Part 5

It seems most likely that for ages the principal use of the dog which dwelt about the camps of the primitive people was found in the reserve food supply which they afforded their thriftless masters. When the hunting was successful the poor brutes had a chance to wax fat, and even in times of scarcity they managed to pick up enough food to keep them alive. When their masters were brought to a state of famine they were doubtless accustomed, as are many savages at the present time, to eat a portion of their pack. In the early conditions of humanity there was no other beast which could be made to serve so well this simple need in the way of provender. The dog is, in fact, the only animal ever domesticated which can be trusted through his own affections alone to abide with his master in the endless changes of camp and the rapid movements of flight and chase which characterized men before their housed state began. In a certain curious way the use of dogs for food has served greatly to advance the development of these captives. When the savage was driven to feed upon his dogs he was naturally more willing to sacrifice the least intelligent and affectionate of them, delaying, to the point of extremity, the time when he would kill those which had endeared themselves to him. In this way for ages a careful though unintended process of selection was applied to these creatures, and to it we may fairly attribute, as many considerate naturalists have done, a large part of the intellectual--indeed, we may say moral--elevation to which they have attained.

When the place of the dog as the first and most intimate companion of man was affirmed in the rude way above described--when the savagery to which he was at first made free gradually enlarged to civilization, a number of special uses were found for the peculiar capacities of the creature. These varied in the different parts of the world, according to the peculiarities in the conditions of the masters. In high latitudes, where the ground is snow-covered during the winter season, dogs were used, as they are to this day, in dragging sleds. They were, indeed, perhaps the first animals which were harnessed to vehicles. When they were brought to serve this definite end, we may well believe that the stronger and more enduring individuals were spared in times of dearth for the reason that they were almost indispensable to their masters, and even the little forethought which we find among primitive peoples would lead to their preservation. Here again, doubtless, came in the process of unintended selection which has made the Esquimau sled-dog one of the most remarkable varieties of his kind.

Perhaps the most interesting of the early variations induced among dogs is that which has arisen from the pastoral habit. We do not know when this custom of keeping sheep in large flocks was first instituted, but it is evidently of exceeding antiquity, probably far older than the pyramids of Egypt. The custom could hardly have been instituted without help of the shepherd's mate, the sheep-dog. Although the creatures of this breed are probably in form very near to the original wild species whence our canines came, the variety has as regards its instincts been, by a process of education and selection, led very far away from the original stock.

The wild forefathers of this species were clearly natural born sheep-slayers, and the motive abides to this day in all the breeds which have the strength to assail our unresisting flocks. The spirit is so ingrained that even the most civilized of our house-dogs, which may for generations never have tasted blood and which show no disposition to attack the other animals of the barn-yard, cannot be trusted alone with sheep. When two or more of them are together the old instincts of the wild pack return, and they will slay with insensate brutality until they are fairly exhausted with their fury. Their behavior on such occasions reminds one of the actions of their masters when possessed with the blind rage of a mob. Yet in the shepherd-dog we find this ancestral motive, once a large part of the life of the creature, so overcome by education and selection that they will not only care for a flock with all the devotion which self-interest can lead the master to give to the task, but they will cheerfully undergo almost any measure of privation in order to protect their charges from harm. The annals of shepherd districts, especially those where winter snows fall deeply, as in Scotland, abound in anecdotes of a well-attested nature which show how profoundly the dogs which tend the flocks are imbued with the love of the animals committed to their care. This affection is more curious for the reason that it is never in any measure returned by the sheep. To them the custodian is ever a dreaded overseer. He seems to bring to them nothing but the memories of danger derived from the experience which their species acquired in far-away times.

