Eagles, and some other Matters.
The eagle is considered the king of birds, as the lion is called the king of beasts. Now both the lion and eagle are strong, and they readily sacrifice all other creatures to their own gluttonous appetites. At the same time, they are both cowardly creatures. The lion is a skulking beast, and steals upon his prey like a thieving cat; and he readily flies from danger, except when hunger impels him to bold deeds. The eagle too, when his crop is well filled, is a lazy creature, and at any time a much smaller bird may drive him away.
Now, the title of king was given to the lion and the eagle, in ancient days, and it shows what the people then thought of kings. It is obvious that they supposed a king to be a powerful, but selfish creature, sacrificing everybody to himself, as do the lion and the eagle. They did not suppose it necessary for the king to be noble, generous, and courageous, for they would not, in that case, have given the title of king, to sly, thieving, cowardly animals.
The opinion of mankind, in early days, being that kings were like lions and eagles, feeding and feasting upon others whom they could master, was no doubt just; and, with few exceptions, this is a true view of the character of kings, in all ages. They have ever cared much for themselves, and very little for the people at large.
But there is one thing more to be remarked in respect to the characters given to animals by the ancients. They called the lion noble, because he was powerful; and for the same reason they called the eagle the bird of Jove—thus making it the associate of one of their gods! At the same time that the ancients thus gave such sounding titles to rapacious and savage animals, they considered a dog as one of the meanest of quadrupeds, and to call a man a dog, was to insult with a very opprobrious epithet. The ancients also called the ass stupid, and a goose was the very emblem of folly.
Now we should reflect a little upon these matters. The dog is a faithful creature, fond of his master, and choosing to live with him, whether in wealth or poverty, rather than to live anywhere else. He prefers remaining in the humble log-cabin, or poor cottage, with only a bone to eat, provided his master and his friend is there, rather than to live in the lordly mansion upon sausages and beef steak, among strangers. The characteristic of the dog, then, is attachment to his friend; and yet, in ancient days, the people called the butchering lion noble, and the faithful dog mean.
And as to the ass, he is in fact one of the most sagacious of all quadrupeds. Old Æsop, who made fables, seems to have done justice to this long-eared, four-legged sage, for, he makes him say a vast many wise things. But not to insist upon the ass’s gift of speech, he is not only an intelligent creature, but he is patient, enduring, hard-working, temperate, and unoffending; at the same time he is more free from vice than almost any other quadruped, even though he is often in the hands of persons who do not set good examples, and abuse him most shamefully. Now as this good beast was called stupid by the ancients, it is fair to infer, that they considered patience, temperance, diligence, and freedom from vice, as mean.
And now a word as to the goose. My young readers may titter as much as they please—for in spite of all their mirth, I am going to stand up for this poor, abused bird. The goose is not silly—but, as compared with other birds, it is in fact wise. There is no creature so watchful as a goose. In a wild state, when in danger of being shot down by the huntsman, they set sentinels to keep guard while the flock is feeding; and on his giving notice of danger, they take wing and fly away. In a domestic state, they give notice by their cackle of every disturbance, and any noise that may happen about the house at night.
Geese are also very courageous in defence of their young; and, beside this, they are capable of attachment, beyond any other bird. The celebrated writer, Buffon, tells a most interesting story of a goose, called Jacquot, that became fond of him because he helped the poor fellow when he was beaten almost to death by a rival gander. Every time Buffon came near, the grateful bird would sing out to him in the most cheerful manner, and would run to him, and put his head up to be patted.
“One day,” says Buffon, “having followed me as far as the ice-house at the top of the park, the spot where I must necessarily part with him in pursuing my path to a wood at half a league distance, I shut him in the park. He no sooner saw himself separated from me, than he vented strange cries. However, I went on my road; and had advanced about a third of the distance, when the noise of a heavy flight made me turn my head; I saw my Jacquot only four paces from me. He followed me all the way, partly on foot, partly on wing; getting before me and stopping at the cross-paths to see which way I should take.
“Our journey lasted from ten o’clock in the morning till eight in the evening; and my companion followed me through all the windings of the wood, without seeming to be tired. After this he attended me everywhere, so as to become troublesome; for I was not able to go to any place without his tracing my steps, so that one day he came to find me in the church! Another time, as he was passing by the rector’s window, he heard me talking in the room; and, as he found the door open, he entered, climbed up stairs, and, marching in, gave a loud exclamation of joy, to the no small affright of the family!
