At one time among our ancestors it was accustomed to make much use of the larger hawks in hunting. Curiously enough this amusement, more refined and elaborated than any other form of the chase, has gradually fallen into disuse among Europeans. So far as I have been able to learn, the only region in which it is well preserved is in northern Africa, a country in which the custom was probably introduced from Spain during the occupancy of that peninsula by the Moors. From the literature of this art of hawking, even after we allow much for the exaggeration of unobservant men, it seems certain that the training of these fierce birds was carried to a point of singular perfection. The creatures learned to do their duty in a very skilful way, and they readily acquired habits of obedience, under circumstances of excitement, more perfect than those which we succeed in instilling in any animal but the dog. When we consider the natural qualities of the hawk, and note that when well trained he flew at only the designated game, and came back to the master when a bit of hide or other lure was thrown into the air as a signal, we may fairly believe that the creature displayed an extraordinary fitness for receiving instruction. The facts are the more remarkable because these hawks were not bred in cages, but were taken from the wild nests; so that there was none of that gradual accumulation of inheritances under the conditions of selection which have brought about the obedience of our really domesticated animals.
The remarkable way in which the art of hawking has disappeared from our civilization deserves more than a passing notice, though it appears to be inexplicable. It is evident that it was a tolerably ingrained habit, at least among the English-speaking people, for it has left a very deep impress upon the language. There are far more phrases derived from the custom than can be traced to any other of the sportsman's arts. At least one of these collocations of words which has escaped from the minds of grown people still holds a place among the boys of this country. When two lads are fighting we often hear the bystanders say, by the way of encouragement to one of the contestants, "Give him jesse." The use of this curious phrase prevails in all parts of the United States, but after much inquiry I have failed to find a trace of it preserved in England. There seems to be little doubt that these words are due to a custom of beating a hawk which failed to do its duty with the thongs or jesses by which it was attached to the wrist of the falconer. Giving another jesse thus came to be equivalent to giving a person a strapping.
The Bandit's Brood
Whatever may have been the reason for abandoning this beautiful and in a way noble sport, its disuse must be deemed most unfortunate by all the students of animal intelligence, for it has deprived us of precious opportunities in the way of observations on the mental peculiarities which exist in a most interesting group of birds. In these days, when there is a fancy for reviving the customs of our forefathers, it might be well for some persons of leisure to give their attention to restoring the arts of falconry. Enough of the practice and of the traditions is left to make it an easy task to reinstitute all the important parts of the custom. Moreover, those who essayed the matter would have access to a much greater range of rapacious birds than our forefathers, who had to content themselves with the limited number of wild species which inhabit the continent of Europe. Especially on our Western plains, where game-birds abound and the country lies wide open, sportsmen would find an admirable field in which to follow the bird they flew. Not only would the restoration of hawking give us a sport much more skilful and refined than the fox chase, but it would reintroduce the cultivation of the only creature which, having once been brought to the service of man, has been permitted to return to its ancestral wild life.
The most striking and by far the most interesting quality exhibited by our birds is found in their sympathetic motive. In this spiritual quality, so far as it relates to their own kind, the feathered creatures are clearly in advance of all other species, including even man. A single fact, one of great generality, will serve to make this statement clear. Among the birds we find the only cases of true marriage which are known in the animal kingdom. In the greater number of the species the union is for a season, but among many it is for life. In the case of certain varieties of paroquets, the union is so indissoluble that, according to common report, a report which seems much better verified than the most of those concerning the habits of animals, neither member of the pair will survive the death of the other. Man, with all his striving towards a better social state, has, as a whole, not yet attained to the enduring affection for the mate which is evinced by the greater part of the birds.
In this same connection, we may note that the æsthetic appreciation among the birds appears to have attained a far higher level than it has won in any other creatures. There can be little doubt that the exquisitely beautiful plumage, the unparalleled shapeliness of form and grace of carriage, as well as the melodies which are uttered by so many species, all owe their development to a process of sexual selection which has led the discerning females to prefer the more ornamental of the males who sought them as partners. If any one will examine the exquisite shapes and gradations of color which are exhibited in the tail of the peacock, or of the lyre-bird, or even the coloration of the game-cock, he may perhaps imagine how prodigious must be the development of the æsthetic sense in these species, in order that it may take account of every little betterment which leads towards more perfect beauty. As it will take the generations of æsthetes many generations before they are able to "live up to" the level of their culture which is attained by the peacock's tail, it is not unreasonable for us to hold that in the appreciation of simple beauty in form and in color, the birds are far ahead of ourselves. It must not be supposed that our æsthetic culture is to be reckoned below that of birds, though in our case the work embodies the delineation of ideas, while in the birds it is a matter of pure ornament. Nevertheless, taking the evidence which shows the way in which these creatures appreciate beauty in the three realms of form, color, and sound, it seems to me clear that while their intellectual life is low, their purely emotional experiences are probably more vivid than those of ordinary men.
As the joy of life is, in the main, even in ourselves the result of emotional experiences, we may fairly reckon, even on a priori ground, that the birds win a measure of happiness, though it be that of an unconscious kind, which is granted to no other living beings. Psychologically described, they might well be termed the group built for joy. Their bodies are, on the whole, the best constructed of all animals, except the insects. They suffer little from disease. We all see that their intercourse with each other is freer and merrier than that of other creatures. The wide range of their notes shows that in most forms they appreciate every little difference in the pleasure-giving changes of the day or the weather. They rejoice in the coming of each morning; they are sorrowful with the advent of each evening. They echo the distress of their kind in a readier way than any other forms. He is indeed a poor naturalist who overlooks this trait; for however deeply he may have delved, he has not won the jewel unless he appreciates this element of an unending joy which the bird-life continually offers him. From that life we may well believe that man is hereafter to derive some great and fruitful lessons.