It is very interesting to note the behavior of a young shepherd-dog when he is first brought in contact with a flock. It is easy to see that he has an amazingly keen interest in the sheep. He regards them with an attention which he gives to no other living things, except perhaps his master. Out of a litter of well-bred pups belonging to this variety, the greater part will at once assume a curatorial attitude toward a flock. They will show a disposition to keep them together, and will seize on an individual only in case he undertakes to break away. They will generally use no more force than is necessary to reduce the recalcitrant to order. They arrest him by catching hold of the leg or fleece, and rarely seize hold of the throat, which other dogs, led by their inherited instincts, are apt at once to assail. Very rarely does a shepherd-dog of good ancestry, even at the outset of his career, attack a sheep in a way which shows that the ancient proclivities have been revived in his spirit. Even then a little remonstrance, or at most a slight castigation, is pretty sure to turn him from his evil ways. If we could measure in some visible manner the psychic peculiarities of animals, we would be led to regard this great change in the instincts of the dog, which has been brought about by his use in herding, as perhaps the most momentous transformation which man has ever accomplished in any creature, including himself; for none of our own inherited savage traits are so completely sublated at the time of our birth as is this old and sometime dominant slaying motive in the shepherd-dog.

With the advancing differentiation of human occupations and amusements, our breeds of dogs have, by more or less deliberate selection, been developed until by form and instincts they fit a great variety of purposes. Some of these pertain to industrial work, but the greater portion are related to the sports or fancies of men. The turnspit was bred for its short legs and small, compact body, and was serviceable in those treadmills of the hearth which have long since passed out of use, but which were for centuries features in our kitchens.

The massive type of bull-dogs, characterized by heavy frames and an indomitable will, appears to have been brought about by a process of selection having for its unconscious end the development of a breed which should render the herdsman of horned cattle something like the assistance which the shepherd-dog gave to those who had charge of flocks. In the more primitive state of our bulls and cows the creatures were much wilder than at present, and were generally kept, not in enclosed pastures, but on unfenced ranges. In these conditions the care taken needed the help which the ancestors of our modern bull-dog afforded. The tasks which the animal was called on to perform were of a ruder nature than those which were allotted to the shepherd-dog. Their business was to conquer the unruly beast. They were taught to seize the muzzle, and by the pain they thus inflicted they could subdue even the fiercer small bulls of the ancient type of form. From this original use the cattle-dogs were turned to the brutal sport of bull-baiting, a rude diversion which was indulged in by our ancestors for centuries, and has only disappeared in our less cruel modern days. Bred for the bull-ring, these dogs acquired the formidable strength and ferocity under excitement which made their name a terror and their qualities a satirical embodiment of the ruder traits which characterized the British folk.

The training which instituted the breed of bull-dogs was evidently much less continuous and effective than that which developed the shepherding variety. The use for the creature in the care of herds has passed away. In the older parts of the world cattle are kept only in enclosures; and where, as on our frontier, they still range over unbounded fields, they are guarded by horsemen who do not need the assistance of dogs to control the movements of the herds. No longer serviceable either in economies or sports, the breed of true bull-dogs is rapidly disappearing. As we may often observe in other fields of development, the peculiarities of this breed are now under the control of fancy, and the blood is being led far away from its old characteristics. The bull-terrier and other varieties, which retain something of the form and of the solemn demeanor which characterized their ancestors, but which are too small to assail horned cattle, mark the vanishing stages of this great stock, which will soon be known only in memory. The history of this peculiar herd-dog shows us how marvellously pliant the body and mind of this species has become under the conditions of civilization. The rude process of unconscious selection, acting without steadfastness of purpose or rationally developed skill, serves to sway the qualities of the animal this way or that to meet the ever-changing requirements of use or fancy. A similar selection in the case of our horned cattle has within a few centuries converted the cows into mild-mannered and sedentary milk-making machines, and has deprived the bulls of the greater part of their ancient savage humor. Owing to this change in the quality of their associates in captivity the dogs have also been led into great variations. The same type of interaction may be traced again and again in the isolated part of the world enclosed within our fences, as well as in the free realm of the wildernesses. All the individuals in the great host of life affect each other as do the soldiers of a well-organized army in the movements of a battle.

