Chapter IX: Front Matter (9)

Lizards, serpents, and reptiles of every description abound in various parts of the African continent, though its general aridity, throughout extensive regions, is less favorable to the development of reptile life than in the case of correspondent latitudes elsewhere. The crocodile inhabits all the large rivers of tropical Africa, and is abundant in the lower portion of the Nile. The huge python, sometimes twenty-two feet in length (though inferior in size to the boa of the New World), is found in the swamps and morasses of the western coast, and some species of the cobra (or hooded snake) occur--chiefly in Southern Africa and on the shores of Guinea. Insects abound, both in species and as individuals; among them is the locust, which at intervals ravages all the northern parts of the continent. But the termites, or white ants, of Western Africa are the most celebrated members of the insect family, and effect the most extraordinary destruction of furniture, books, clothes, food, and everything that comes in their way. They build pyramidal or conical nests, firmly cemented together, and divided into several apartments--so large that at first sight they appear in the distance like the villages of the natives. Both the bee and the wasp are numerously distributed, but the bee has not been domesticated by any of the native people of this continent; it is, however, reared by the Arabs in Northern Africa.

The New World exhibits, through its vast prolongation in the direction of latitude, a development of animal life which is almost infinitely varied, and which differs in many essential regards from that belonging to either of the continents of the Eastern Hemisphere. Each of the nine orders of Mammalia is represented within its limits, but many of the most attractive and valuable members of the animal life of Asia and Africa are nevertheless wanting. America has neither the elephant nor the camel; and neither the horse, the ox, the sheep, nor the hog is indigenous to it.

The Carnivora of the New World are inferior in size, strength, and ferocity to those of Asia and Africa. In place of the lion, America has only the puma--a smaller and less powerful creature. The tiger of Southern Asia is represented by the jaguar, a somewhat smaller animal, but the most powerful of the American carnivora. In North America, however, the numerous bears are distinguished by their size and power, particularly the grizzly bear of the countries which border upon the Rocky Mountains. The great white bear of the polar regions is common to the high latitudes of either hemisphere. North America, which is more strictly continental in extent than the southern half of the New World, possesses, indeed, other types of animal life which rival those of the Eastern Hemisphere. Among these are the majestic bison, or American buffalo, together with the elk or moose-deer, occupying a place similar to the reindeer of Northern Europe and Asia. Several varieties of the deer-kind occur in the northern half of the continent, together with the musk-ox, the big-horned sheep, and the Rocky Mountain goat, which are peculiar to this region.

The tapir and the peccary (an animal of the hog kind) range all over the plains of South America, and the former is also found on the coast of Central America. The puma (or cougar) occurs on the Mexican Isthmus, and even as far northward as the 45th parallel, though found most numerously in the southern half of the continent, where its range extends to within a few degrees of the Strait of Magellan. The jaguar is found in the coast regions of the Mexican Isthmus, as well as the forests of Brazil and the adjoining regions of South America. The lynx and the wolf belong to the colder tracts of North America.

The opossums are numerous in South America, and one species is met with in the United States (Virginia); this family (Marsupialia) is altogether absent from the eastern continent, but is fully developed in the Australian division of the globe. The beaver abounds in the colder latitudes of North America, together with a vast number of other fur-bearing animals; as raccoons, martens, squirrels, sea-otters, minks, muskrats, ermines, foxes, wolverines, and hares.

The llama tribe (comprehending, besides the llama, the alpaca, vicuna, and others), is peculiar to South America. Its members are found throughout the prolonged cordilleras of the western side of that continent, from Chili to New Granada, dwelling always at considerable heights above the level of the sea. The llama belongs to the same order (Ruminantia) as the camel of the Old World, and supplies some of the uses of that animal as a beast of burden. Prior to the Spanish conquest, the llama was, indeed, the only beast of burden which the natives of South America possessed. The tapir of the same continent (an animal about the size of a small cow, and readily distinguished by the downward bend of its snout) belongs to the order of pachyderms. Two species of tapir, both of them peculiar to that region, inhabit South America: a third species is native to the island of Sumatra, and the adjacent Malay peninsula, in Southeastern Asia.

The paca and cutia (or agouti) both of a family which is peculiar to South America, take the place of the hare and rabbit of the Old World, and belong, like those animals, to the order of rodents. Both are used as food. The capybara and the common guinea-pig belong to the same order. The chinchilla, another of the South American rodents, valued for its delicate fur, is confined to the southern portions of the Andes.

