Ants are, of the entire insect world, probably the most gifted home-finders. Time and again have I tested them in this, sometimes taking them what must have been, to these little creatures, enormous distances from their nests before freeing them. Of course the ants experimented with were marked, otherwise I could not have watched them successfully. When an ant is taken into new surroundings and set free, it at first runs here and there and everywhere. As soon, however, as it regains its equanimity and recovers from its fright, it turns toward home. At first it proceeds slowly, every now and then climbing tall blades of grass, and from these high places viewing the surrounding country in search of landmarks. As soon as it arrives among scenes partially familiar to it, it ceases to climb grass-blades or weeds, and accelerates its pace. When it arrives among well-known and accustomed surroundings it runs along at its utmost speed, and fairly races into its nest.
The burying beetle has a regular abode, to which it invariably returns after performing the offices of mortician to some defunct bird, beast, or reptile. This insect grave-digger, by the way, is remarkably expert at its business, and will bury a frog or a bird in a very short time. As soon as it has buried the dead animal and deposited its eggs, it returns to its domicile beneath some log or stone.
Some snakes likewise are exceedingly domestic, and have their regular dens, to which they resort on occasions. The homing sense seems to be rather highly developed in them, for they can find their way back to their dens from great distances. I have had under observation for the past three years a garden snake, locally known as a "spreading viper"; this snake was brought to me by a friend[105] when it was only a foot long, so I have known her (for it is a female) ever since her infancy. Owing to some antenatal accident, this reptile has a malformed head, so that I can readily recognize her at a distance of fifteen, twenty, or even thirty feet. Last year she reared her first brood of young, which I was fortunate enough to see with her on several occasions. Her den is on my lawn; and in the autumn of last year she conducted her brood to it, where they hibernated until spring. If I remember correctly, on the 29th of March she came out of her den accompanied by a dozen of her progeny, all but four (two pairs) of which I killed.[106] Snakes subserve a very useful purpose in the economy of nature, but it is well to keep them in limits, for, when very numerous, they become dangerous to young birds, especially after they have passed the second year.
With the exception of the anthropoid apes all mammals possess the homing sense in a higher or lower degree; this is true also of birds. Experiments with the nesting robin show conclusively that this bird can find its way back to its nest when carried fifty miles from its home and then set free among wholly unknown surroundings. The well-known exploits of the carrier-pigeon are so familiar that they scarcely need comment. On May 3, 1898, two carrier-pigeons, en route for Louisville, rested for a time at Owensboro, Kentucky; these birds had been set free at New Orleans, Louisiana. The duck and the goose sometimes have this sense very highly developed. I once knew a goose to travel back home after having been carried in a covered basket for the distance of eighteen miles. A drake and duck have been known to return to their home after being carried a distance of nine miles by railway. Instances of home-returning by dogs, cats, horses, etc., are of such common occurrence that I hardly need call attention to them; the following instance is so unique, however, that I will present it:—
In the fall of 1861, a gentleman of Vincennes, Indiana, visited his father at Lebanon, Kentucky; when this gentleman started to return home, his father gave him a yoke of young steers, which he drove, via Louisville, Kentucky, to Vincennes.
Shortly after his arrival at this last-mentioned town, the steers made their escape, swam the river at Owensboro, Kentucky, 160 miles below Louisville, Kentucky, and, in a week or so, were found one morning at the gate of their old home at Lebanon. Directed by their homing sense alone, these animals had made a journey of several hundred miles over a route they had never seen!
Fishermen are aware that certain fish choose localities for lurking-places, which they will share with no other fish. The black bass, and brook trout, and sturgeon, and goggle-eye are familiar examples of fish which have this habit.
On one occasion, I performed the following experiment: I took a black bass from its home near a sunken stump, and, after passing a short piece of thread through the web of its tail and knotting it, replaced it in the river, two miles below its lurking-place. The next day I saw it in its old home, clearly recognizable by the bit of thread which waved to and fro in the clear water as the fish gently moved its tail!
In an examination of phenomena such as have been discussed in this chapter, ay, throughout this book, we must lay aside the dogmatic assertions of our superstitious ancestors, who, to paraphrase Roscoe, "when awed by superstition, and subdued by hereditary prejudices, could not only assent to the most incredible proposition, but could act in consequence of these convictions, with as much energy and perseverance as if they were the clearest deductions of reason, or the most evident dictates of truth."[107]
It will take the human race many, many years to unlearn, and to recover from the effects of the superstitious cult of the shaman, who exists, not only among savages, but also in the most highly civilized races of the world! Superstition is the antithesis of knowledge; in fact, it is but another name for ignorance.