Domesticated animals

by Nathaniel Southgate Shaler

It seems inevitable that man should play the part of a destroyer. It is his place to break down the ancient order determined by what we call natural forces and in its stead to set a new accord in which the economy of the earth will be in a great measure controlled by his intelligence. Even those who most keenly sympathize with the wilderness life, are not likely to object to the changes which are necessary to open the way for this new dispensation. They may fairly ask, however, that hereafter the displacement of the ancient life shall be brought about with foresight and with the exercise of the utmost care in minimizing the sacrifices which we are called on to make. Naturalists may fairly ask men to remember that each of these species which we are forced to destroy represents the toil and pains of unimaginable ages, and that when these creatures are swept away they can never be recovered. Whatever new species may come, by processes of evolution from the life which remains after we have done our will with the wilderness, we shall never see again the forms which have passed away.

It is the worst feature of the destruction which man is bringing upon the organic species that the assault is most effective on those varieties which are most interesting both from an intellectual and an economic point of view. To take only the case of the great birds which have recently been swept from the earth, we see clearly that we have with them lost precious opportunities for enlarging our understanding of nature and have at the same time been deprived of the chance to domesticate creatures which would most likely have proved of much economic value. With each of these species which disappears we lose what may be a precious chance of adding to the small store of animals or plants which may contribute to the well being of our kind. These considerations make it plain that it is our duty by our civilization, to do all in our power to save these species and at the same time to essay their domestication, for only when under the protection of man can they be regarded as insured from destruction.

The task of bringing wild creatures into our domestic fold is one of very varied difficulty. Many plants are easily reconciled to the conditions of our fields and gardens: they may be said to welcome the care of man which insures them some protection from the fierce contention with other life or with the elements to which they are exposed in their natural conditions. Only here and there is it necessary by careful breeding to develop domesticated habits to the point where the forms will endure culture. Where the task is, however, to make avail of some natural peculiarity which promises to be useful, but is not yet of economic value, it may require a hundred generations of careful selection to develop and fix desirable features. We are, however, in all cases sure in these half-animate species, the plants, that they will prove perfectly obedient to our will. It is otherwise, however, with wild animals. Here we have to deal with intelligences in which the most striking characteristic is an abiding fear of the master, and a general indisposition to submit to any other control than that of their native wild instincts. The measure in which this wilderness habit, bred of long contention with enemies, prevails in animals varies greatly. Some, as for instance the elephant, at once reconcile themselves to human association, and directly on being made slaves accept the mastery of their captors. Others, such as the zebra, remain for a lifetime possessed of their original savage nature. A large part of the labor which has been given to the work of domesticating by the breeder's art the score of mammalian species which man has won to his use has been devoted to this task of expelling the wilderness motives from these forms. The cases in which he has failed to accomplish this end are those in which the savage humor has persisted for so long a time that he has been forced to abandon his effort to subdue the stock.

It seems likely that at the present time we have acquired from the wilderness nearly all the animals which are capable of adoption by such brief and individual experiments as have won to us the species which constitute our flocks and herds. Our future gains will have to be made by far more deliberate and continuous endeavors. These tasks of the hereafter will have to be undertaken in a way which will insure a continuity of effort such as can only be attained by permanently organized associations which may continue their essays if needs be for centuries. The work should be done with two distinct ends in view: first, to determine what members of the wilderness life may be made to contribute to the needs of man; and, second, how far it is possible so to develop the intelligence of the lower animals in general as to make them better fitted for companionship with our kind. This last-named line of experiments needs to be undertaken not only with reference to varieties now wild, but also upon our most domesticated forms, for, as before remarked, we have not begun to explore the possibilities of intellectual gain, even in those species which have been the longest associated with us.

In considering a list of the creatures which might well be made the subjects of trial with a view to their domestication, we find ourselves at once embarrassed by the exceeding wealth of our opportunities. It is impossible within the limits of this article to treat, even in the catalogue way, a vast number of forms which commend themselves for experiment. Something of the richness of the field, however, may be judged by noting some of the more conspicuous forms, as we shall now proceed to do. Beginning with the insects, the lowest forms in the animal series which have proved in any sense domesticable, we note that wide as is this realm of life it offers but few opportunities such as the domesticator seeks. Of the million or more species in the group, only two, the honey-bee and the silkworm, have been won to man's use, and there is not another wild form which the naturalist can suggest as likely to prove a valuable captive. The only use which we are probably to find for these creatures is where, by some form of culture, we may induce predatory or parasitic species more effectively to do their destructive work on noxious forms of the class. So well fitted is this group for purposes of self-defence that however much man may interfere with the course of nature, he is not likely to sweep any of their multitudinous kinds from the earth, though experience clearly shows that by the methods above mentioned they may be greatly reduced.