The sloth, ant-eater, and armadillo (all belonging to the order of Edentata), are natives of South America.

Monkeys are exceedingly numerous all over that continent, especially in the forests of Brazil. These, however, are different in species from the monkeys of the Eastern Hemisphere; they are of smaller size, and (with the exception of one nearly tailless species, found within the forests of the Upper Amazons, within a very limited area) all possess tails, mostly prehensile. None of the apes of the New World makes the same approach to the human form which is found either in the chimpanzee and gorilla of Western Africa or the orang of Southeastern Asia. Toward the close of the day the howling monkeys of Brazil make the woods resound with the most frightful cries; but they are neither of large size nor of formidable powers. The family of lemurs, so abundant in the eastern half of the globe, has not a single representative in the New World. The marmosets, a family confined to America, are numerous within the regions of the lower Amazons.

Bats are very numerous in South America--more so than in any other part of the world: among them is the large vampire-bat, to which popular rumor has assigned the most bloodthirsty propensities, though it is in reality perfectly harmless, feeding chiefly upon fruits, with a few insects. All the American bats differ in species from those of the eastern continent.

The ornithology of tropical America exceeds in splendor that of any other region of the globe. Among the principal birds of prey are several species of eagle, including the large white-headed eagle of the United States, with vultures, hawks, kites, and owls. South America, however, possesses the largest of the vulture tribe--the gigantic condor of the Andes, which is confined to the higher peaks of those mountains, bordering on the limits of the snowy region. This is one of the most powerful and rapacious of birds, and commits numerous ravages among the cattle, deer, and other animals. The American ostrich, or emu, which dwells in the pampas of that region, is also distinguished by its size. The turkey is American, and is the only one of the domestic poultry that has been derived from the New World.[9] The toucans, distinguished by their enormous bills, are peculiar to America.

The humming-birds are peculiar to the western continent, and in the tropical regions of America various birds of the most glittering plumage, together with numberless fire-flies, lend an almost magical charm to the aspect of nature. The range of the humming-birds extends over the whole continent to the southward of the 42d parallel (north lat.) and stretches upon the western side of North America as high as the parallel of 60°--an evidence of the superior warmth which distinguishes that side of the American continent.

Both reptiles and insects are abundant in the New World, which, owing to its excessive moisture and dense vegetation, is peculiarly suited to the development of these departments of the natural kingdom. Venomous serpents are more numerous in tropical America than in any other part of the globe. The rattlesnake occurs in both divisions of the continent, within the parallels of 44° to the northward and of 30° to the south of the equator; the huge boa-constrictor, the largest of the serpent tribe, and the terror even of the natives, dwells in the marshes and swamps of South America. Huge caymans, iguanas, and other lizards, with numberless alligators and water-snakes, abound in the rivers and temporary lagoons of the same region.

Australia possesses a zoology which is more distinctive than that of any other part of the world. Its native insects, reptiles, birds, and land animals are all strikingly different from those of other regions. The difference is greatest (or, at any rate, most obvious to ordinary observation) in the case of its land animals. Two-thirds of the Australian Mammalia belong to the marsupial order, and the kangaroo, the largest member of that family, surpasses in size any other of its indigenous quadrupeds. The Quadrumana, pachyderms, and ruminants are altogether unrepresented, nor are there any of the larger carnivora, the native dog (already verging on extinction) being the chief among them. In the present day large numbers of the Australian population are employed in rearing the domestic cattle of Europe.

Australia forms in all regards a distinct zoological province, and its insulated position has tended, in greater measure than is the case with any other part of the world, to confine the distinguishing features of its fauna within its own proper limits. The kangaroo family includes numerous distinct species, from the full-sized kangaroo down to the kangaroo-rat. But not a single one of the tribe is found beyond the limits of Australia and the neighboring island of Tasmania. The opossums, which belong to the same order, are only found elsewhere in the New World. The most remarkable, however, among the members of the Australian animal world is that popularly known as the duck-bill (platypus, or ornithorynchus), which constitutes a puzzle to the naturalist. This is a semi-aquatic creature, about twelve or thirteen inches in length, with the body of an otter, a bill like that of the duck, and which lays eggs. As one of the tribe of Mammalia (to which, by its habits, it belongs), the platypus must be classed under the head of Edentata; while, on the other hand, as being oviparous, it may be regarded as belonging to a totally distinct division of the animal world. The platypus frequents the margins of creeks and pools, but remains mostly in the water, and is only approached with difficulty, on account of its extreme shyness. It has a coating of soft fur, variously shaded from black to silver-gray.

