ons. On another occasion Mr. Seton said a jack rabbit pursued by a
weasel upon the snow sought safety under his sled. In all such cases,
if the frightened animal really rushed to man for protection, that
act would show a degree of reason. The animal must think, and weigh
the _pros_ and _cons_. But I am convinced that the truth about such
cases is this: The greater fear drives out the lesser fear; the animal
loses its head, and becomes oblivious to everything but the enemy that
is pursuing it. The rat was so terrified at the demon of a weasel that
it had but one impulse, and that was to hide somewhere. Doubtless had
the bed been empty, it would have taken refuge there just the same.
How could an animal know that a man will protect it on special
occasions, when ordinarily it has exactly the opposite feeling? A deer
hotly pursued by a hound might rush into the barn-yard or into the
open door of the barn in sheer desperation of uncontrollable terror.
Then we should say the creature knew the farmer would protect it, and
every woman who read the incident, and half the men, would believe
that that thought was in the deer's mind. When the hunted deer rushes
into the lake or pond, it does so, of course, with a view to escape
its pursuers, and wherever it seeks refuge this is its sole purpose. I
can easily fancy a bird pursued by a hawk darting into an open door or
window, not with the thought that the inmates of the house will
protect it, but in a panic of absolute terror. Its fear is then
centred upon something behind it, not in front of it.

When an animal does something necessary to its self-preservation, or
to the continuance of its species, it probably does not think about it
as a person would, any more than the plant or tree thinks about the
light when it bends toward it, or about the moisture when it sends
down its tap-root. Touch the tail of a porcupine ever so lightly, and
it springs up like a trap and your hand is stuck with quills. I do not
suppose there is any more thinking about the act, or any more
conscious exercise of will-power, than there is in a trap. An outward
stimulus is applied and the reaction is quick. Does not man wink, and
dodge, and sneeze, and laugh, and cry, and blush, and fall in love,
and do many other things without thought or will? I do not suppose the
birds think about migrating, as man does when he migrates; they simply
obey an inborn impulse to move south or north, as the case may be.
They do