It is among the vertebrate forms alone that we find animals which by their characteristics of body or of mind are well fitted to have an economic or social value. There alone are the qualities of flesh or of the external covering such as to make them in a high measure valuable, and the instincts of a nature to fit them for association in man's work. Even among these back-boned animals we find that the lower groups—the fishes, the amphibians, and the reptiles—promise little in the way of gains as compared with the higher groups, the birds and mammals; yet even among these inferior creatures we find certain forms which give promise of improvement under the care of man. Some of the fishes readily learn to come to any one from whom they may expect food, and they indicate in other ways that they are capable of a certain intellectual advance. The frogs and toads readily learn to recognize a master. Several of the larger members of the first-named forms could advantageously be bred so as to be very useful as food. The common hop toad of our gardens is an admirable helper in restraining the excessive development of certain slugs and insects. The tortoises and turtles contain a number of species which are edible, and many of the forms invite the breeder's care. It is, however, when we ascend in the type of vertebrates to the level of the birds that we find the great array of creatures which are worth considering as members of our civilization.

Nearly all the birds except those of prey and those which haunt the seas can easily be accustomed to man. A few of these species which have been reduced to captivity have not become sufficiently reconciled to the unnatural conditions to maintain their breeding habits. Even in these cases, however, it seems likely that in spacious aviaries, at least in climates to which they are accustomed, it will be possible to secure the continuous reproduction of the kind, on which all development by the breeder's art depends.

The ease with which most birds, except those of prey, may be reduced to domestication is due to the remarkable intensity of their sympathetic motives. In this regard the class is much more advanced than that of the mammalia to which we ourselves belong. Accustomed as they are to ceaseless and active intercourse with each other by means of their varied calls, largely endowed with the faculty of attention, and provided with fairly retentive memories, the birds are, on the average, nearer in the qualities of their intelligence to man than are many of the species in his own class. It was long ago remarked that the birds of remote islands, such as the Galapagos, which had never seen man, were at first not in the least afraid of him. It required, however, but a few generations of experience to show these creatures that the unfeathered biped was a singularly dangerous animal, and they at once and permanently adopted the habit of avoiding him. This incident of itself shows how quick birds are to learn certain large and important lessons. We see also the reverse of this education in fear in the rapid way in which birds become tame when they are secured from persecution. Wherever shooting is stopped over a considerable territory the birds rapidly become more tolerant of man's presence. Even among migratory species the individuals appear to learn that certain places where they are protected may be resorted to with safety.

Because of their freedom of flight it is in all cases difficult to bring our perching birds into such relations with the domiciles of man that they can be truly domesticated. The success, however, which has been attained in the case of the pigeons, which have been so far made captive by the change of their instincts that they never depart far from their cotes, seems to indicate that this tendency again to go wild is by no means ineradicable. In other instances it will probably disappear as it has in this by long-continued care in breeding. Our successes with the geese, ducks, and swans, all of which belong to genera characterized by the migratory habit, show how readily in the course of time the old native instincts may be subordinated to the will of man. Although the degree of the difficulty which will be encountered in taming many wild forms may be far greater than that which has been met in those which we have domesticated, there is no reason whatever to believe that in any case it will be insuperable.

While all the creatures of the wilderness may by the breeder's art be induced to vary in the conditions of captivity, the birds have shown themselves more plastic in our hands than any other animals. In almost every brood we find individuals possessing marked peculiarities of form or plumage. In their mental qualities also there is a like range of variation. Seizing upon these, the fancier can guide the quick succeeding generations so as to cause the form to depart in the course of a few years very far from its original aspect. With each step in this succession of changes the readiness with which the species responds to selective care increases. The results which have been attained in our barnyard fowl and with the pigeons show how admirably these creatures are fitted to obey the will of man when he has a mind to take charge of their destiny.