the space-perception we trace to experience, some of the coördinations which we attribute to a gradual development from random, accidentally caused movements may not be more or less definitely provided for by the child’s inherited brain structure. Walking has been found to be instinctive; why not other things?