Intelligence in Nature - Jeremy Narby [6]
It was difficult to know what the macaws had in mind as they feasted on clay. But they were obviously enjoying a very social breakfast before a day of solitary foraging in the forest canopy. I asked my musician friend what he made of it. âThis reminds me of a party,â he said, âor an after-hours, Iâm not sure which. It might even be the rave itself!â
As we sat on the forest floor waiting for the end of the birdsâ riotous clay fest, I pondered the difficulties of gauging intelligence in nature. Here were birds behaving in ways strongly reminiscent of humans, holding loud get-togethers and food fests, and self-medicating by using the most detoxifying clays. They did not behave like machines or automata, but like intelligent beings. Yet the intelligence that seemed to lurk inside them remained elusive and hard to defineâseen and heard, but not grasped.
Suddenly, a hummingbird with a long pointed beak zoomed in on us. The intense beating of its wings sounded like a whirring motor. It remained suspended in midair for long seconds, only a few feet from our faces, appearing to observe us and to size us up. Then it went on its way, searching from flower to flower for nectar.
The parrotsâ get-together came to an end as abruptly as it began. The birds started flying off in different directions over the forest. Within minutes, the party was over, and a crowd of about a thousand had dwindled to a handful of individuals. My watch indicated seven-fifteen. These birds were punctual.
We made our way back to the lodge. Soon we would be getting back into the canoe to continue our voyage downriver. I readied my backpack, then sought out Charlie Munn.
We met in the lobby and had a short exchange. I told him I was starting to research a book on intelligence in nature and asked if he thought macaws act intelligently at clay licks. I expected a quizzical gaze in return, but he looked straight at me and said: âThese are smart birds.â He went on to suggest that I read an article he published in the journal Nature called âBirds That âCry Wolf.ââ He said he had observed birds in the nearby Manu Biosphere Reserve that act as sentinels and give alarm calls when they sight predators, but that sometimes use their power to deceive other birds. These deceptive sentinels occasionally feed themselves by giving out false alarm calls that cause other birds to panic and abandon the insects they have just flushed out of trees. Munn said that deception usually requires intelligence.
I asked whether he thought these birds acted intentionally. He nodded. âThere are even birds in the Manu who can tell the difference between Matsigenkas who work with scientists and those who are hunters. That piece of data is unpublished, and you can put it in your book if you like.â
Later that day, my travel companions and I continued downriver in the motorized canoe. The sun glared down on us, hot and heavy. I stared into the water gliding by. My mind began to wander, and I thought about birds.
Western observers have long minimized the mental capacities of birdsâhence the term birdbrain, meaning âstupid person.â Birds do have small brains relative to humans, but why should small brain size rule out the possibility that birds might think and make decisions?
Members of the crow familyâincluding ravens, magpies, jackdaws, and jaysâgenerally receive the highest notes for intelligence from scientists. For example, one crow, the Clarkâs nutcracker, can remember up to thirty thousand hiding places for the pine seeds it gathers and buries for safekeeping. And in one recent laboratory experiment, scrub jays who cached food while observed by other birds were found to modify their hiding places when the observing birds were no longer presentâindicating both social memory and foresight. But crows are not the only smart birds. Even pigeons appear to be brighter than many people suspect. One recent experiment demonstrated that pigeons can tell the difference between paintings by Van Gogh and Chagall. The birds received training in which they were rewarded for