The same author elsewhere says:—
Few things, indeed, can show more forcibly the powerful instinct which is implanted in animals for their self-preservation than the means which they take to avoid danger. I saw an instance of this lately in a stag. It had been turned out before a pack of hounds, and, when somewhat pressed by them, I observed it twice to go amongst a flock of sheep, and in both cases to double back, evidently, I should imagine, with the intention of baffling the pursuit of the dogs. It would thus seem that the animal was aware of its being followed by the scent, and not by sight. If this be the case, it affords another proof that animals are possessed of something more than common instinct.[199]
This author also says that he has 'frequently observed the buffalo at the Zoological Farm on Kingston Hill' display the following proof of intelligence. Being of a ferocious disposition, a strong iron ring was fixed through the septum of his nose, to which a chain about two feet long was attached. At the free end of the chain there was another ring about four inches in diameter. 'In grazing the buffalo must have put his feet on this ring, and in raising his head the jerk would have produced considerable pain. In order to avoid this the animal has the sense to put his horn through the lower ring, and thus avoid the inconvenience he is put to. I have seen him do this in a very deliberate manner, putting his head on one side while he got his horn through the ring, and then shaking his head till the ring rested at the bottom of the horn.'[200]
The following is quoted from Mrs. Lee's 'Anecdotes' (p. 366), and is rendered credible not only because her own observations are generally good, but also because we shall subsequently find unquestionable evidence of the display of similar intelligence by cats:—
A goat and her kids frequented a square in which I once lived, and were often fed by myself and servants—a circumstance which would have made no impression, had I not heard a thumping at the hall door, which arose from the buttings of the goat when the food was not forthcoming, and whose example was followed by the two little things. After a time this remained unheeded, and, to our great astonishment, one day the area bell used by the tradespeople, the wire of which passed by the side of one of the railings, was sounded. The cook answered it, but no one was there save the goat and kids, with their heads bent down towards the kitchen window. It was thought that some boy had rung for them; but they were watched, and the old goat was seen to hook one of her horns into the wire and pull it. This is too much like reason to be ascribed to mere instinct.
P. Wakefield, in his 'Instinct Displayed,'[201] gives two separate cases of an intelligent manœuvre performed by goats. On both occasions two goats met on a ridge of rock with a precipice on each side, and too narrow to admit of their passing one another. One of these cases occurred on the ramparts of Plymouth Citadel, and was witnessed by 'many persons;' the other took place at Ardenglass, in Ireland. 'In both these instances the animals looked at each other for some time, as if they were considering their situation, and deliberating what was best to be done in the emergency.' In each case one of the goats then 'knelt down with great caution, and crouched as close as it could lie, when the other walked over its back.' This manœuvre on the part of goats has also been recorded by other writers, and is not so incredible as it may at first sight appear, if we remember that in their wild state these animals must not unfrequently find themselves in this predicament.
Mr. W. Forster, writing from Australia, gives me the following account of the intelligence of a bull:—
A rather tame bull, bred of a milch cow, used to puzzle me by being found inside a paddock used for cultivation, and enclosed by a two-railed fence, of which the lower rail was unusually high. At last I saw the animal lie down close to the fence, and roll over on his back, with four legs in the air, by which proceeding he was inside the paddock. I never knew another beast perform this feat; and although it must have been often done in the presence of a number of cows, not one of them ever imitated it, though they would all have unquestionably followed the bull through an opening in the fence, or by the slip-rails.
Mr. G. S. Erb, writing from Salt Lake City, gives me an interesting account of the sagacity displayed by the wild deer of the United States in avoiding gun-traps, which, except for the cutting of the string, to which the teeth of the animal are not so well adapted, is strikingly similar to the sagacity which we shall see to be displayed in this respect by sundry species of Carnivora. He says:—
My method was this: I would fell or cut down a maple tree, the top of which they are very partial to; and as the ground was invariably covered with snow to the depth of 12 inches, food was scarce, and the deer would come and browse, probably from hearing the tree fall. I would place a loaded gun 20 feet from the top of the tree at which it was pointing; I would attach a line the size of an ordinary fish-line to a lever that pressed against the trigger; the other end of the line I would fasten to the tree-top. By this means the deer could not pass between the tree and the gun without getting shot, or at least shot at; but I never succeeded in killing one when my line was as large as a fish-line, i.e. about one-sixteenth of an inch in thickness. Commencing at the body of the tree on one side, the deer would eat all the tops to within 12 inches of the line, and then go around the gun and eat all on the other side, never touching the line. I tried this at least sixty times, always with the same result. Then I took a black linen thread, and had no difficulty in killing them, as it was so small and black that they could not distinguish it.