The Minds and Manners of Wild Animals: A Book of Personal Observations

by William T. Hornaday

"His courage had not forsaken him, but his strength had. He was no longer the proudly aggressive wild beast he had been. He had reached his limit. The terrible ordeal he had been through; the struggle incident to his capture; the rough, hot ride to the corral, hog-tied, on the hard floor of the dead-ax wagon; the outbursts of passion in the corral; the fighting and second roping in connection with the sawing off of his horns; the battle with the big horse; the ceaseless violence of his destructive assaults, first in the car, then in the crate, continued for three days and nights, had finally undermined even his iron frame; so when at last he found himself free on the ground, he presented a truly pitiful picture.

"With his head bent to one side and back curved, with one ear up and the other down, and with a dejected, helpless expression on his face, he hobbled wearily away, barely able to step without falling. Slowly he made his way to the river, waded in, drank, crossed to the far side, staggered laboriously up the low bank, and lay down. The next day he was found in the same spot,—dead."

THE DEFENSE OF THE HOME AND FAMILY. Any man who is too cowardly to fight for his home and country deserves to live and die homeless and without a country.

With this subject of courage the parental and fraternal affections of wild animals are inseparably linked. The defense of the home and family unit is the foundation of all courage, and of all fighting qualities in man or animals. The gospel of self-defense is the first plank in the platform of the home defenders. Obviously, the head of a family cannot permit himself to be knocked out, because as the chief fighter in the Home Defense League it is his bounden duty to preserve his strength and his weapons, and remain fit.

In the days of the club, the stone axe and the flint arrow-head, men were few and feeble, and the wild beasts had no cause to fear extermination. Tooth, claw and horn were about as formidable as the clumsy and inadequate weapons of man. The wild species went on developing naturally, and some mighty hosts were the result.

But gunpowder changed all that. In the chase it gave weak men their innings beside the strong. Man could kill at long range, with little danger to himself, or even with none at all. And then in the wild beast world the great final struggle for existence began. Man's flippant phrase,—"the survival of the fittest,"— became charged with sinister and deadly meaning.

But for Mother Love among wild creatures, species would not multiply, and the earth soon would become depopulated. In the entire Deer Family of the world, the annual shedding of all horns is Nature's tribute to motherhood in the herd. A buck deer or a bull moose is a domineering master—so long as his antlers remain upon his head. But with the approach of fawn-bearing time in the herd, down they go. I have seen a bull elk stand with humbly lowered head, and gaze reproachfully upon his fallen antlers. The dehorned buck not only no longer hectors and drives the females, but in fear of hurting his tender new velvet stubs he keeps well away from the front hoofs of the cows. The calves grow up quite safe from molestation within the herd.

It may be set down as a basic truth that all vertebrate animals are ready to defend their homes and their young against all enemies that do not utterly outclass them in size and strength. Of course we do not expect the pygmy to try conclusions with the giant, but at the same time, wild creatures have their own queer ways of defense and counter-attack, and of matching superior cunning against superior force. But now, throughout the animal world, the fear of man is paramount. Nearly all the wild ones have learned it. It is only the enraged, the frightened or the cornered bear, lion, tiger or elephant that charges the Man with a Gun, and seeks to counter upon him with fang and claw before it drops. The deadly supremacy of the repeating rifle that kills big game at half a mile, and the pump shotgun that gets five geese out of a flock, are well recognized by the terrorized big game and small game that flies before the sweeping pestilence of machine guns and automobiles.

THE FIGHTING CANADA GOOSE. In essaying to illustrate the home defense spirit, my memory goes out to one truculent and fearless Canada goose whose mate elected to nest in a horribly exposed spot on the east bank of our Wild-Fowl Pond. The location was an error in judgment. As soon as the nest was finished and the eggs laid therein, the goose took her place upon the collection, and the gander mounted guard.

There were so many hostiles on the warpath that he was kept on the qui vive during all daylight hours. At a radius of about twenty feet he drew an imaginary dead-line around the family nest, and no bird, beast or man could pass that line without a fight. If any other goose, or a swan or duck, attempted to pass, the guardian gander would rush forward with blazing eyes, open beak, wings open for action, and with distended neck hiss out his challenge. If the intruder failed to register respect, and came on, the gander would seize the offender with his beak, and furiously wing-beat him into flight. That gander was afraid of nothing, and his courage and readiness to fight all comers, all day long, caused visitors to accord him full recognition as a belligerent power.