35 
considered as a whole, is always on the alert ; at almost every 
moment some eyes, ears, and noses will command all approaches, and 
the start or cry of alarm of a single beast is a signal to all his 
companions. To live gregariously is to become a fibre in a vast 
sentient web over-spreading many acres ; it is to become the 
possessor of faculties always awake, of eyes that see in all directions, 
of ears and nostrils that explore a broad belt of air ; it is also to 
become the occupier of every bit of vantage-ground whence the 
approach of a lurking enemy might be overlooked. The protective 
senses of each individual who chooses to live in companionship 
are multiplied by a large factor, and he thereby receives a maximum 
of security at the cost of a minimum of restlessness. When we 
isolate an animal who has been accustomed to a gregarious life, 
we take away his sense of protection, for he feels himself exposed 
to danger from every part of the circle around him, except the 
one point on which his attention is momentarily fixed, and he 
knows that disaster may easily creep up to him from behind ; 
consequently his glance is restless and anxious and is turned in 
succession to different quarters ; his movements are hurried and 
agitated, and he becomes a prey to the extremest terror.”—(Mac- 
ini'Han’s Magazine, vol. xxiii., ftp. 355-6.) 
Prince Kropotkin says :— 
“The fishing associations of the pelicans are certainly worthy 
of notice for the remarkable order and intelligence displayed by 
these clumsy birds. They always go fishing in numerous bands, and 
after having chosen an appropriate bay, they form a wide half-circle 
in face of the shore, and narrow it by paddling towards the shore, 
catching all fish that happen to be enclosed in the circle. On narrow 
rivers and canals they even divide into two parties, each of which 
draws up on a half-circle, and both paddle to meet each other, just as 
if two parties of men dragging two long nets should advance to 
capture all fish taken between the nets when both parties come 
to meet. As the night comes they fly to their resting-places—always 
the same for each flock—and no one has ever seen them fighting for 
the possession of either the bay or the resting-place. In South 
America they gather in flocks of from forty thousand to fifty thousand 
individuals, part of which enjoy sleep while the others keep watch, 
and others again go fishing.”—(The Nineteenth Century, vol. xxviii., 
PP- 349-50.) 
He also mentions the anxiety displayed by all indi 
viduals in a herd of chamois as long as all of them have 
not cleared a difficult passage over rocky cliffs.* 
* 
Kropotkin. 707.