The shepherd-dog, the turnspit, and the bull-dog are the three remarkable variations of the canine blood which were brought about by a process of training and selection unconsciously directed to the institution of breeds suited to special economic ends. The other varieties of dogs have been shaped more distinctly for purposes of amusement or for the indulgence of mere fancy. The several varieties of hounds, harriers, beagles, pointers, setters, terriers, etc., have been designed to meet a dozen or more variations in the conditions of the chase. The marvellously complete way in which special peculiarities have been developed in mind and body makes this field of domestic culture the most fascinating subject of inquiry to the naturalist. The ordinary fox-hound has had his inheritances determined so as to fit him for pursuing a small animal which can rarely be kept in view during its flight, and which can only be followed by the odor it leaves in its trail, so these creatures run almost altogether under guidance of their sense of smell. The stag-hound, on the other hand, pursues a relatively large animal which cannot well be followed by the nose, at least with any speed; they therefore trust almost altogether to vision in their chase. The packs which hunt otters have developed the swimming habit and an array of instincts which fit them especially for this peculiar sport. If space allowed we could note at least a dozen divisions of the group of hounds or chasing dogs, each of which has developed a peculiar assemblage of qualities, more or less precisely adapted to some particular game.

Perhaps the most special adaption which man has brought about in his domesticated animals is found in our pointers and setters. In these groups the dogs have been taught, in somewhat diverse ways, to indicate the presence of birds to the gunner. Although the modes of action of these two breeds are closely related, they are sufficiently distinct to meet certain differences of circumstances. The peculiarities of their actions, it should be noted, are altogether related to the qualities of our fowling-pieces. These have been in use, at least in the form where shot took the place of the single ball, for less than two centuries, and the peculiar training of our pointers and setters has been brought about in even less time. It seems likely, indeed, that it is the result of about a hundred and fifty years of teaching, combined with the selection which so effectively works upon all our domesticated creatures. It thus appears that this peculiar impress upon the habits of the hunting-dog is the result of somewhere near thirty generations of culture.

Although, as has been often suggested, the pointing or setting habit probably rests upon an original custom of pausing for a moment before leaping upon their prey, which was possibly characteristic of the wild dog, it seems to me unlikely that this is the case, for we do not find this habit of creeping on the prey among our more primitive forms of dogs nor the wild allied species as a marked feature. All the canine animals trust rather to furious chase than to the cautious form of assault by stealthy approach and a final spring upon their prey, as is the habit with the cat tribe. Granting this somewhat doubtful claim that the induced habits of these dogs which have been specially adapted to the fowling-piece rest upon an original and native instinct, the amount of specialization which has been attained in about thirty generations of care remains a very surprising feature, and affords one of the most instructive lessons as to the possibilities of animal culture.

It is an interesting fact that the variation of a spontaneous sort, which is now taking place in our pointers and setters, is considerable. It is, perhaps, more distinctly indicated here than in any other of the breeds which are characterized by peculiar qualities of mind. All those familiar with the behavior of these strains of dogs have observed the high measure of individuality which characterizes them. I have recently been informed by a friend, who is a hunter and a very observing naturalist, of one of these variations in the pointer's instinct, which may, by careful selection, possibly lead to a very useful change in the habits of the animal. Hunting the Virginia partridge in the tall grass on the sea-coast of Georgia, his dog found by experience that his master could not discern him when he was pointing birds, and that a yelp of impatience would put up the covey before the gun was ready for them. The sagacious dog, therefore, adopted the habit of backing away from the point where he first fixed himself, so that he, by barking, denoted the presence of the birds without giving them alarm. Although, in this first instance, the action is purely rational, and is indeed good evidence of singular discernment and contriving skill, it seems likely that by careful breeding it may be brought into the realm of pure instinct or inherited habit.

