The dog, therefore, seems to understand this attitude in a man, just as he does the still more prostrate one employed by himself, for, in truth, it is very similar. A man who meditates attack, or intends to defend himself, stands firm and erect, with chest expanded and head thrown back. When he sinks to the ground, with his head hung, his arms resting passively, and his chest drawn in—as follows naturally from the position—all this is reversed, and the one posture as strongly expresses submission, or, at least, a peaceable intent, as the other does war and defiance. I do not imagine, however, that man has really studied the dog’s method and made use of it himself in order to disarm him, but rather that his own mode of expression is governed by the same principle, and that having been accustomed to deprecate the wrath of a superior by crouching before him, he puts the same plan in practice to mitigate canine fury. The jackals of Ceylon—as no doubt of India and other countries—employ the same kind of stratagem for the securing of prey, as do wolves and foxes. A pack of them will surround any covert having a limited area, into which they have seen a hare or one of the smaller kinds of deer enter, and some always take care to station themselves about the path where the game entered, and by which they know it will most likely come out again. Possibly their places may be assigned to the various members of the pack by the leader, for it is he, we are told, who gives the signal for the attack to commence, by first raising his voice in the loud and peculiar cry which all who live in lands where jackals roam know so well. “Okkay! okkay! okkay!” he repeats in howl upon howl; “Okkay! okkay! okkay!” come the answering cries of the rest, and into the jungle they all dash, and out of it, shortly afterwards, at the expected place, dashes, if all goes well, the terrified animal, to be pulled down on the outskirts.