Chapter 3

"Rolf was brought into a room where there was no one beyond the family and myself. Rolf ran eagerly from one to the other and jumped up at me. Holding up a little packet of biscuits, I said to him:

"'This is what Professor Ziegler sends you from Stuttgart with many greetings, and he hopes you are good, and that you will write him a letter.'

"I saw from his glance that he understood me, but it was only after Fräulein Moekel had most earnestly 'put it to him' that he consented to rap out a reply. At first it was not easy for me to follow, for--owing probably to his reluctance--he was not "working" distinctly, but by degrees I accustomed myself to his methods, and was able to "keep count" along with the others. What he rapped out was this:

"'Lib Deigler, dank für fein gegs,[12] die geben nit gegs arm lol[13] mehr schicken; mädel is lieb, gruss von lol" ( = Dear Dr. Ziegler, thanks for nice biscuits: they give no biscuits to poor Lol--send more. The girl's a dear: greetings from Lol.)'

[12] Gegs = keks; Germans call biscuits "keks."

[13] Here observe that Rolf has the impudence to complain of the Moekels for not feeding him on sweet biscuits!

"After this I showed him some salmon wrapped up in paper, and said:

"'See! this is what I have brought for you; what is it?' To this he did not rap out 'salmon,' as we had all expected--good as it was to the smell, but 'erst riechen' (first let me smell it). This was a ruse on his part, and one to which I succumbed, for no sooner did I hold it nearer to his nose than he snatched it out of my hand! It was, however, promptly taken from him and he was told he would have to 'deserve it' first. In the meantime a young female dog had come into the room--she answered to the name of Lola, and I asked Rolf if Lola might come with me. His reply was a most decided 'No!' I put some further questions to him, and Frau von Moers particularly asked him: 'Is Lola clever? Is Lola to learn?' to which he made answer: 'Lola is clever, but she is not to learn because of the professors'--and he actually made a face, apparently he was thinking of his own experiences. I laughed, and said:

"'Lola shall have a good time with me; she shall run about in the woods and the meadows, and play with a lot of other animals, and not have to work too long; the professors shall be sent away when Lola is tired.' This evidently pleased him, and he became very friendly to me, and on my returning to my point and asking once more whether Lola might go with me, he rapped out his answer on my hand: it was 'Yes!'

"Then I told him about an ox, who, when he didn't want to work, pretended to be dead. Rolf now got very excited, and wanted to go on rapping--first on my hand, and then on the leather-covered sofa on which I was sitting. I became rather uneasy and got him to go and rap to Fräulein Moekel, for I could then follow the raps far better. And what he now had to say referred to the deceitful ox--it was: "Hat Recht: Lol immer sagen Bauchweh!" ( = Quite right of him! Lol always says he has a pain in his stomach!)

"After this I showed him another box of biscuits, with a picture of a little nigger-boy on the lid, and asked:

"'What do you see on this?'

"To which he eagerly replied:

"'Wüst schwarz Bub!' ( = A wild black boy!)

"Rolf then received his reward, and I took a grateful leave of the Moekels--accompanied by little Lola.

"This experience of coming into personal contact with Rolf's powers of self-expression made a deep and lasting impression on me. In spite of all the accounts I had read and heard this living proof was almost overpowering in its utter novelty, and in the feeling of emotion that came over me, I seemed to sense that 'Souls' Unrest' that a transition from the old conception of 'unreasoning' animals to this new cognition is bound to bring with it.

"My visit had been so short that I had not been able to put any questions as to the method of instruction pursued. I had not been able to experiment personally nor get any actual advice, for Frau Dr. Moekel had died in the autumn of 1915. Yet I was by no means displeased at my state of ignorance when I came to reflect on the matter, for it enabled me to 'blaze a trail,' as it were, according to my own way of thinking, perhaps even, enabling me to arrive accidentally at similar or, diametrically opposite results!"

LOLA

Lola is an Airedale terrier, born at Mannheim on 27 January, 1914, a daughter of Rolf, and of the equally thorough-bred Jela. Both these dogs were owned by the family of a barrister, Dr. Moekel. The Airedale terrier resembles the dog we call a "Schnauzer"; it is wire-haired and of medium growth; generally with a greyish-black coat and yellow feet. Its head is covered with silky curls beneath which two bright eyes are seen. These dogs are distinguished for their alert and attentive bearing, while their excellent constitution renders them specially suitable for being trained to useful pursuits; they are at the same time not an over-bred race. Professor Heck, writing on the subject of these dogs (see "Communications of the Society for Animal Psychology"), says:

"We are indebted to Herr Gutbrod of Bradford for the fact that this dog has already become fairly well distributed among us. If I have been rightly informed regarding the Airedale's history it is a crossbreed between the otter-hound and the bull-terrier, this strain having been originally obtained by the factory hands of Airedale in the North of England, who thus sought to obtain a hardy dog--one not afraid of water, and that would prove a useful assistant when out poaching either water-fowl, hares or rabbits, occasions on which it is of importance to carry out the work with as little noise as possible.