The great variation in habits which is taking place in those varieties of dogs which are immediately under the master's eye during all the process of the chase, is easily explained by the fact that these creatures are in a position to be immediately and constantly influenced during their most active, and therefore teachable state of mind, by the will of man. A pack of fox-hounds is, to a great extent, out of hand while engaged in the pursuit of their prey; but a pointer or setter, even when under extreme excitement, is almost completely mastered by the superior will. When we observe the extent to which human intelligence is affecting the qualities of our hunting-dogs, it is not surprising to note that, in almost every district where there are peculiar kinds of game, varieties of the dog are developing which are especially adapted to its pursuit. Thus, in the parts of North America where the raccoon abounds, a variety of hunting-dog is in process of development which has a singular assemblage of qualities which fit it for this peculiar form of the chase. Although as yet "coon-dogs" have not been cultivated for a sufficient time to acquire distinct physical characteristics, their habits exhibit a larger range of specialization than those of any other breed of sporting dogs.

In those parts of the Americas where peccaries are hunted, the dogs used in their pursuit have learned to beware of assaulting the pack which they have brought to bay, and instead of indulging in the instinct which leads them into that way of danger and of certain death, they circle round the assemblage, compelling them to show front on every side and so to remain stationary until the hunters come up. Perhaps a score of similar specializations in the modes of action of our dogs which are employed in the chase could be recited; but as they all lead us to one conclusion--which is to the effect that these creatures are, as far as their mental powers are concerned, like clay in the hands of the potter--we may pass them by for some considerations which appear to have escaped the attention of writers who have discussed the problems of canine intelligence.

The singular elasticity as regards both mental and physical qualities which the dog exhibits, may well be compared with the other conditions which we find in certain of our domesticated animals, as, for instance, in the horse, where the mind shows but slight changes, and where the body has proved far less plastic than among dogs. The readiness with which the proportions of the dog may, by the breeder's art, be made to vary, is probably due to the fact that the group to which this creature belongs is one of relatively modern institution. It has the plasticity which we note as a characteristic of many other newly-established forms. The flexibility of mind is a concomitant of the carnivorous habit where creatures obtain their prey by the chase. Such an occupation tends to develop agile minds as well as bodies, and where exercised as it doubtless was by the ancestry of the dog, in the manner of pack hunting, where many individuals share in the chase, it is well calculated to insure a certain free and outgoing quality of the mind.

So long as our dogs were employed in the labor or the organized recreations of man, the tendency of the association with the superior being was in a high measure educative. They were constantly submitted to a more or less critical but always effective selection which tended ever to develop a higher grade of intelligence. With the advance in the organization of society the dog is losing something of his utility, even in the way of sport. He is fast becoming a mere idle favorite, prized for unimportant peculiarities of form. The effort in the main is not now to make creatures which can help in the employments of man, but to breed for show alone, demanding no more intelligence than is necessary to make the animal a well-behaved denizen of a house. The result is the institution of a wonderful variety in the size, shape, and special peculiarities of different breeds with what appears to be a concomitant loss in their intelligence. We often hear it remarked by those who are familiar with dogs that the ordinary mongrels are more intelligent and more susceptible of high training than the carefully inbred varieties, which are more highly prized because they conform to some thoroughly artificial standard of form or coloring. This is what we should expect from all we know concerning the breeding. Where for generations the dog-fancier has selected for reproduction with reference to the trifling and often injurious features of shape he seeks to attain, he naturally and almost necessarily neglects to choose the creatures in regard to their mental peculiarities. The result is that the breed tends to fall back in these regards to below the level of the ordinary cur, who makes his place in the affections of his owner because he has attractive or useful qualities of mind. It appears to me, in a word, that our treatment of this noble animal, where he is bred for ornament, is in effect degrading.

