De sollertia animalium

At this point in my discourse, I imagine that I shall do well not to omit the case of the fox, since it is so similar. Now the story-books[*](The authorities on Deucalion’s Flood are assembled by Frazer on Apollodorus, i. 7. 2 (L.C.L.), and more completely in his Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, i, pp. 146 ff. Plutarch is the only Greek author to add the Semitic dove story, though Lucian (De Dea Syria, 12 ff.) was to add to the other major contaminations.) tell us that when Deucalion released a dove from the ark, as long as she returned, it was a certain sign that the storm was still raging; but as soon as she flew away, it was a harbinger of fair weather. So even to this day the Thracians,[*](Cf. 949 d supra and the note.) whenever they propose crossing a frozen river, make use of a fox as an indicator of the solidity of the ice. The fox moves ahead slowly and lays her ear to the ice; if she perceives by the sound that the stream is running close underneath, judging that the frozen part has no great depth, but is only thin and insecure, she stands stock still and, if she is permitted, returns to the shore; but if she is reassured by the absence of noise, she crosses over. And let us not declare that this is a nicety of perception unaided by reason; it is, rather, a syllogistic conclusion developed from the evidence of perception: What makes noise must be in motion; what is in motion is not frozen; what is not frozen is liquid; what is liquid gives way. So logicians[*](Specifically Chrysippus (Cf. von Arnim, S.V.F. ii, pp. 726 f.). Cf. Sextus Empiricus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism, i. 69 (the whole passage i. 62-72 is worth reading); Aelian, De Natura Animal. vi. 59; Philo, 45 (p. 122).) assert that a dog, at a point where many paths split off, makes use of a multiple disjunctive[*](For the form of the syllogism see Diogenes Laertius, vii. 81.) argument and reasons with himself: Either the wild beast has taken this

path, or this, or this. But surely it has not taken this, or this. Then it must have gone by the remaining road. Perception here affords nothing but the minor premiss, while the force of reason gives the major premisses and adds the conclusion to the premisses. A dog, however, does not need such a testimonial, which is both false and fraudulent; for it is perception itself, by means of track and spoor,[*](Cf. Shorey on Plato, Republic, 427 e (L.C.L., vol. I, p. 347, note e).) which indicates the way the creature fled; it does not bother with disjunctive and copulative propositions. The dog’s true capacity may be discerned from many other acts and reactions and the performance of duties, which are neither to be smelled out nor seen by the eye, but can be carried out or perceived only by the use of intelligence and reason.[*](For the philosophic dog see Plato, op. cit. 376 b; the scholia of Olympiodorus add that Socrates’ famous oath by the dog was symbolic of the creature’s rational nature. See also Sinclair, Class. Rev. xlii (1948), p. 61; the parallel passages are collected by J. E. B. Mayor, Class. Rev. xii (1898), pp. 93 ff.) I should only make myself ridiculous if I described the dog’s self-control and obedience and sagacity on hunting parties to you who see and handle these matters every day.

There was a Roman named Calvus[*](See Aelian, De Natura Animal. vii. 10.) slain in the Civil Wars, but no one was able to cut off his head until they encircled and stabbed to death the dog who guarded his master and defended him. And King Pyrrhus[*](Cf. Aelian, loc. cit.; Pliny, Nat. Hist. viii. 142.) on a journey chanced upon a dog guarding the body of a murdered man; in answer to his questions he was told that the dog had remained there without eating for three days and refused to leave. Pyrrhus gave orders for the corpse to be buried and the dog cared for and brought along

in his train. A few days later there was an inspection of the soldiers, who marched in front of the king seated on his throne, while the dog lay quietly by his side. But when it saw its master’s murderers filing past, it rushed at them with furious barking and, as it voiced its accusation, turned to look at the king so that not only he, but everyone present, became suspicious of the men. They were at once arrested and when put to the question, with the help of some bits of external evidence as well, they confessed the murder and were punished.

The same thing is said to have been done by the poet Hesiod’s[*](Cf. 984 d infra. A different account, omitting the dog, will be found in Mor. 162 c-f (where see Wyttenbach’s note); Cf. also Pollux, Onomasticon, v. 42 and Gabathüler on Anth. Pal. vii. 55 (Hellenistische Epigramme auf Dichter, p. 31).) dog, which convicted the sons of Ganyctor the Naupactian, by whom Hesiod had been murdered. But a matter which carne to the attention of our fathers when they were studying at Athens is even plainer than anything so far mentioned. A certain fellow slipped into the temple of Asclepius,[*](The same story in Aelian, De Natura Animal. vii. 13, indicates a literary source. See now E. R. Dodds, The Greeks and the Irrational, p. 114 and n. 65.) took such gold and silver offerings as were not bulky, and made his escape, thinking that he had not been detected. But the watchdog, whose name was Capparus, when none of the sacristans responded to its barking, pursued the escaping temple-thief. First the man threw stones at it, but could not drive it away. When day dawned, the dog did not approach close, but followed the man, always keeping him in sight, and refused the food he offered. When he stopped to rest, the dog passed the night on guard; when he struck out again, the dog got up and kept following, fawning on the other people it met

on the road and barking at the man and sticking to his heels. When those who were investigating the robbery learned this from men who had encountered the pair and were told the colour and size of the dog, they pursued all the more vigorously and overtook the man and brought him back from Crommyon. On the return the dog led the procession, capering and exultant, as though it claimed for itself the credit for pursuing and capturing the temple-thief. The people actually voted it a public ration of food and entrusted the charge of this to the priests in perpetuity, thereby imitating the ancient Athenian kindness to the mule. For when Pericles was building the Hecatompedon[*](Better known as the Parthenon; cf. Mor. 349 d, Life of Pericles, xiii. 7 (159 e).) on the Acropolis, stones were naturally brought by numerous teams of draught-animals every day. Now one of the mules who had assisted gallantly in the work, but had now been discharged because of old age, used to go down every day to the Ceramicus and meet the beasts which brought the stones, turning back with them and trotting along by their side, as though to encourage and cheer them on. So the people of Athens, admiring its enterprise, gave orders for it to be maintained at the public expense, voting it free meals, as though to an athlete who had succumbed to old age.[*](Cf. Life of Cato Maior, v. 3 (339 a-b). Aelian, De Natura Animal. vi. 49, agrees in the main with Plutarch’s account; Aristotle, Historia Animal. vi. 24 (577 b 34), says merely that a public decree was passed forbidding bakers to drive the creature away from their trays. He adds that the mule was 80 years old and is followed by Pliny, Nat. Hist. viii. 175.)