"This breed provides a favourite 'house dog'; they have proved invaluable as Army Medical Service dogs, and are friendly with children. Jocularly they are called (in Germany) Petroleum dogs ( = a play on the name Airedale, as pronounced in German, i.e. 'Erd-oel'").

As already said, Lola's parents were the much spoken-of Rolf, the so-called "thinking" or "speaking" dog, and Jela, no longer owned by the Moekels. Jela seems to have been an unimportant little animal, not even very affectionate as a mother. The litter Lola was dropped at consisted of twelve pups; of these one died at once, and after the vicissitudes puppies are heirs to, those that remained and have become known to us, are Heinz, Harras, Ilse, and Lola. The first-named three all have their different owners by whom they are being taught with a certain amount of success--as indeed their reports have shown.

Previously to coming into my possession, Lola, had been removed from Mannheim at an early age, and had passed through many hands, undergoing, moreover, the most various attempts of instruction. Lack of time and also the war, had been answerable for these changes; twice, however, her own fidgetiness had resulted in her being deemed unsuitable, and it was felt that the attempt had proved a failure. Even Frau Dr. Moekel, into whose hands she had finally returned is said not to have thought much of her, having only been able to get her to learn "yes" ( = 2), and "no" ( = 3). I mention this, because it became clear to me later on that the success of such teaching does not depend solely on the patience, the love and the attention, nor even on the ability to, or the faculty for sensing the feelings of other creatures: not on the sympathy nor yet on the calm of individual persons, but rather on _a particular person being suited to a particular dog_.

No matter how great the ability of both the individual and the dog may be, should their temperaments not be in accord--every attempt will be fruitless. For instance, I feel very sure that I could not have taught Rolf; also that I shall never be able to get a sheep-dog (I still possess) to do more than answer "yes" and "no"; also that it would be the easiest thing for me to instruct Lola's daughter Ula--and so forth. There are, in short, "winners" and "blanks" and betwixt the two, every grade of differentiation. Yet, is this not equally true in the case of teaching children? The best of teachers need not prove equally suitable to all his pupils, while some other will turn out to be exactly the right person. And this only shows us the difficulties which so frequently obstruct the path of the best-intentioned people--where investigations are concerned; obstructions which they themselves oft-times do not notice, and to which no thought is given by prejudiced persons. For with animals we come up against a more acute degree of sensitiveness than we do in a child, which, owing to certain rudiments of common sense, is able to adapt itself more easily to either teacher or investigator.

Lola had remained with the Moekels for some time after the decease of that estimable lady; it was, however, ultimately found desirable to find other homes for some of the dogs. It was about that time that my inquiry as to the possibility of procuring a descendant of Rolf reached Professor Ziegler, and he at once seconded my application. Thus Lola was kindly placed at my disposal. At first I felt some misgivings owing to the fact that the dog was already two years old, and had also passed through numerous hands, yet I determined to go to Mannheim, and my visit took place as above narrated. Lola made a most delightful impression on me, and I put few tests to my choice, for I was in a state of some excitement after all that had taken place, and therefore took her away with me joyfully. It had seemed as if I _must_ do this.

It was on 11 January, 1916. She sat in the railway carriage with me, and began to howl violently when she saw Mannheim disappearing from her gaze. I tried to console her, saying: "Don't cry! You shall be quite happy with me!" It was then that Lola looked at me for the first time attentively. She quieted down and our friendship seemed sealed. She was apparently resigned to her fate; she was also doubtless aware that she had played "second fiddle" at Mannheim, and that it would, therefore, be preferable to be somewhere "on her own." That something of the kind was passing through her mind I could see--also that she was quite aware that she now belonged to me, and imagined she would be alone with me. This latter surmise became evident as soon as we reached my home where the sheep-dog I had had for two years rushed out to welcome me.

Then Lola gazed at me with horror and disappointment; the reproach in her eyes was such that I could not but understand, and then--the two dogs flew at each other, for, in the meantime the sheep-dog had begun to understand too! This was remarkable, for male and female dogs do not as a rule fall foul of each other. For days I kept them apart in separate rooms, for the mere sight of each other occasioned deep growls--indeed, my position had become distinctly uncomfortable. Then I suddenly remembered having heard that if two dogs are allowed to come together--without their master being present, they will generally get to agree. I therefore hastily shut them both into one room, and went out into the fields!