Although the formation of our fancy breeds does not serve to advance the development of those intellectual features which are the most interesting part of our dogs, the experiments have served to show the amazing physical plasticity of this species under the conditions of long domestication. The range in size between a tiny spaniel, such as those which are bred in Chihuahua, in northern Mexico, and the great Danes or mastiffs of northern Europe, is, perhaps, the greatest which has ever been attained in any mammal. In some cases the larger individuals belonging to the mastiff breed probably weigh nearly thirty times as much as their smaller kinsmen. Great as are these variations, they are only in form and bulk. They involve none of those curious changes in the number of bones of the skeleton which we may trace among the domesticated pigeons. We therefore turn from these results of breeders' fancy to consider certain of the mental qualities of dogs which have not come in our way in our review of the history of its relations to man.

First of all, we may note the fact that the friendly relations which dogs have become accustomed to form with men vary exceedingly in their range and activity. Perhaps in no other regard does the dog exhibit such distinctly human characteristics as in the way in which he meets the individuals of the mastering species. The gamut of their social relations with men is almost exactly parallel with our own. With from one to a dozen persons a dog may maintain an attitude of almost equally complete sympathy and mutual understanding. He may be on terms of acquaintanceship in varied degrees of familiarity with a few score others with whom he comes in frequent contact. Toward the rest of mankind he maintains a position of more or less complete distrust, which with experience may attain the indifference which men commonly show toward perfect strangers. If we observe a dog going along a much-frequented street, we may note that his relations to the people are substantially those which the folk have to each other. He shows as they do a certain consideration for the individuals he encounters, gives them their due place, and yet holds to his own. It is particularly noticeable that he avoids all contact with the other passers--in fact a dog has to be much beside himself with rage or fear, or insane from disease, before he will break those bounds of personality which civilization has set up to guide the conduct of life.

The social culture of dogs appears to have gone to the point where they recognize the meaning of an introduction--at least as far as the sympathetic relations of that understanding are concerned. Almost any well-bred dog will submit to be presented by his master, or even by persons whom he knows but is not accustomed to obey, to a stranger to whom he has already exhibited some dislike. During the introduction he will submit to those formal exchanges of courtesy which he is accustomed to recognize as the indices of friendship. The impression of this understanding seems to be so permanent that on subsequent meetings the dog, though he may maintain his original dislike of the man who has been forced upon his acquaintance, will continue to treat him with a certain consideration, though it is often easy to see that it is a difficult matter for him to conform to the requirements of society. When we compare the conduct of dogs in these regards with the behavior of other animals, even highly domesticated forms, we perceive how marvellously successful has been man's unconscious effort to mould this creature on his own nature.

Another extremely human characteristic of our canine friends is shown in their susceptibility to ridicule. Faint traces of this quality are to be found in monkeys and perhaps even in the more intelligent horses, but nowhere else save in man, and hardly there, except in the more sensitive natures, do we find contempt, expressed in laughter of the kind which conveys that emotion, so keenly and painfully appreciated. With those dogs which are endowed with a large human quality, such as our various breeds of hounds, it is possible by laughing in their faces not only to quell their rage, but to drive them to a distance. They seem in a way to be put to shame and at the same time hopelessly puzzled as to the nature of their predicament. In this connection we may note the very human feature that after you have cowed a dog by insistent laughter you can never hope to make friends with him. A case of this kind is fresh in my experience. A year or two ago I was imprudent enough to laugh at a very intelligent dog in my neighborhood, he having unreasonably assailed me at my house-door, where he had been left for a long time to wait while his owner was within and had thereby been brought into an unhappy state of mind. Sympathizing with his situation, I preferred to laugh him out of his humor rather than to beat him with my stick. I regret I did not take the other alternative, for I made the poor brute my implacable enemy by my pretence of contempt for him. I am inclined to think that if I had beaten him the matter could have been arranged afterward in a friendly way.

