However, there is an attractive alternative theory: the dogs selected us. It was the dogs that trained the humans. In this scenario, humans that were willing to allow wolf pups into the cave, and had the ability to train them, were rewarded by the dogs, for example by a willingness to assist in the hunt. Those humans that performed best at these tasks found it easier to acquire new pups and train new generations. The selection on the human side would have been cultural rather than genetic, because there hasn't been enough time for genetic influences to make a lot of difference directly. However, there may well have been selection on the genetic level for having enough intelligence to appreciate how useful a trained wolf could be, or having the generalised teaching skills, such as persistence, to carry out successful training. At any rate, the tribe as a whole benefited from those few individuals who could train proto-dogs, so that the selective pressure in favour of generalised dog-training genes must have been slight.
This isn't one of those either-or choices: we are not obliged to accept one theory to the exclusion of the other. And this is a point we should make very firmly, for this and many other theories: things happen, all over the place and apparently in some confusion, and afterwards mankind goes and chops it all up into 'stories'. We need to do it like that that, but occasionally we should stand back and realise what it is we are doing.
In the case of the dogs, there is in all likelihood a fair amount of truth in both theories, and what happened was a complicit co-evolution of dogs and people. As dogs became more obedient and easier to train, people became more willing to train them; as people became more willing to consider possessing a dog, the dogs became more adept at playing along and making themselves useful.
The situation is, perhaps, more clear-cut with cats. Here it was very much a case of the cats being in the driving-seat. Rudyard Kipling's Just-So Story of 'The Cat That Walks By Itself' is too naive an acceptance of the impression that cats set out to give - that they do things their own way and merely tolerate those people who play along -but in most cases you can't train a cat. Very few cats are willing to perform tricks, whereas many dogs visibly enjoy performing for human pleasure. To the ancient Egyptians, cats were tiny gods on Earth, personified in the cat-goddess Bastet. Bastet was originally worshipped around Bubastis, in the Nile delta, and she had a lion's head; later, this transmuted (transmogrified?) into a cat's head. Bastet-worship then spread to Memphis, where she became conflated with Sakhmet, a local lion-headed goddess. Bastet was a generalised goddess of things that were especially important to women, such as fertility and safe childbirth. Cats were also worshipped, as godling avatars of Bastet -and they were often mummified because of their religious significance. There was a sort of dog-god, the jackal- headed Anubis, but the difference was that he had a substantial 'hands-on' job: he was the god of embalming, and his role was to assist (or impede) the passage of the dead through the underworld. Anubis judged whether the dead were worthy of the afterlife. The only duties that the cat-godlings had were to allow humans to worship them.
Nothing new there, then.
Even today, cats assiduously give the impression of being independent; they seldom come when called, and are liable to depart at a moment's notice for reasons that are never very clear. All cat- owners know, however, that this impression is superficiaclass="underline" their cats need attention, and know it.
But this need shows up indirectly. For example. Ian's cat 'Ms Garfield' usually comes out to the front of the house to greet the arrival of the family car, but her pleasure at the car's appearance is heavily disguised as a strident harangue: 'Where the bloody hell have you lot been?' After absences on holiday or overseas, family members find that whenever they are in the garden, the cat coincidentally is in the same part of the garden -but either asleep or apparently just passing through. It looks as though house-cats are slowly losing the domestication battle, but putting up a strong fight. Feral cats are another matter, and real working cats like farm cats are often genuinely independent. These days, though, many farm cats are treated much like house-cats. At any rate, there are some good research projects still to be carried out on the co-evolution of ancient humans and their livestock and pets.
In another instance of this co-evolution, the horse made chivalry a possible culture (hence the name, of course: compare the French cheval') and enabled the Mongols to achieve one of the largest, best-controlled empires in human history. Under the Khans it was said that a virgin could walk unmolested from Seville to Hang Chou. Only in the twentieth century was that again achievable, with luck and possibly a harder search for the virgin. The Spanish took horses to America, where humans had killed off several equine species some 13,000 years before,38 and changed the lives of all the North American Indian tribes -and the cowboys, of course. And, a little later, Hollywood.
The horse did wonders for the genetics of humans, too. Just as they say that the invention of the bicycle saved East Anglia from an incest implosion, so the people that had come out of Africa were only a tiny part of early Homo sapiens's genetic diversity. All recent studies of the DNA
genetics of human populations agree that the genetic diversity outside Africa is only a tiny fraction of the diversity that is still found on that continent. Those who left, to go as far as Australia or China, to Western Europe or via the high Arctic to America, are less diverse in total than many small indigenous African peoples. With the arrival of the horse, it became possible for traders to carry goods - and gene alleles - for very long distances, very effectively. So the out-of- Africa humans have inherited a relatively small part of the African gene-pooclass="underline" they are genetically impoverished, but well stirred.
At the end of the twentieth century there was, for some years, a belief that Homo sapiens was a polyphyletic species. This word means that different groups of Homo sapiens evolved from different groups of Homo erectus in different places. This, it was thought, might account for the racial differences, especially differences in skin pigmentation, that seemed to fit geography pretty well. From DNA studies, we now know this theory can't be true. On the contrary, there was a bottleneck in our population as we came out of Africa -humanity was reduced to rather small numbers -and all of us living today, all of the out-of-Africa 'races', were extracted from that small population. All the Homo erectus died out. The evidence so far looks as if there was only one exodus, of a minimum of some 100,000 people. We were all there in potentia in that tiny population, Japanese and Eskimos and Norsemen and Sioux and Beaker people and Mandarin Chinese; Indians and Jews and Irishmen. In the same way, all the current kinds of dog were 'present' in the original domesticated wolf (assuming it was indeed a wolf) -that is, they were in the wolfs space of the adjacent possible -and we've pulled out Saint Bernards and chihuahuas and labradors and King Charles spaniels and poodles from that local region of organism-space.
There was, about thirty years ago, a brief fashion for the concept of 'mitochondrial Eve', and many media reports seem to have picked up the idea that there was just one woman, a veritable Eve, in that ancestral bottleneck. This is nonsense, but the media reports were written up to encourage the belief. The real story, as always, was a little more complicated, and it goes like this. There are mitochondria in the cells of people, indeed of most animals and plants. These are the billions-of-generations, descendants of symbiotic bacteria, and they still have some of their ancient DNA heredity, called mitochondrial DNA. Mitochondria from the mother go into the embryo's cells, but those from father do not: they die, or go only into the placenta. In any event, mitochondrial inheritance is very nearly all maternal. The mitochondrial DNA accumulates mutations over time, with important genes changing less (presumably because the resulting babies, if any, were defective) and some DNA sequences changing quite quickly. That enables us to judge how far back it is to the common ancestor of any pair of women, from the accumulated differences in several DNA sequences. Surprisingly, nearly all such pairs from very different women converge on to a single consensus sequence, about 70,000 years ago.