Intelligence in Plants and Animals / Being a New Edition of the Author's Privately Issued "Soul and Immortality."

by Thomas G. Gentry

No bird of my knowledge possesses a larger amount of humor than the crow. I have known him to feign an attack upon a distant part of a field of newly-sprouted corn, which was being guarded by a farmer with his gun. When the latter would be drawn to that part of the field where the attack was to be made, the sagacious bird would manage to outwit him, slip around to the other side, drop down into the field and obtain a few tender sprouts before the farmer hardly knew what was going on. But he was always up and away at the opportune moment, and, perched upon a fence-rail, beyond the range of the gun, would enjoy one of his rollicking cawing laughs at the farmer’s expense. Crows that are tame have the sense of humor more keenly developed than their wild brethren of the fields and the woods. I once knew a tame crow that took great pleasure in annoying a dog that lived in the same family. Carlo, as the dog was called, was never so contented as when allowed to sleep the hours of the morning away, after a night’s carousal, in a quiet, sunny spot in the backyard. When the dog had become fast wrapped in the arms of the god of slumber, the crow would steal to his side, give his ear a sharp pull, and when the dog would awake and look around the crow would be busy in gleaning, the most unconcerned creature in the whole yard. Again and again would she annoy the poor animal, and always with the same evident sense of delight, which I could always read in the mischievous twinkle that lurked in her eyes, till the dog, bewildered and unable to account for such mysterious actions, would silently skulk away to other parts, where he hoped to be free from all intrusion. Even the mistress of the house was not exempt from her annoyance. She would carry off everything she could lay hold of, and always hid them away in one place, that is, in a large crevice on the top of the house between the peak of the roof and the chimney. One day the mistress’s spectacles disappeared. Search was instituted everywhere, but without effect. None knew better than the bird what the trouble was. While the search was going on, she busied herself in looking around, and seemed as desirous of finding the missing glasses as any member of the household. The look which the bird gave showed that she enjoyed the situation of affairs immensely, and considered it a fine joke that she had played upon her mistress. After a few days the lost spectacles were restored to their accustomed place, but no one ever positively knew how they came thither.

Domestic birds, as a rule, are remarkable for the generosity which the master-bird shows to his inferiors. He will scratch the ground, unearth some food, and then, instead of eating it himself, will call some of his favorites, and give them the delicacy for which he labored. But I have met with a few cases where the cock scratched as usual, called his wives, and, when they had gathered round him, ate the morsel himself. It was but a practical joke that he had perpetrated upon them, and that they felt it as such their looks only too strongly testified. There was a relish of delight in it for the cock, for the cackle, which he immediately gave, assured me of this fact as much as the laugh of a man could have done who had played such a joke upon one of his fellows.

Parrots are much given to practical joking, after the ways of mankind. A parrot, belonging to an aunt, had a bad habit of whistling for a dog, and then enjoying the animal’s bewilderment and discomfiture. She would call the cat, as her mistress was accustomed to do, and when puss would come, expecting some dainty article of food, she would call out in her severest tone, “Be off, you hussy!” and the cat would make all possible speed for a place of security, greatly to the amusement of the parrot from her perch in the cage. There have been known parrots that would play practical jokes upon human beings, but dogs and cats seem to be the principal victims of the parrot’s sense of humor.

Animals not only show their playfulness in such tricks as have been mentioned, but many of them are able to appreciate and take part in the games played by children. When I was a boy I knew a dog, a species of greyhound, which was an accomplished player at the well-known game called tag, or touch. Quite as much enthusiasm was displayed by the animal as by any of the human players. He would dart away from the boy who happened to be “touch” with an anxiety that almost appeared terror. It was an impossibility to touch the clever canine player; but he was a generous creature, with a strong sense of justice, and so, when he thought that his turn ought to come, he would stand still and wait quietly to be touched. His manner of touching his play-fellows was always by grasping the end of their trousers with his teeth, and as it was impossible for the boy to stop when so seized in full course, the dog was often jerked along the ground for some little distance.

Hide-and-seek is a game which is often learned and enjoyed by many animals. I have often been an interested spectator of the play in which two dogs were the participants. It was as exciting as such a diversion could possibly be between two children. For an hour at a time I have watched the fun, and the players seemed not to abate the least jot or tittle from their ardor and enthusiasm. They were apparently as fresh then as at the beginning. In due time the game ceased as if by mutual consent, but the animals did not seek some cool, quiet spot for comfort and rest, but started off to the woods for some further diversion, from which their voices were soon heard, telling that they were in pursuit of a rabbit or the ignoble ground-hog.

We have far from exhausted the list of examples at hand to show that the lower animals possess a sense of humor. But what use, it may be asked, can the capacity of humor subserve in the next world? Much the same, I presume, that it subserves in this. There are some in this world in whom the sense of humor is absolutely wanting. Estimable as they may be in character, they are just solemn prigs, and I should be very sorry to resemble them in the world, whither, it is hoped, all life tendeth.

Pride, Jealousy, Anger, Revenge and Tyranny, while not very pleasing characteristics, belong, as such, to the immaterial, and not to the material, part of man. That the lower animals possess these qualities will be seen from what follows. Hence the inference to be drawn from that fact must be quite obvious.

Taking these characteristics in order, Pride, or Self-esteem, is developed as fully in many animals as in the proudest of the human race. Most conspicuously is this shown in animals which herd together. There is always one leader at the head, who will not permit any movement to be made without his order, and who resents the least interference with his authority. This is particularly the case with the deer, the horse and the ox. Even when these animals are domesticated, and the habits of their feral life have materially changed, the feeling of pride exists to the fullest extent.

Whoever has carefully watched and studied the inhabitants of a farm-yard cannot fail to have observed that the cows have their laws of precedence and etiquette as clearly defined as those of any European Court. Every cow knows her own place and keeps it. She will never condescend to take a lower, nor would she be allowed to assume a higher. A new-comer in a farm-yard has about as much chance of approaching the rack at feeding-time as a new boy at school has of getting near the fire on a cold winter day. But as the young calf increases in growth, and is nearing maturity, she is allowed to mingle with her companions on tolerably equal terms. Should, however, a younger animal than herself be admitted, it is amusing to see with what gratification she bullies the new-comer, and how much higher she ranks in her own estimation when she finds she is no longer the junior.

But should the fates be propitious, and she should arrive at the dignity of being senior cow, she never fails to assert that dignity on every occasion. When the cattle are taken out of the yard to their pasture in the morning, and when they are returned to it in the evening, she will not allow any except herself to take the lead. An instance is recorded where the man in charge of a herd of cows would not permit the “ganger,” as the head cow is often called, to go out first. The result was that she refused to go out at all. Therefore, to get her to go out of the yard, the man had to drive all the other cows back again, so that she might take her proper place at the head of the herd.