Everywhere in nature, biologists say, are examples of animals behaving as though they were at least vaguely aware of death's brutal supremacy and yet unpersuaded that it had anything to do with them. Michael Wilson, an assistant professor of anthropology at the University of Minnesota who has studied chimpanzees at Jane Goodall's research site in Gombe, said chimps were "very different from us in terms of what they understand about death and the difference between the living and the dead." The Hallmark hanky moment alternates with the Roald Dahl macabre. A mother will try to nurse her dead baby back to life, Wilson said, "but when the infant becomes quite decayed, she'll carry it by just one leg or sling it over her back in a casual way."

Juvenile chimpanzees display signs of genuine grief when their mothers die. In one famous case in Gombe, when a matriarch of the troop named Flo died at the age of 50-plus years, her son, Flint, proved inconsolable. Flint was 8 years old and could easily have cared for himself, but he had been unusually attached to his mother and refused to leave her corpse's side. Within a month, the son, too, died.

Yet adult chimpanzees rarely react with overt sentimentality to the death of another adult, Wilson said. As a rule, sick or elderly adults go off into the forest to die alone, he said, and those that die in company often do so at the hands of other adults, who "sometimes make sure the victim is dead, and sometimes they don't," he said. The same laissez-faire attitude toward death-versus-life applies to chimpanzee hunting behavior. "When they're hunting red colobus monkeys, they will either kill the monkeys first or simply immobilize them and start eating them while they're still alive," Wilson said. "The monkey will continue screaming and thrashing as they pull its guts out, which is very unpleasant for humans who are watching."

For some animals, the death of a conspecific is a little tinkle of the dinner bell. A lion will approach another lion's corpse, give it a sniff and a lick, and if the corpse is fresh enough, will start to eat it. For others, a corpse is considered dangerous and must be properly disposed of. Among naked mole rats, for example, which are elaborately social mammals that spend their entire lives in a system of underground tunnels, a corpse is detected quickly and then dragged, kicked or carried to the communal latrine. And when the latrine is filled, said Paul Sherman of Cornell University, "they seal it off with an earthen plug, presumably for hygienic reasons, and dig a new one."

Among the social insects, the need for prompt corpse management is considered so pressing that there are dedicated undertakers, workers that within a few minutes of a death will pick up the body and hoist or fly it outside, to a safe distance from hive or nest, the better to protect against possible contagious disease. Honeybees are such compulsive housekeepers that if a mouse or other large creature, drawn by the warmth or promise of honey, happens to make its way into the hive and die inside, the bees, unable to bodily remove it, will embalm it in resin collected from trees. "You can find mummified mice inside beehives that are completely preserved right down to their whiskers," said Gene Robinson, professor of entomology at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign.