DO ANIMALS TALK?
IF animals talk, as we are convinced that they do, to the extent of conveying wishes or facts by sounds, their speech ought to conform to the divisions of human speech. There must, in fact, be an "animal grammar," in the terms of which they express themselves. It is no bad test of the assertion that animal speech exists to apply the old formal divisions of the grammarians to the instances in which they appear to "voice" their thoughts, and ascertain by trial whether the forms into which the human speech has been divided fit the latter. The time-honoured divisions of speech are (1) statement of fact ; (2) request, including commands; (3) question. It is not to be supposed that the very limited range and simple character of animal wants and ideas would necessarily bring into play the whole of this category of articulate speech. But, as a fact, they do need to use all three forms of expression, but omit the last. Unlike children, animals do not ask questions. They only " look " them, and though they constantly and anxiously inquire what is to be done, how it is to be done, and the exact wishes of their masters, and occasionally even of other animals, the inquiry is made by the eye and attitude. A terrier, for instance, can almost transform his whole body into an animated note of interrogation.
Of the twe remaining forms of speech—statement and
request—the animals make very large use, but employ the latter in a far greater degree than the former. They use sounds for request, not only in particular cases in which they desire something to be done for them, but also in a great number of cases in which the request is a form of warning,— " Come! " "Be careful!" "Look out !" " Go ahead !" "Help !" The speech which indicates danger is sufficiently differentiated. Birds, for instance, have separate notes of warning to indicate whether the danger is in the form of a hawk or cat, or of a man. If a hawk, cat, or owl is on the move the birds, especially blackbirds, always utter a clattering note, constantly repeated, and chickens have a special sound to indicate the presence of a hawk. But when disturbed by man the blackbirds have quite a different sound of alarm and the chickens also. Animals on the march are usually silent ; but the hamadryad baboons use several words of command ; and the cries of cranes and geese when flying in ordered flocks are very possibly signals or orders.
Specific requests are commonly made by a sound, which the animal intends to be taken as expressing a want, while it indicates what it wants by showing the object. The greatest difficulty is when the object wanted, or required to be dealt with, is not present. Ile animal has then to induce you to follow and see the thing, and this often leads to great in- genuity both in the use of voice and action. This form of request is practised more or less successfully by a consider- able number of the animals kept as pets or servants of man. Various monkeys, geese, a goat, a ewe with a lamb, elephants, cats very commonly, and dogs innumerable are credited with " accosting " persons, and bringing to their notice by vocal means the objects they desire or the actions they wish done. A most ingeniously constructed request of this kind was made a few years ago by a retriever dog late one night in London. The streets were empty ; and the dog came up and, after wagging his tail, began to bark,—using not the rowdy bark which dogs employ when jumping at a horse's head or when excited, but the persuasive and confidential kind of bark which is used in requests and reproaches. He was very insistent, especially when a small, dark passage was reached, up which he ran, still barking. As this did not answer, the dog ran back, and took the writer's hand in which he was carrying his glove, in his month, and gave a gentle pull in the direction of the passage. As this did not meet with the attention desired, the dog pulled the glove out of the hand and carried it off up the passage, keeping a few yards in front and waving its tail in a friendly way ; this naturally led to pursuit, when the dog, still keeping ahead, dropped the glove in front of a gate leading into a butcher's yard, and began to bark again. As it obviously wanted the gate to be opened, this was done, and it trotted in without further remark. Every one who has kept dogs knows the tone of the bark of request,—a low " wouf," very unlike the staccato bark of anger, or vexation, or remonstrance. A bulldog at the Earl's Court Dog Show made his particular part of the bench almost unendurable by this form of bark, kept up (as we heard) for nearly three hours without a stop, because he was jealous of the attentions paid to the dog next him. This had won the first prize, and consequently received all the admiration ; so the other dog barked short, sharp, incessant yelps at him all day long, only stopping when some one patted him. We believe that leopards are absolutely silent creatures ; but many of the felida have a particular sound of request. In the cat a very low short mew is commonly used when the object is near, and will almost certainly be granted, such as the opening of a door, or the giving of water or milk. Unusual food which it fancies it will not get is asked for in another note; and any request not attended to is repeated in the different key. The tiger uses the low mew in some form of conversation with the tigress ; and the puma when domes- ticated has a considerable range of notes to ask for food, water, and society, or to return thanks; the latter being, as in the case of the cat and tiger, a kind of purr.
