urface. In such a case the ranchmen think the wolf has been
outwitted; but the truth probably is that there was no calculation in
the matter; the soil drew out or dulled the smell of the poison and of
the man's hand, and so allayed the wolf's suspicions.

I suppose that when an animal practices deception, as when a bird
feigns lameness or a broken wing to decoy you away from her nest or
her young, it is quite unconscious of the act. It takes no thought
about the matter. In trying to call a hen to his side, a rooster will
often make believe he has food in his beak, when the pretended grain
or insect may be only a pebble or a bit of stick. He picks it up and
then drops it in sight of the hen, and calls her in his most
persuasive manner. I do not suppose that in such cases the rooster is
conscious of the fraud he is practicing. His instinct, under such
circumstances, is to pick up food and call the attention of the hen to
it, and when no food is present, he instinctively picks up a pebble or
a stick. His main purpose is to get the hen near him, and not to feed
her. When he is intent only on feeding her, he never offers her a
stone instead of bread.

We have only to think of the animals as habitually in a condition
analogous to, or identical with, the unthinking and involuntary
character of much of our own lives. They are creatures of routine.
They are wholly immersed in the unconscious, involuntary nature out of
which we rise, and above which our higher lives go on.

XI

THE LITERARY TREATMENT OF NATURE

The literary treatment of natural history themes is, of course, quite
different from the scientific treatment, and should be so. The former,
compared with the latter, is like free-hand drawing compared with
mechanical drawing. Literature aims to give us the truth in a way to
touch our emotions, and in some degree to satisfy the enjoyment we
have in the living reality. The literary artist is just as much in
love with the fact as is his scientific brother, only he makes a
different use of the fact, and his interest in it is often of a
non-scientific character. His method is synthetic rather than
analytic. He deals in general, and not in technical truths,--truths
that he arrives at in the fields and woods, and not in the laboratory.

The essay-naturalist observes and admires; the scientific naturalist
collects. One brings home a bouquet from the woods; the oth