Language, it is generally agreed, is the property of man alone on this earth. 'Animal language' is a metaphorical term at best, referring to nothing more elaborate than a set of vocal signals that some animals can produce so as to establish contact with their fellows. The range of these signals is niirrow, and their distinctiveness ,%ant. It is possible, indeed easy, to list exhaustively all the different utterances that even the most 'arti.;ulate' animal will ever produce in his life, and no member of the species will invent any new signals or utterances. But it is of course inconceivable to record or foretell the different utterances of one human in his lifetime, let alone Gose of the entire species. Animal signals serve to ammunce matters of simple, albeit often vital, import: the approach of an enemy, the staking out of a territorial claim (the singing of birds), the sole possession of food or of a mat{! henceforth imlcccscible to competitors, leadership over a group, and so forth.1) All such signals are of course species specific. They ue triggered by an attitude and a mood created by the animal's present perceived surroundings. Animal language is made up, then, not of information symbols, but of mood signals.zj