Another very remarkable and I believe hitherto unnoticed likeness between the mind of dogs and that of man is found in the fact that these dumb beasts, unlike all other inferior animals, except, perhaps, some of the more intelligent species of monkeys, will learn lessons from isolated experiences. In this regard they are indeed quite as apt as the lower kinds of men. Thus a dog who has had an unsavory or painful experience with a skunk or a porcupine is apt to keep away from these creatures for a long time thereafter. Where, as is not infrequently the case, a cur takes to eating eggs, a single dose of tartar emetic concealed in an egg which is placed where he can readily find it, is apt to effect an immediate and complete reform. This ready learning from experience is almost the gist of our human quality--at least on the intellectual side of it.

Perhaps the greatest success to which man has attained in his education of the dog is to be found in the measure in which he has overcome the fierce rage which clearly characterized the ancestors of this creature when they first felt the mastering hand. The reader cannot understand the intensity of the rage motive in the carnivora unless he has studied some of these brutes in their wild state, where from the time in the remote ages when they first began to take on the qualities of their species they have survived and won success by the fury of their assault. In almost all our breeds of dogs this primal ferocity has been overlaid by the various motives of rationality, sympathy, and conventional demeanor, until one may live half a lifetime with well-bred dogs without a chance to see the demon which we have buried in their breasts, as we have in our own, beneath a host of civilizing influences. It is rare indeed in our day that a dog, unless insane, will bite a human being. The most of their assaults are pure bluster, mere pretence of fury, as is shown by the fact that if, carried away by their pretence, they are led to use their teeth, it is usually a mere sham assault, having no semblance of the effectiveness of true combat.

Something of the pristine fury of the primitive dogs may still be noted in a certain brutal variety of watch-dogs which are still to be found in parts of continental Europe. The best types of this breed which I have ever seen are to be found among the dogs which are kept to guard the quarries of Solenhofen, in Bavaria, whence come all the fine lithographic stones which are so extensively used in printing. These quarries are scattered over several square miles of untilled country, and the separate pits are to be numbered by the score. As much valuable stone is necessarily left over night in the quarries, their care is confined to packs of watch-dogs which are turned loose at night and appear as if by instinct to spend the hours of darkness in prowling over the territory. Such is their size and ferocity that it takes a sturdy beggar to face them. I remember inadvertently disturbing one of these brutes from sleep, in the strong cage where he was confined, and I have never beheld such a picture of blind fury as he exhibited. I had not come within twenty feet of him, and was merely moving past his place of confinement; yet he sprang to the grating and strove with his teeth to break his way through the bars. I thought the animal must be mad, but his keeper assured me that such was his ordinary state of mind and that the humor was common to all the breed; even the masters dwelt in fear of them. Ordinarily the only exhibitions of the innate ferocity of our dogs are to be seen in their combats with each other, when for a time the creatures return to their primitive state of mind. Even these occasional exhibitions of fury are not found among all breeds of dogs, and among many individuals even of the combative strains of blood the motive of battle appears to have quite passed away.

In antithesis to the old Ishmaelitic humor of our primitive dogs, man has developed a singular, sympathetic, and kindly motive in these creatures. From the point of view of the dog's education we must not set too much store by his affection for his master. This kind of devotion of one being to another is displayed elsewhere in the animal kingdom, though it is more common among birds than among mammals. We find traces of it in the greater part of our domesticated creatures or in those which we have individually adopted from the wilderness. It is a part of the great sympathetic motive, which, originating far down in the series of animals, increases as they gain in the scale of being, until it reaches the highest level it has yet attained in spiritually minded men. The eminent peculiarity in the case of a dog is that the very centre of his life is formed of the affections, which are evidently the same as those which rule the days of the most cultivated men. To him these elements of friendliness are absolutely necessary to a comfortable existence. If by chance he becomes separated from his master and the other people with whom he is familiar, his bereavement is intense; but in most cases, at the end of a day or two, he is compelled to form new bonds, and he sets about the task in an exceedingly human way. I dwell in a town where dogs abound and where the frequent coming and going of the people puts many of the creatures astray. Perhaps as often as once a week, almost always late in the evening, one of these unhappy lost ones seeks to make friends with me. His advances toward this end always begin by his dogging my footsteps at a little distance. If I do not repulse him he will come nearer until he has made sure of my attention. A friendly word will bring him to my hand; but his behavior is never effusive, as it would be if he had found his rightful owner, but mildly propitiative and with a touch of sadness. There is, it seems to me, no other feature in the life of the dog which tells so much as to his moral nature as his conduct under these unhappy circumstances.

