Prof. Richard L. Garner, who has spent much time in studying the language of animals, has attracted a great amount of attention through his special study of the anthropoid apes. He has lived among these animals in a steel cage in their native haunts and has used a phonograph to record their language. Prof. Garner told recently of an exceptionally intelligent ape, named Susie, whose home used to be at the Zoological Park, under the care of the Zoological Society, and he claimed that Susie could speak "in her own language" at least five words. They were "yes," "no," "protest," "satisfaction" and "contempt."

Mr. George Gladden, writing in the Outlook on the chimpanzee's voice, did not exactly commit himself as to his belief regarding this matter, but he says: "Now, although Mr. Engeholm (for four years in charge of the Primates House in the New York Zoological Park) has not been able to discover that his apes use any language, correctly speaking, he is confident that the chimpanzees Susie, Dick, and Baldy comprehend the definite meaning of many words, and that their minds react promptly when these words are addressed to them in the form of commands. This capacity is more highly developed in Susie than in any other of the apes in this particular group....

"It is difficult, of course, to determine from the commands which an animal will obey precisely how many words employed in these commands are plainly understood; but I have endeavoured to do this tentatively in the case of Mr. Engeholm's commands to Susie, all of which I have seen her obey repeatedly and promptly."

Mr. Gladden enumerates about forty-three commands which he claims to have seen Susie obey promptly. And he further states that the belief which many students of animal psychology hold that an animal gets more of the meaning of a command from the gesture which accompanies the command than he does from the actual words by which he is commanded, is false, and he adds, "as to this, I can testify that of the forty-three commands ... thirty-six may be, and generally are, unaccompanied by any gesture whatever. How, then, does Susie comprehend those commands unless through her understanding of the meaning of the words in which they are conveyed?"

The distinguished phrenologist Gall had a dog whose memory was remarkable, and he thoroughly understood words and phrases. "On this subject I have made," says Gall, "the following observations: I have often spoken intentionally of things which might interest my dog, avoiding the mention of his name, and not letting any gesture escape me which would be likely to arouse his attention. He always exhibited pleasure or pain suitable to the occasion, and by his conduct afterwards showed that he understood perfectly well."

Col. W. Campbell in his Indian Journal gives two remarkable instances of language and unity of work among animals which he saw at Ranee Bennore, while he was on a hunting trip. He witnessed, one morning, a striking case of wolfish generalship, which in his belief proved that animals are endowed to a certain extent not only with reason but are able to communicate their ideas to others. He was scanning the horizon one morning to see if any game was in sight when he discovered a small herd of antelopes feeding in a nearby field. In another remote corner of the field, hidden from the antelopes, he saw six wolves sitting with their heads close together as though they were in deep conversation.

He knew at once that they were also seeking venison for breakfast and he determined to watch them. He concealed himself behind a clump of bushes, and the wolves who had evidently already decided upon their mode of attack began their manœuvres: one remained stationary, while the other five crept to the edge of the field and one by one took the most advantageous positions, the fifth concealing himself in a deep furrow in the centre of the field.

The sixth, which had made no previous movements, dashed at the antelopes. The swift, graceful creatures, trusting in their incomparable speed, tossed their heads as if in disdain of so small an enemy and galloped away as though they were riding on the winds with their enemy far behind. But as soon as they reached the edge of the field, one of the hiding wolves sprang up and chased them in an opposite direction, while his fatigued accomplice lay down to recuperate. Again the light-heeled herd darted across the field, evidently hoping to escape on the opposite side, but here again they met another crafty wolf who chased them directly toward another of the pack. The chase had begun in earnest, the persecuted antelopes were driven from place to place, a fresh enemy springing up at every turn, till at last they became so terrorised with fear that they crowded together in the center of the field and began running around in diminishing circles.

During all this performance, the wolf which was hidden in a furrow in the centre of the field had not moved, although the antelopes had passed around and over him dozens of times. He well realised his time for action had not yet come and crouched closer and closer awaiting a signal from his fellow hunters to spring into their midst, and down one of the weakened antelopes.

At this point Col. Campbell shot one of the wolves, and the other five ran away and allowed the antelopes to escape. Surely no human combination could have shown greater reason and concerted action than was shown by the wolves under such conditions. Each had a particular post assigned, and evidently some means of communication was used in indicating their respective locations. Each had a definite part to play in the complex scheme—so that their language quite evidently expressed abstract ideas. That these ideas were carried out shows that the wolves were capable not only of laying ambitious plans for capturing prey, but of carrying them out as well.