The Minds and Manners of Wild Animals

press their thoughts. Of language there are four

classed as vocal language. Among the mammals below man, speech is totally absent; but parrots, macaws, co

nd lastly the language of written words. Among the Indians and frontiersmen of the western United States and Canada, th

r power of expression varies species by species, or tribe by tribe, quite as it does among the races and tribes of men

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 sa

e noisiest animals have been the first ones to be sought out and killed by their enemies, and only the more silent species have survived

t 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 n

outcry. With an insistent staccato neigh, the hungry horse jars the dull brain of its laggard master, and prompts him to "feed and water the stock." But how different is the cry of a lost hor

ncied security have developed a highly useful vocabulary of language cal

d jungle-fowl, the ancestor of our domestic chicken, indulge in all those noisy expressions of thought and feeling? By no means. I have lived for months in jungles where my hut was surrounded by jungle-fowl, and shot

are almost as clear-cut and understandable as the talk of human beings. Just how much more is b

enemies that will exterminate them. Herein lies the extreme difficulty of ascertaining how wild beasts communicate. In the Animallai Hills of southern India I hunted constantly for many weeks th

onkeys that used to swear at us, I can almost count upon my fingers the whole numbe

ow something of the voices of the animals tha

of the chimpanzee, but in captivity he rarely utte

alf-grown or adult orang when profoundly excited bellows or roars, in

oice, and vociferously

plaintive, coaxing note, "

threatening, "Wah', wah',

high-pitched yell or shrie

stamping or pounding with the feet upon the floor. It may signify rage, or nothing more than the joy of living, and of having a place

I hear one utter a vocal sound. That was a deep bass roar emitted by an old male that I disturb

the late Mr. Richard L. G

nce. ... Although diurnal in habit, the chimpanzees often make the night reverberate with the sounds of their terrific screaming, which I have known them to continue at times for mor

hough diurnal in habit, he talks less frequently during the day than at night, but his silence is a natural consequence of his stealth and cunning. There are times, h

f I had heard them again this morning. While feeding, or quietly enjoying the morning sun, the gray gibbon (Hylobates concolor) emits in leisurely succession a low staccato, whistle-like cry, like "Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!" which one can easily counterfeit by whistli

ning, and perhaps a dozen times during the day, those three gibbons go on a vocal rampage and utter prolonged and ear-splitting cries and shrieks that make the welkin ring. The shrieking chorus is usually pro

t to visitors is as startling as the report of a gun. The commonest expressions are "Wah!" a

(overhanging water), a cry like the resonant "honk" of a saxophone. He says plainly, "Kee honk,"

lt voice a depth of pitch and a booming resonance that is impossible to describe. The note produced is a prolonged bass roar, in alternately rising and falling cadence, and in reality comprising about three notes. It is the habit of troops of red howlers to indulge in nocturnal concerts, wherein four, five or six old males will pipe up and

in a way that is highly amusing, and the absurd pitch of the dee

til about 1904 that the torrent stopped. At first the knowledge that monkeys can and do communicate to a limited extent by vocal sounds was hailed as a "discovery"; but unfortunately

say even as much as "Oh" or "Ah." Nothing seems to be further from the mi

I greeted her in her own language, usually she answered me promptly and vociferously. Often when she had been busy with her physical- culture exercises and Delsartean movements on the horizon

particularly excited she would cry "Who-oo! Who-oo! Who-oo!" with great clearness and vehemence, the two syllables pitched four notes apart. This cry was uttered as a joyous greeting, and also at feeding-time, in exp

four manifestations her vocal powers seemed to stop short. Many times I opened her mouth widely with my fingers, and tried to surprise her into saying "Ah," but with no result. It seems almost impossible to

xplosively, using the syllable "Wah!" It is only by the most liberal interpretation of terms that such cries can be called language. The majority express only two em

nimallai Hills in Southern India. They used to glare down at us, and curse us horribly whenever we met. Had we been b

ll-hunting big game, and from the middle zone of the tree-tops black and angry faces would peer down at us. They said: "Wah! Wah! Wah! Ah-^oo-oo-Aoo-oo-^oo-oo!" and it was nothing else than cursing and blackguarding. How those monkeys did hate us! I never have encountered elsewhere anything like it in monkey-land. la 1902 there was a startling exhibition of monkey language at our Primate House. That

s' den, a good quarter of a mile, came a most awful uproar, made by many voices. The bulk of it was a medley of rauc

ered with monkeys and baboons, all in the wildest excitement. The jaguar was in full view of them, and although not one out of the whol

heard half a mile away. The ugly-tempered macaques and rhesus monkeys nearly burst with hatred and indignation. The row was kept up

ed together, they rapidly develop vocal powers. Our bears are such cheerful citizens, and they do so many droll things, that the average visitor works ove

the grizzly says: "Woof! Woof!" A fighting bear says: "Aw-aw-aw!" A baby's cal

ze and interpret the different cries of bears, although the ability to d

for the snow lay nine inches deep over all. There were no visitors, and the maintenance men were silently shovelling. Over the hill from the bear dens c

came: "

te walk, about a hundred feet from the dens, four men were industriously shovelling sno

of the ironwork, thrust one front paw through between two of the bars (for bears are the greatest busybodies on earth), and when he sought to withdraw it, the sharp point of a bar in the overhang of the tree-guard had buried itself in the back of his paw, and he

ithin five minutes from the discovery we were in the den ready for action. The little chap gave two or three cri

and a crowbar to spring the treacherous overhang, we lifted the foot clear, and lowered little Brownie to the floor. From first to last he helped us all he could, and seemed to rea

brief lecture on the language of bears, and the nec

without hearing a single vocal utterance. They k

the elephants began signalling to each other by trumpeting, and what they sounded was "The assembly." They called and answered repeatedly; and finally it became clear to my native followers that the two herds were advancing to unite, and were lik

d by the sign language, and a retreat organized and carried out in absolute silence. Their danger signals to each other must have been made with their trun

fear, or through rage; but I am obliged to confess that a

d there I saw a droll spectacle. Keeper Richards had taken Alice out into her yard for exercise and had ordered her to follow him. And there he was disgustedly marching around the yard while Alice mar

voices of two important American animals have been perma

ttering of distant thunder, was denied and severely criticized in a sportsman's magazine. On October 4 of that year, while we were selecting the fifteen bison to be

ordinary grunt of hunger, or the menace of an angry buffalo, which is short and sharp. In discussing the quality of the bellow, we agreed that it could properly be calle

r every five years as long as pumas endure. Uncountable pages of controversial letters ha

ntestable by people whose minds a

oy or a woman screaming from the pain of a surgical operation. To one who does not know the source or the cause, it is nerve-racking. When heard in a remote

only to sketch out and suggest its foundations and scope. On birds alone, an entire volume sh

he spoken language of that species. If any one should do so, let him listen to the wild-goose wonder tales of Jack Miner, and hear him imitate (to

ad tree his resounding signal-call that is nothing mo

he resounding "Boo-hoo-hoo" courting call of the cock pinnated grouse, rolling

ts. Whether he complained about his big and bulky cagemates, or the keepers, or me, I could not tell; but I thought that his grievances were against the large birds. Whenever I climbed over the guard rail and stooped down, he would come close up to the wire, stand in one spot, and in a quiet, confidential tone talk to me earnestly and gesticulate with his h

moose roars and bawls, in desire or defiance. The elephant trumpets or screams in the joy of good feeding, or in fear or rage; and it also rumbles deeply

hey are the sweet singers of the animal world, and

nd now if they were more si

cal sounds,-the alligator and the elephant tortois