loudly; immediately the bees
sallied forth, pounced upon the dog and stung him severely. During the
entire summer this dog could never come near the nest without being
stung; his companions, two in number, trotted to and fro on the path
near which the nest was located without being noticed in the slightest
degree by the bees. The disturber, and, to them, would-be ravisher and
destroyer of their home, however, was always assailed and put to flight.
He eventually learned to give that portion of the yard a wide berth, and
could not be coaxed into coming within thirty yards of the home of his
savage little foes.
Instances of memory of individuals, incited by friendship or regard,
between animals of different species is quite rare among the lower
animals (insects, reptiles, etc.), yet, I have fortunately been able to
note this phase of memory as occurring in several animals, comparatively
speaking, low in the scale of intellectual development. I have every
reason for believing that even the toad remembers individuals, at
least, it remembers the sound of some particular voice or whistle. It
most certainly remembers localities and places, and that, too, when
unaided by its sense of direction which it possesses in a high degree. A
toad which I had under observation, and which I was in the habit of
feeding, would come at my call or whistle, and this it learned to do
after only two weeks of teaching. It would do this even in the middle of
a hot summer day (toads feed at dusk and during the night), showing,
thereby, that it remembered that this call meant food.
I have strong reasons for believing that certain spiders possess this
phase of memory; at least, a certain lycosid once evinced such
unmistakable evidences of a recognition of my individual person, that
more than one observer became convinced that she knew me from other
people. At the time these observations were made, I was confined to the
house by sickness.
In my room and dwelling beneath my table was a large black spider, one
of the most beautiful of her species. When I first made her acquaintance
she was very timid, and would run to her den if I made the slightest
motion. As time passed, however, she grew bolder and would come to the
edge of the table which was close beside my bed, and regard me intently
with her beady black eyes. Finally she became so tame that she would
take flies and insects from my fingers. She learned to know me so well
that she could easily
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