"Statement" in animal speech is mainly confined to indica- tions that the creature has made a discovery, good or bad. For the former the cock has, perhaps, the most distinct set of sounds; they are quite unlike any other note he uses, and are confined to the assertion that he has found something good to eat. Cock pigeons do the same, and we imagine that geese have an equivalent sound. Dogs have two forms of sound to state a discovery, elephants only one. The dog barks loud and sharply over something new, or merely surprising. We have seen a dog barking in this way when a couple of geographical globes were placed in a window,—objects he had never seen and wished to call attention to. But a painful discovery, such as that of a dead body, or a dangerously wounded man, is sometimes communicated by the dog howling,—which marks a different form of speech. A practical acquaintance with shore shooting and the men who have learnt to imitate the notes of shore birds discloses some curious facts as to the minute differences between the " talk " of different species. The greater number have a particular note which signifies " Come ; " and this note seems always to be understood and generally obeyed, almost instantly, by the birds of the same species, though no bird of another species pays the slightest attention to it. But the few shore birds which are really "talkative "—namely, the wild geese, the redshank, and the green plover—pay very little attention to the calls either of their own species or of any one who can imitate them. We never beard of any one who has ever tried to " call " wild geese. Green plover can be called, but very seldom ; and though redshanks can sometimes be whistled within shot, this is rarely done.
The difference between the notes of invitation made by various shore fowl—stints, grey plover, golden plover, ringed plover, knots, and sandpipers—is so slight that no one but a fowler would notice them. Yet to these men the difference is as great as that between the sound of French and English. A really first-class gunner will it in a creek in August and call the birds up, if within hearing and inclined to move, in any order you like to name. Even such closely allied birds as the curlew and the whimbrel have different notes, though, as they are so often associated on the marshes, one species will often answer to the call made by the other, probably in the expectation of Ending some of its own tribe in the game place. it is not a little surprising that these different birds, most of which feed in company, should not have learnt a common "all-fowls' tongue," but they have not. We once saw a large mixed flock of grey plover, knots, and stints flying past on the muds, at a distance of some ninety yards. A gunner noticed that there were two or three golden plover amongst them. These are easy to call; and all fowl are more likely to answer to the call when only two or three of the same species are together. The gunner, therefore, whistled the golden plovers' note, and out from the big flock of some sixty birds the pair of golden plovers instantly flew out, wheeled round, and passed within fifty yards, answering the call in their own language. Perhaps the best instance of the dexterity of the gunners in learning bird.language was recently recorded in the Westminster Gazette. It is credited to a fowler who shot the only specimen of the broad-billed sandpiper ever killed in Norfolk. When down on the muds listening to the notes of the shore birds he distinguished one which he did not know. He imitated it, the bird answered, flew up to him, and was shot. It does not follow that talkative, garrulous species really have more to say to one another than others. Like other chatterboxes, they like to hear themselves, and do not listen to other people. Starlings, for instance, which seem almost to talk, and certainly can imitate other birds when engaged in their curious "song," which seems so like a conversational variety entertainment, are all the time enjoying a monologue. No other starling listens. On the other hand, starlings, when they have anything to say, as when nesting, or quarrelling for places when going to roost, use quite different notes. Of all bird.voices the song of the swallow is most like human speech, .--not our speech, but like the songs which the Lapp or such outlandish races sing. A Lapp woman sings a song just like that of a swallow at dawn. Yet the swallows seem really to may little or nothing to one another, and never come to each other's call. But the varieties of bird-speech, and the possi- bilities of interchange of ideas, are very great. If, for instance, there is any real foundation for the stories of the rook-triaie and stork.trials, speech must play a considerable part in the proceedings.
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