When in the course of an hour's time I came home again, each dog was reposing in a corner--the image of peace; there was no further fracas, and there has never been any trouble since. Later on, indeed, both became good friends, and often played together, but it was a risky experiment and grim forebodings had beset me on that walk! But having occasion to apply the same cure in another case, I met with the same success again.

BEGINNING THE TUITION.

Lola had been four days with me--accompanying me through the house, and about the farm, at first on a lead, but soon without. Her extreme animation verged on wildness; I was struck with her elastic temperament and her constant attentiveness, and it seemed to me that this dog would hardly be able to sit still for five minutes. She already knew "yes," and "no," and in my joy at possessing a dog able to answer me, I put so many questions to her that I began to be afraid I might do her some injury. I was, in fact, so afraid, so in doubt as to my understanding, and so alive to my responsibilities in the matter, that I often wished I had not accepted the dog at all. I did not even know whether I could "teach"--much less whether I could "teach a dog," whom, moreover, no hereditary "urge" would induce to attend school once she knew that this would mean having to work and be attentive!

Doubts as to whether the dog understood me; in what way she understood me; what sort of creature a dog really was--whether she could "think," "feel," or even whether she was capable of hearing in the same way as we hear; able to see in the same way that we see with our eyes; whether she already possessed some cognition of the human language, and whether this possessed any meaning for her? For all at once I _knew_ that I _knew nothing_. That I had not even the least idea as to the best manner to assume, whether I ought to be gentle or strict--these are but a few of the difficulties I found myself beset by. I was, in short, almost in despair. How could I presume to form an opinion, supposing that, merely to my own shortcomings, the animal remained an animal, that is--in as far as I was concerned--an "animal" in the same sense that all creatures have been, since time immemorial--according to man's opinion? How should I dare to attempt to add my contribution to man's store of knowledge in so weighty a matter without as much as knowing whether I possessed the requisite patience--a genuine gift for imparting tuition, and a sufficient measure of devotion? Above all, how could I have been so foolhardy as to have undertaken to make my investigations in connexion with a descendant of Rolf's! Indeed, my only excuse could be my intense love of knowledge, my reverence and high regard for science. Science--whose temple we may enter only when filled with intensest Will, and with pure Truthfulness vowed to the furtherance of her Service--be the results sweet or bitter, fraught with success or failure, easy or difficult, new, or along the well-worn paths. It was in _this_ sense that I sought to adventure--was bound to venture, for the die was cast. It was, therefore, with all the powers I could bring to my aid that I decided to embark on my quest--no matter what the attendant results might force me to acknowledge. I would disregard no test that might prove a contribution towards the solving of this new question.

Vowed to these responsibilities I sat down opposite to my dog and began. Said I to myself: She knows that she has to rap with her paws, and that rapping _twice_ or _three_ times does not mean the same thing; she knows, therefore, that the difference between these numbers of raps has some meaning. I then began to count to her on my fingers--at first from one to five and then back, finally taking the numbers irregularly and then holding up as many fingers as composed the number in question. To my surprise the dog was quiet and attentive, and I therefore soon continued to count up to ten. In order to enforce this lesson more I placed a row of small lumps of sugar in front of her, counting them as I did so--for it seemed to me that these might draw her attention more to the _numbers_. And I also rewarded her from time to time with a little bit for having sat so still. Then, holding up four fingers, I ventured with the question: "How many fingers do I show? Rap out the number!" And to my joy she rapped "4!" Yet, thinking this might have been accidental, I held up five and said: "Rap out this number!" and taking hold of her paw this time in order to make her tap her answer on the palm of my hand. After this I ceased my questions, for it seemed impossible that she should have comprehended so readily, but I went on just repeating the numbers to her. On the following day I also only counted, and then began questioning again, for I could not understand why she refused to look at my hands any more, and was continually yawning. Therefore, without holding out my hands, I asked her: "How many make six?" At which she gave six raps. I could hardly believe it, so I asked her: "four?" and she replied with four raps. I asked for five, and she answered correctly. I was now confident that she did understand; but what mystified me was the celerity with which her answers were given, for allowing even that she had understood, this swiftness seemed incomprehensible, and I decided to form no opinion until I had tested her with higher numbers, and should be in a position to discount the possibility of accident.

On the third day--after the preliminary counting--I got as far as ten by means of questions, and ten seemed for some days to be the limit set--calling on me to halt, as it were. This notion led me to teach the dog addition first so as by this means to get over the simple questions as to the numbers, which were always given correctly.

