Part 8

“Stick out your tongue.”

“Stretch out like a hobby horse.”

I showed this list of written commands to Mr. Sigsbee, but instead of following my instructions he urged me to give them myself. It is still a source of surprise to me that this horse, while blindfolded and with no directive cues from his master (Mr. Sigsbee stood beside me and neither moved nor spoke), responded appropriately to these commands. It was necessary for me to repeat only one command—the last one.

7. At my direction Mr. Sigsbee tied the white strip of cloth to the blindfolded horse’s left hind leg, and the red cloth to his right foreleg. At the end of this performance he cautioned Captain again and again not to forget that the “white rag is on your hind leg—here (patting the left hind leg), and the red rag is on your foreleg.” After much patting of both legs and many warnings against forgetting, Mr. Sigsbee withdrew and allowed me to decide upon the command. I called for the red strip, and Captain obeyed without displaying the least hesitation. It will be remembered that on a previous occasion he found the red strip on his hind leg.

8. The blindfold was now removed, and was not reapplied. Correct responses were obtained to the commands, “Bring me a silver dollar” and “Bring me a quarter.” Mr. Sigsbee stood where it was impossible for him to direct Captain’s choice by pointing with eyes, facial muscles or body.

9. I arranged the numerals in the number rack in the following order: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0. Mr. Sigsbee stood behind the horse and gave the following command:

“How many people are there in the front row?”

Mrs. Hamilton was the only “audience” for the performance, and sat in the front row from the moment when Captain was brought upon the stage. The horse responded to the command by advancing to the railing over the footlights, extending his head and neck far forward and examining the front row of seats. He followed this by backing vigorously and pulling number “1” from the rack. In a flash of inspiration I asked, “How many people are there in the second row?” Captain walked forward again, looked into the second row and shook his head. I am glad that I have Mrs. Hamilton and my note book to remind me that this occurred when I was wide awake and in a very critical frame of mind. Mr. Sigsbee was standing to my left and the horse was to my right and several feet in front of us when this occurred. I expressed my unwillingness to believe my own senses, and Mr. Sigsbee quite seriously expressed the opinion that the horse had been influenced by the master’s mind to shake his head.

10. I eliminated Mr. Sigsbee by placing him where I could keep my eye on him, but where he was outside the horse’s field of vision. Then I commanded Captain to bring me number “6” from the rack. He obeyed and followed this by bringing me “4,” “9,” and “7.”

11. I exchanged “1” and “4” and commanded Captain to tell me how many people were in the front row. He brought me number “1.”

12. Mr. Sigsbee, at my direction, gave Captain the number, “30,724.” The numbers in the rack were in the unfamiliar order, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0.” By obstructing Captain’s view of his master I was able to eliminate the possibility of directing gaze-cues from master to horse. Long experience with my quadruple choice method has enabled me to control the movements of my ocular muscles, and to depend a good deal on peripheral vision, so that I am sure that I did not involuntarily direct the horse during this test.

Captain promptly pulled “3” from the rack, pulled “8” part way out and let go before he had fully withdrawn it, then withdrew “0,” “7,” “2,” and “4” in rapid succession.

13. I put “4,” “1,” and “8” on the floor, sent Mr. Sigsbee to the rear of the stage and gave the following commands:

“Two times nine.”

“Seven times twelve.”

“Nine times nine.”

The horse took up “1” and “8” in the response to the first command, and dropped them. I arranged the three numbers in the same order in which they lay on the floor before the first command was given (“4” was at the left end, “1” in the middle and “8” at the right end.) The second command was given, and answered correctly, without hesitation. I now reversed the positions of “4” and “8” and gave the third command, which was also answered correctly.

14. After I had rearranged the colored strips on the color rack so that black and white were near the middle (it will be remembered that they were end strips during the public performance), directed Mr. Sigsbee to command Captain to match Mrs. Hamilton’s garments.

Captain went as far forward on the stage as he could go, craned his neck forward, and closely scrutinized Mrs. Hamilton. At the command, “Match the color of the lady’s hat” (Mr. Sigsbee gave these commands), Captain went to the color rack, which was close to and near the middle of the right wing, and took the black strip in his teeth. (Correct.) His master stood behind him, facing Mrs. Hamilton, who sat in the first row as “audience.” Following this the horse matched the white waist, tan gloves and black pocketbook.