“I am sorry in relating such traits of my interesting and faithful friend Jacquot, when I reflect that it was myself that first dissolved the pleasing connection; but it was necessary for me to separate him from me by force. Poor Jacquot found himself as free in the best apartments as in his own; and after several accidents of this kind, he was shut up and I saw him no more. His inquietude lasted about a year, and he died from vexation. He was become as dry as a bit of wood, I am told; for I would not see him; and his death was concealed from me for more than two months after the event. Were I to recount all the friendly incidents between me and poor Jacquot, I should not for several days have done writing. He died in the third year of our friendship, aged seven years and two months.”
This is a very pleasing story, and sets forth the goose as capable of attachment, and, also, as gifted with much more intelligence than most animals display. But I have another pleasant story for my readers.
At East Barnet, in Hertfordshire, England, some years ago, a gentleman had a Canadian goose, which attached itself in the most affectionate manner to the house dog, but never attempted to enter his kennel, except in rainy weather. Whenever the dog barked, the goose set up a loud cackling, and ran at the person she supposed the dog barked at, and would bite at his heels. She was exceedingly anxious to be on the most familiar terms with her canine friend, and sometimes attempted to eat along with him, which, however, he would not suffer, nor indeed did he manifest the same friendship towards the goose, which it did towards him, treating it rather with indifference. This creature would never go to roost with the others at night, unless driven by main force; and when in the morning they were turned into the field, she refused to go thither, and bent her course towards the yard gate, where she sat all day watching the dog.
The proprietor at length finding it in vain to attempt keeping these animals apart, gave orders that the goose should be no longer interfered with, but left entirely to the freedom of her own will. Being thus left at liberty to pursue her own inclinations, she ran about the yard with him all night, and when the dog went to the village, she never failed to accompany him, and contrived to keep pace with his more rapid movements by the assistance of her wings, and in this way, betwixt running and flying, accompanied him all over the parish. This extraordinary affection is supposed to have originated in the dog having rescued her from a fox in the very moment of distress. It continued for two years, and only terminated with the death of the goose.
Now is not this a good story? and it is all about a goose, that people call a foolish bird. But here is another story, quite as good as any I have told.
“An old goose,” says an English writer, “that had been for a fortnight hatching in a farmer’s kitchen, was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left the nest, and repaired to an outhouse where there was a young goose of the first year, which she brought with her into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrambled into the old one’s nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up the brood. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly after died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, I know of no way of accounting for this fact, but by supposing that the old one had some way of communicating her thoughts and anxieties, which the other was perfectly able to understand. A sister of mine, who witnessed the transaction, gave me the information in the evening of the day it happened.”
Now I begun this chapter by talking about eagles, and I have been rambling on about geese—but I have an object in all this. I wish to show my readers that we have taken certain notions, in regard to animals, from the ancients, which are erroneous; and which have a bad influence upon us. Many a time has a poor ass got a kick, just because of a prejudice that has been handed down from age to age. People scarcely think it wrong to abuse a creature that is called stupid! Now the ass is not stupid; and it is too bad, wrongfully to give him a hard name, and then to kick him for it!
And it is much the same with dogs. How much have these poor creatures suffered, in their day and generation, just because the ancients called them hard names, and thus transmitted, even to our time, a prejudice! And the tranquil, quiet, harmless, goose—how often has a boy hurled a stone at one, and scarcely thought it wrong to wound a creature that is regarded as the emblem of folly!
Now, as I said, we ought to reflect upon these things; we ought not to allow such prejudices to influence us, and to make us really cruel to brute beasts, who are but as God made them, and who fulfil His design in their creation, more perfectly, I suspect, than some other beings I could name, who think pretty well of themselves!
And one observation more is to be made here. The facts we have stated show what erroneous notions the ancients had of virtue. They called the lion and eagle noble, only because they are powerful; they called the dog mean, though he is a pattern of fidelity; they called the ass stupid, though he is patient and frugal; they called the goose silly, because of its great mildness. All these things prove that in the olden time, people thought much of power, and almost worshipped it, even when it was selfish and savage, as is the king of beasts or of birds; while they rather despised the noble virtues of patience, fidelity, friendship, frugality and mildness.
I might go on to tell you of the eagles, with which subject I began this chapter; and especially of the harpy eagle, of which a fine portrait accompanies this number. But in Volume I., page 5, I have said so much on the subject, that I must cut the matter short, only saying that the harpy eagle is a native of South America, and is the most powerful of birds, it being able, by the stroke of its wings, to break a man’s skull.