All this I found quite easy to do, either using my fingers or using lumps of sugar for my purpose; I was at the same time careful to speak very distinctly and to use as few complicated phrases as possible. I would say, for instance, "Look here! two fingers and two fingers are 1--2--3--4 fingers!" But soon she ceased to follow with her eyes, so that I became disheartened and thought I had gone ahead too rapidly, or, had not roused sufficient interest; not waiting for the psychological moment, but seeking to handle the sensitive mechanism of a sentient creature too roughly. Yet--surely this could not be so, for, after all, I was but tentatively trying, and, indeed it was open to me "to try"--even if without confidence! I then said: "How much is two and five?" doing so without illustrating the question with my fingers, and the dog rapped seven! I felt a warm thrill of delight, yet I controlled my joy and proceeded with my questions, although at that moment I said to myself: "A living creature has given you a conscious answer!"

We now continued: "1 and 3?" Answer: "4." "2 and 6?" Answer: "8." This seemed to me enough for one day, and I allowed her to scamper off with a reward for her diligence; then I sat and meditated on my experience. The fact was evident: the dog had understood me--I had seen it in her eyes. She had reflected first and had then tapped the palm of my hand with unwavering certainty. I had seen the process and had felt it. Now, it is not wise to be guided by one's feelings alone--our judgment should be unbiased, and so I decided to test these facts according to reason and in every conceivable way. Yet, no one having once experienced what I had, could ever forget the sensation, for it was like the dawning of some great truth, rising suddenly before one's eyes--clear and immense. It appeared to me as some beautiful gift of life, and I was seized with a feeling of reverence for all that may yet lie undiscovered. For this new light of which I had caught the first flash, as though reflected in some bright crystal such as I might hold in my hand--how I yearned to transmit it--to pass this gift--this joy--on to others as soon as the veil should have further lifted and the horizon have become wider. And, before passing on again to the practical and scientific side of these investigations, I should like to say that where we have to do with warm, pulsating life, feeling too has its rights, and must go hand-in-hand with reason. For it is feeling, love and patience that must first penetrate the _subject-matter_, while to reason is assigned the studying, the weighing and the proving along the path pursued by the creative, seeking spirit of man. Such is man: how humble by comparison is the animal! Yet should our love henceforth assign to it its own place--as well as its own rights--as our lowlier companion in the work of life.

Soon I ventured beyond ten. For lack of any more fingers I got a counting frame, such as small children use at school, and the red and white wire-strung balls assisted me to explain my meaning as plainly as I could. I had forgotten the exact manner in which such lessons had been given me, but I hoped for the best! Indeed, "logic" was part and parcel of every step taken during this course of instruction. Never having taught before, I was desperately anxious to give a logical--a reasonable--explanation of everything to this other being respecting those things which were quite clear to me. Those, too, who saw the dog was learning something new, also felt that she seemed to arrive at what I explained to her with great rapidity and by exercising thought; that, moreover, she understood the matter as I understood it, and all were convinced that there could be no doubt but that she _did think_.

I asked her, "14," "12," "15"? And the right answers were given. Then it occurred to me that with these high numbers the rapping must be an exertion, especially over a period of time, and I then called to mind about Krall's horses who had rapped out the decimals with their left hoof, and the units with their right. The next thing, therefore, was to make her understand the difference between "right" and "left." I took each paw in turn, saying "right paw!" and "left paw!" And it took her longer to remember that than I had expected, seeing how quick she had been up to the present. Yet, at length this too was accomplished and she gave each paw without mistake. Strange as it may seem, I found later on that abstract reckoning and spelling came easily enough, while the movements of any particular portion of the body--with the exception of those habitually practised--were always attended with greater difficulty. It would seem as if she understood rightly enough _with her head_, but had some trouble in translating what she understood into active motion; and this applies to all, excepting, of course, such movements as are the result of heredity, where no words, but some other incentive, such as "scent" may possibly come into play. It is difficult for human beings to grasp that there is life in the sub-conscious, and that it is in those sub-conscious regions that the will to act arises.

I now explained to her: "When you give your _left_ paw _once_, it is to count as _ten_; when you give your _right_ paw _once_, it is to count as _one only_. For, you see, if we go on counting there is too much work for one paw to do and it takes too long. Therefore if you want to say '12,' you must give the _left_ paw _once_, and the _right_ paw _twice_." I repeated this several times and then asked: "How do you rap fifteen?" And Lola rapped one (10) with the left paw and five times with the right. It was evident that she had understood me perfectly!