apturing prey, but
of carrying them out as well.

"That beasts possess a language, which enables them to communicate their
ideas," says Thomas Gentry, "has been clearly shown. It is just as
apparent that they can act upon the ideas so conveyed. We have now to
see whether they can convey their ideas to man, and so bridge over the
gulf between the higher and the lower beings. Were there no means of
communicating ideas between man and animals, domestication would be
impossible. Every one who has possessed and cared for some favourite
animal must have observed that they can do so. Their own language
becomes, in many instances, intelligible to man. Just as a child that is
unable to pronounce words, can express its meaning by intimation, so a
dog can do the same by its different modes of barking. There is the bark
of joy or welcome, when the animal sees its master, or anticipates a
walk with him; the furious bark of anger, if the dog suspects that any
one is likely to injure himself or master, and the bark of terror when
the dog is suddenly frightened at something which he cannot understand.
Supposing, now, that his master could not see the dog, but could only
hear his bark, would he not know perfectly well the ideas which were
passing through the animal's mind?"

There is no doubt that animals understand something of our human
language. They may not be able to comprehend the exact words used, but
it is evident they get the meaning to a certain extent. I once had a
small Mexican dog sent me from Mexico; he seemed not to understand what
was said to him, until a friend called who spoke to him in Spanish,
whereupon he showed his delight and became at once a friend to the man
who spoke his own language.

The Rev. J. G. Wood tells the following incident, which forcibly
illustrates the ability possessed by animals to commune with each other.
"While I was living in the country with a friend, a most interesting
incident was observed in the history of the dog. My friend had several
dogs, of which two had a special attachment to, and an understanding
with, each other. The one was a Scotch terrier, gentle and ready to
fraternise with all honest comers. The other was as large as a mastiff,
and looked like a compound between the mastiff and the large rough
stag-hound. He was fierce, and required some acquaintance before you
knew what faithfulness and kindness lay beneath his rough and
savage-looking exterior. The one was gay and lively