In the long catalogue of human qualities which characterize our thoroughly domesticated dogs, we must not fail to take account of their sense of property. In this the creature differs from all other of our domesticated animals. It is a common characteristic of mammals, both in their wild and tame state, that they feel a motive of ownership in the food which they have captured or in the den which they have made their lair; but beyond these narrow personal limits we see no evidence of any sense of ownership in land or effects. We readily observe, however, that our household dogs not only know the chattels of their master and distinguish them from those of other people, but they also learn to recognize the bounds of their house-lot or even of a considerable farm. When a dog, even of a militant quality, enters on territory which he does not feel to belong to him, he is at once a very different creature as compared to his condition when he is on his own land. He treads warily and will accept without dispute an order to take himself off. A perception of this sort indicates an extraordinary amount of sympathy and discernment. It requires us to assume that the creature has a good sense of topography and that he observes closely the various acts, none of them perhaps very indicative, which go to show the limits of his master's claims.

Although the mental qualities of our highly domesticated dogs are singularly like those of their masters, the likeness going to the point that the household pet is apt to have acquired something of the general character of the people with whom he dwells, there are many suggestive differences arising from failures of development which are in the highest measure interesting to those who study the species. We note, in the first place, that although for ages in contact with the constructive work which occupies his masters, the dog shows no tendency whatever to essay any undertakings of this nature. He is quite alive to considerations of personal comfort and is particularly fond of a warm bed; yet, except for a few unverified stories, we may say that there is no evidence whatever to show that they ever try to improve their conditions by deliberately providing themselves with warm bedding. In no well-attested case has a dog shown any sense as to the nature of any mechanical contrivance. They will learn which way a door opens, and rarely if ever do they undiscerningly close it when it is slightly ajar and they wish to pass through the opening; but I have never been able to observe or obtain evidence to show that they would without teaching pull down a latch in the way in which a cat readily learns to do. Much as dogs have had to do with guns, they display no kind of interest in the arms except so far as they are tokens of sport to come. They connect the explosion with the capture of game, and will search for it in the direction toward which the barrel was pointed. I have not, however, been able to find that they know, as they might readily do, and as a crow would surely do, when the weapon was loaded and when empty. They show no interest in it, such as monkeys readily display toward any mechanical contrivance to which their attention has been directed. All these negative features indicate that the mechanical side of the canine mind is entirely undeveloped.

Although there is some evidence that the sense of number attains a measure of development in dogs, the ability to form mathematical conceptions of any kind appears to be very weak in this species. The fact that shepherd-dogs, in a way, keep an account of considerable flocks so that they will know when one is gone astray, can readily be explained on the supposition that they know their charges individually and not in sum. The absence of arithmetical capacity is, however, less important than the lack of mechanical sense, for the reason that such incapacity is also common in the lowest races of men. Although dogs, as before noted, quickly and clearly acquire a notion of property rights in all which pertains to their owner's holdings, they appear never to extend their sense of their own personal possessions beyond the original limit to which they had attained when the species was domesticated. The creature feels a sense of personal property in his food and in his sleeping-place, but appears not to extend his conception of individual rights beyond these primitively established limits.

All our well-bred household dogs quickly learn certain bodily habits which are necessary to make them acceptable members of a household. These habits are not well affirmed by inherited instinct, but the ease with which the instruction is acquired shows that they have become prone to submit to such regulations. Culture on this line rests upon a primal instinct, originating we know not how, which leads a number of wild animals to conceal their excrement. On the other hand, these creatures exhibit no sense of modesty, though that, in a more or less complete measure, is characteristic of all human tribes whatsoever.