more than one occasion I have seen two strong uninjured animals come to the assistance of a wounded companion, and swim away with it to a position of safety, the injured animal being supported on both sides, giving the appearance of three animals swimming abreast. The first time I witnessed this I did not comprehend its real meaning, but on another occasion in McCormick Bay I saw a wounded animal leaving a trail of blood and oil, supported on either side by two uninjured ones. They were making a hasty retreat and would occasionally dive together, but would quickly return to the surface.
"We found the most effective exposed spot to place a bullet was at the base of the animal's skull. A walrus instantly killed this way generally sinks, leaving a trail of blood and oil to mark the place of his descent. When hunting these animals it is well to have an Eskimo along with harpoon and line in readiness to make fast; otherwise one is apt to lose his quarry.
"In the early winter we usually found the walrus in smaller groups up in the bays. This was after the ice had begun to make, and in coming to the surface to breathe the animals found it necessary to butt their noses against the ice to break it. I have seen this done in ice at least four inches in thickness. In some instances I have seen a fractured star in the ice, a record of an unsuccessful attempt to make a breathing hole." Around these breathing holes we frequently found fragments of clam-shells, sections of crinoids and sea-anemones. It is evident that after raking the bottom with his tusks and filling his mouth with food, the walrus separates the food he desires to retain and rejects on his way up and at the surface such articles as he has picked up in haste and does not want.
"From the fact that the walrus is easily approached it is a simple matter to kill him with the modern high power rule. It is therefore to be hoped that future expeditions into the arctic seas will kill sparingly of these tremendous brutes which from point of size stand in the foremost rank among mammals."
The Elephant, Rhinoceros and Hippopotamus. Individual Elephants vary in temperament far more than do rhinoceroses or hippopotami, and the variations are wide. In a wild state, elephants are quiet and undemonstrative, almost to the point of dullness. They do not domineer, or hector, or quarrel, save when a rogue develops in the ranks, and sets out to make things interesting by the commission of lawless acts. A professional rogue is about everything that an orthodox elephant should not be, and he soon makes of himself so great a nuisance that he is driven out of the herd.
The temperament of the standardized and normal elephant is distinctly sanguine, but a nervous or hysterical individual is easily developed by bad conditions or abuse. Adult male elephants are subject to various degrees of what we may as well call sexual insanity, which is dangerous in direct proportion to its intensity. This causes many a "bad" show elephant to be presented to a zoological garden, where the dangers of this mental condition can at least be reduced to their lowest terms. Our Indian elephant who was known as Gunda was afflicted with sexual insanity, and he gradually grew worse, and increasingly dangerous to his keepers, until finally it was necessary to end his troubles painlessly with a bullet through his brain.
The Rhinoceros is a sanguine animal, of rather dull vision and slow understanding. In captivity it gives little trouble, and lives long. Adults individually often become pettish, or peevish, and threaten to prod their keepers without cause, but I have never known a keeper to take those lapses seriously. The average rhino is by no means a dull or a stupid animal, and they have quite enough life to make themselves interesting to visitors. In British East Africa a black rhinoceros often trots briskly toward a caravan, and seems to be charging, when in reality it is only desiring a "close-up" to satisfy its legitimate curiosity.
Every Hippopotamus, either Nile or pygmy, is an animal of serene mind and steady habits. Their appetites work with clock- like regularity, and require no winding. I can not recall that any one of our five hippos was ever sick for a day, or missed a meal. When the idiosyncrasies of Gunda, our bad elephant, were at their worst, the contemplation of Peter the Great ponderously and serenely chewing his hay was a rest to tired nerves. Keeper Thuman treats the four pygmy hippos like so many pet pigs,—save the solitary adult male, who sets himself up to be peevish. The breeding female is a wise and good mother, with much more maternal instinct than our chimpanzee "Suzette."
It may be set down as an absolute rule that hippos are lymphatic, easy-going, contented, and easy to take care of provided they are kept scrupulously clean, and are fed as they should be fed. They live long, breed persistently, give no trouble and have high exhibition value.
Giraffe individuals vary exceedingly,—beyond all other hoofed animals. Each one has its own headful of notions, and rarely will two be found quite alike in temperament and views of life. Some are sanguine and sensible, others are nervous, crotchety, and full of senseless fears. Those who are responsible for them in captivity are constantly harassed by fears that they will stampede in their stalls or yards, and break their own necks and legs in most unexpected ways. They require greater vigilance than any other hoofed animals we know. Sometimes a giraffe will develop foolishness to such a degree as to be unwilling to go out of its own huge door, into a shady and comfortable yard.
III
THE LANGUAGE OF WILD ANIMALS
Language is the means by which men and animals express their thoughts. Of language there are four kinds: vocal, pictured, written and sign language.
Any vocal sound uttered for the purpose of conveying thought, or influencing thought or action, is to be classed as vocal language. Among the mammals below man, speech is totally absent; but parrots, macaws, cockatoos and crows have been taught to imitate the sound of man's words, or certain simple kinds of music.
The primitive races of mankind first employed the sign language, and spoken words. After that comes picture language, and lastly the language of written words. Among the Indians and frontiersmen of the western United States and Canada, the sign language has reached what in all probability is its highest development, and its vocabulary is really wonderful.
The higher wild animals express their thoughts and feelings usually by sign language, and rarely by vocal sounds. Their power of expression varies species by species, or tribe by tribe, quite as it does among the races and tribes of men. It is our belief that there are today several living races of men whose vocabularies are limited to about 300 words.
Very many species of animals appear to be voiceless; but it is hazardous to attempt to specify the species. Sometimes under stress of new emergencies, or great pain, animals that have been considered voiceless suddenly give tongue. That hundreds of species of mammals and birds use their voices in promoting movements for their safety, there is no room to doubt. The only question is of the methods and the extent of voice used. Birds and men give expression to their pleasure or joy by singing.
In the jungle and the heavily wooded wilderness, one hears really little of vocal wild-animal language. Through countless generations the noisiest animals have been the first ones to be sought out and killed by their enemies, and only the more silent species have survived. All the higher animals, as we call the higher vertebrates, have the ability to exchange thoughts and convey ideas; and that is language.
At the threshold of this subject we are met by two interesting facts. Excepting the song-birds, the wild creatures of today have learned through instinct and accumulated experience that silence promotes peace and long life. The bull moose who bawls through a mile of forest, and the bull elk who bugles not wisely but too well, soon find their heads hanging in some sportsman's dining- room, while the silent Virginia deer, like the brook, goes on forever.
Association