I now engaged Mr. Sigsbee in a conversation as to how he had trained his horse to match colors, when Mrs. Hamilton called to Captain, “Can you match this?” Captain nodded his head and came up to the rack and took the yellow strip in his teeth. Neither Mr. Sigsbee nor I saw the pencil, and even when Mrs. Hamilton told us that it was a pencil I could not tell its colors from where Mr. Sigsbee and I stood, since the audience room was dimly lighted. On our way to the exposition that morning Mrs. Hamilton and I jested about my pencil-stealing proclivities, and I had reminded her that I had returned her red-white-and-blue pencil. This accounts for the certainty with which I declared that Captain had taken the wrong color until Mrs. Hamilton showed me that her pencil was really a yellow one.

Captain had grown friendly toward me, and as he stood facing me, apparently inviting attention, I said, “Match my necktie” and pointed to my red tie. He promptly pulled the red strip from the rack. Mr. Sigsbee was definitely behind Captain when this occurred.

Although my examination of Captain was too brief to justify me in presenting this as more than a preliminary report, there are a few tentative conclusions which I have drawn from it, and which I wish to present for the consideration of persons who may be interested in the training feats of men like von Osten, Krall, and Sigsbee.

1. The inquiring liveliness of Captain’s ears and the freedom with which Mr. Sigsbee employs verbal directions when the horse is tired and inattentive suggests the possibility that this animal may receive auditory cues that are given involuntarily by his master. It is not only conceivable but even likely that Captain is sensitive to changes in his master’s respiratory sounds. A spasmodic inspiration, a faint sigh or a sudden quickening of respiration might easily serve as cues for Captain. One need only translate Rendlich’s and Pfungst’s explanation of Hans’ behavior from visual into auditory terms to arrive at a fairly satisfying guess as to how it is possible for Captain to perform his wonderful feats.

2. My observations, although incomplete and inconclusive in many respects, have convinced me that Captain can give correct answers in entire independence of directive visual stimuli. There was no trickery about his blindfold: Captain wore a leather mask which so well excluded the light that he had to be led from place to place on the stage. Even when he was not blindfolded, and seemed to be keen to understand and to obey them correctly, he attended only with his ears.

3. I am convinced that Mr. Sigsbee is sincere in his belief that Captain is capable of abstract thought, and that he resorts to no trickery in his public performances. It is also gratifying to know that he is of the hard-headed type to whom a scientifically established explanation would be acceptable, even though it might run counter to his own presuppositions. If it proves to be the case that his horse is accessible to stimuli to which human ears are obtuse, and that master as well as public has been literally “taken in” by horse-cleverness the humorous aspect of the situation will appeal to him. From a purely commercial standpoint he need have no fear as to the “show” value of a horse which can beat a crafty old trainer at his own game by training the master to give such exquisitely delicate cues that the master himself is not aware of giving them. It is not surprising that Mr. Sigsbee had to fall back upon telepathic explanations.

CAPTAIN’S PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING

Prayer assumes two forms, the one of petition that blessings may be bestowed upon the petitioner, the other of thanksgiving for the blessings so bestowed. Several years ago a “Horse’s Prayer” was published in the newspapers. It was a prayer of petition. But—presupposing the possession by the horse of intelligence and power to formulate prayer—Captain has never had to ask for most of the things set forth in this prayer. His kind master has freely accorded them to him, so Captain’s prayer is one of thankfulness. But every owner of a horse can convert this prayer into one of petition by applying it to his own horse and seeing whether he is treating his animal as Captain is being treated:

=My Dear Master, I thank thee for all thy goodness to me all the days of my life. Thou hast given me good, clean, nutritious food, plenty of water, perfect shelter, clean dry bedding, and a stall wide enough for me to lie down in with comfort. Every day my hair and skin have been brushed and cleaned, my nostrils washed out, and my mane and tail kept free from burrs, tangles and dirt.=