Is it a simple instinct that impels the elephant to test the strength of a bridge, which he is required to cross, before he trusts his ponderous weight to its timbers? What country lad has not risen two hours earlier than usual, lost his breakfast, and run himself breathless, to be by, when the "caravan" entered the neighboring village? And what lad has not seen the huge animal try the bridge, with one of his fore feet, until the very timbers rattled, and then shaking his broad apronears about, as if in doubt of its security, remain deaf, alike to entreaties and commands. Are not judgment and skill displayed in these movements, or must we add another to the list of instincts of adaptation, and call this, a bridge_instinct! Then again, with what a memory an elephant is blessed, and what gratitude does he evince. Go into the crowded tent of a traveling menagerie, give him a piece of tobacco, and slink away into the crowd, but he knows you; his small, bright eye gleams upon you expressively; he feels insulted, and who blames him? Years may pass; that collection may be brought to your village again, and with it, the elephant. Do you think he has forgotten you? Trust it not; he remembers the tobacco-monger, the moment his eye rests upon him. Do not venture within his reach; he might consider you beneath his notice, or he might make an example of you; who knows? Then the gratitude of this animal is as familiar as a household word. Nearly every child has heard of the enraged elephant, who (I have written who, but I will not change it,) as he rushed madly along, trampling every thing that oppos ed his progress, into the dust, removed, with maternal tenderness, a helpless infant to a place of safety, that had been left. exposed by the affrighted mother. And why did he do this? Because that mother had now and then given him a handful of greens, as he passed her stall! What man ever recipro cated a favor more nobly or delicately? We can almost think the brute acquainted with the human heart. There, too, is Columbus, that rescued his keeper from the jaws of a ferocious tiger, displaying an intelligence and affection, which, as the man himself told me, made them indissoluble friends for life; and well it might, for the idle protestations and heartless compliments of the so-called friendships of the world, are of small account, when compared with the attachment of one noble animal like this. The migratory habits of certain birds and quadrupeds deserve a passing notice in this connection. How often, in the gray of the morning or the dusk of evening, have we heard the loud "houc, houc," of the pilot goose, that thus leads on the two diverging files, following their common leader. Whither are they bound, and what their errand, think you? What whispers these ærial voyagers, that the far-lakes of the north, offer a secure retreat, alike from the inclemency of the weather, and the sure aim of the fowler? Or what induces them, with their just fledged young. to seek the balmy mildness of a southern Zone, from the coming blasts of autumn; and thus, like Logan's cuckoo, be ever "companions of the spring?" Who taught them thus to steer, from tropic to the line, through the deep, blue, star-lit depths of that upper sea? These and a hundred similar questions throng into the mind, and perhaps none of them are so easily answered, as to attribute it all directly to Him Who sees with equal eye as God of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall." That it is altogether instinct, seems to me highly improbable; that it is wholly the result of intelligence, I do not believe. Whether birds have a sense of which we are ignorant, as some suppose, or not, it will be readily conceded that, in ma ny instances, those senses with which we are acquainted, are astonishingly acute, in the brute creation; foretelling the approach of storms by certain actions or cries, while yet no cloud dims the visible horizon, and when nothing less than a barometer or a rheumatic could indicate it. It is well known that cats hear the movements of their prey, when the human ear can distinguish no sound; that rabbits give the alarm to burrows the most remote, by striking the earth with their little feet. So in the case of the maddened elephant, amid the discharge of fire-arms, and the crash of timbers as he raged round his prison, the voice of his keeper was heard, "Chunee, bite," and the noble animal, obedient to the command, kneeled, and a volley of balls terminated his suffering. Birds of prey, from the acuteness of their sense of sight or smell, come from the distant woods and mountains, with unerring accuracy, to the spot where the carcass of a slaugh tered animal has been deposited, so recently, that the most delicate olfactory nerves could not discover its proximity, though in an adjoining field. This exquisite sensibility of the organs, together with instinct, impels them to seek a milder clime, while not unfrequently they seem to avail themselves of peculiar circumstances in expediting their flight, and that too, intelligently; the strong currents at the time of the equinoxes, waft them on; the height of their flight, such as to set the fowling piece at defiance; their caution in foraging when necessary; their protracted stages during the night, all seem to imply the possession of intelligence in accomplishing what instinct imposes in behalf of life. One can never think of the migration of birds, without remembering the nature-breathing lines of Bryant, to a waterfowl. Who has not read them? If you have not, improve the present opportunity, and whether young or old, gay or grave, you may, if you will, be the better for it. Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast- All day thy wings have fanned, And soon that toil shall end, Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest Thou'rt gone--the abyss of heaven He, who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, CHAPTER V. The model society of the hive-bee-The Wasp-The Ant-The Ant-lion-The land crab-General inferences-Conclusion. Who has not spent many a bright summer's morning in watching the proceedings of the hive bee? When the gates of the populous city are thrown open, and the hum of the multitude rises on the still air, take your station near the city; now a troop of laborers come struggling out; now a band laden with the sweets of the field, blocks up the entrance; and now, all is clear again. Hark, that low buzz! There comes a funeral procession; see them bearing off the little corpse of a companion; now a posse of carpenters are repairing some of the public works. What now? Here come workers, builders and nurses, elbowing and crowding one another, with true city politeness. See that! One of them is almost crushed; they should summon the police; their exquisite sense foretells the approach of rain, and they are hastening to shelter. But could you obtain a pass port into the wondrous metropolis, your admiration would be, if possible, increased. In the main streets, you will see companies by tens and twenties, with their wings united by the marginal hooks, whose duty it is to ventilate the crowded streets by the motion of these natural fans; yonder comes a relief file. Wo betide the ignorant snail who incautiously ventures within the hive! They cannot pierce the shell with their weapons; they might cover the unwieldy intruder with propolis, but that would be expensive; and that is an important consideration, for you. Resembling wax. * |