The Minds and Manners of Wild Animals: A Book of Personal Observations

I think this strange proceeding is easily explainable by any one with sufficient imagination to put himself in the bird's place. It is the rule of a sitting bird to sit tight, not to be scared off by trifles, and to take great risks rather than expose her eggs to cold and destruction. The ascent and approach of the serpent is absolutely noiseless. Not a leaf is stirred. The potential mother of a brood calmly sits with eyes half closed, at peace with all the world. Suddenly, and with a horrible shock, she discovers a deadly serpent's multi-fanged head and glittering eyes staring at her within easy striking distance. The horrified mother bird feels that she is lost. She knows full well that with any movement to escape the serpent instantly will launch its attack. Her one hope, and seemingly her only chance for life, is that if she remains motionless the serpent will go its way without harming her. (Think of the thousands of helpless men, women and children who have hoped and acted similarly in the presence of bandits and hold-up men presenting loaded revolvers! But they were far from being "charmed.") The bird hopes, and sits still, paralyzed with fear. At its leisure the serpent strikes; and after a certain number of horrible minutes, all is over. I think there is no real "charm" exercised in the tragedy; but that there is on the part of the bird a paralysis of fear, which is in my opinion a well defined emotion, common in animals and in men. I have seen it in many animals.