Australia is distinguished by an extreme paucity of animal life (in so far as land animals are concerned), in even a higher degree than by the limited number of its native species. This is readily explained by the generally arid character of its interior, the scantiness of the native vegetation, and the consequent difficulty of finding food. The traveler may frequently pass over many hundred miles of country without meeting with a single quadruped, and almost without finding the traces of a single land animal. Its characteristics in the latter regard are undergoing, however, a rapid change: the horse and the ox, introduced by the European settlers, have in some cases reverted to a state of nature, and a herd of wild cattle is now not infrequently met with beyond the ordinary limits of the settlers’ range.

The ornithology of Australia is richer and more varied than other branches of its animal life. Its chief distinction consists in the vast proportion of suctorial birds--that is, such birds as derive their principal support from sucking the nectar of flowers. This peculiar organization, restricted in Africa, India, and America to the smallest birds in creation, is here developed very generally, and belongs to species that are as large as an English thrush. The melliphagidæ, or honey-suckers, take the place of the humming-birds of the New World: like all the family to which they belong, they have the tongue terminating in a brush-like bundle of very slender filaments, with which they suck the nectar of flowers.

Among the native Australian birds are a vast number of the parrot tribe, comprehending paroquets, cockatoos, and others, many of them distinguished by the most beautiful plumage. Of birds of prey, eagles, falcons, and hawks are numerous, as well as several owls. The largest among the feathered tribes of Australia is the emu, or cassowary--a bird of the ostrich kind, though of rather inferior size to the African ostrich. It is found chiefly in the southern portions of the continent, but is yearly becoming scarcer under the advance of the settlers.[10]

The scattered islands of the Pacific which, under the name of Polynesia, constitute, in modern geography, one of the divisions of the globe, can hardly be regarded as a distinct zoological region, so obviously has their animal life been derived from other lands. When first visited by European navigators, little more than a century since, the largest quadruped found in the Polynesian groups was the hog, which had probably accompanied the tribes of mankind by whom they were peopled. The only other land animals were the dog, mouse, and lizard, with a few rats. There were but few reptiles, or insects; fleas, scorpions, cockroaches, and other vermin have since been introduced.

The native fauna of New Zealand is hardly less scanty than that of the smaller groups of the Pacific. The largest animal found there by the first European settlers was the pig, which is probably not indigenous, though it has reverted to a state of nature. Dogs are the only beasts of prey: a few rats and mice complete the list of its Mammalia. There are no marsupials, though New Zealand is nearer by many thousand miles to Australia than to any of the other continents. The feathered tribes are equally few in number, but they include at least one species--now fast approaching extinction--the apteryx (wingless bird), which has no representative elsewhere. The moa, a bird of the ostrich kind, appears to have become extinct within the Nineteenth Century.

CETACEA
--PETER MARK ROGET

Remarkable exemplifications of the law of uniformity of organic structure are furnished by the family of the Cetacea, which includes the whale, the cachalot, the dolphin, and the porpoise, and exhibits the most elementary forms of the type of the Mammalia, of which they represent the early or rudimental stage of development. Here, as before, we have to seek these first elements among the inhabitants of the water: for whenever, in our progress through the animal kingdom, we enter upon a new division, aquatic tribes are always found to compose the lowest links of the ascending chain. Here, also, we observe organic development proceeding with more rapidity, and raising structures of greater dimensions in aquatic than in terrestrial animals. The order Cetacea comprises by far the largest animals which inhabit the globe. Whatever may have been the magnitude of those huge monsters which once moved in the bosom of the primeval ocean, or stalked with gigantic strides across antediluvian plains, and whose scattered remains bear fearful testimony of the convulsions of a former world, certain it is that, at the present day, the whales of the northern seas are the most colossal of the living animal structures existing on the surface of this planet.

A cursory survey of the organization of the tribes belonging to this semi-amphibious family will impress us with the resemblance they bear to fishes; for they present the same oval outline of the body, the same compact form of the trunk, which is united with the head without an intervening neck; the same fin-like shape of the external instruments of motion and the same enormous expansion and prolongation of the tail, which is here also, as in fishes, the chief agent in progression. With all this agreement in external characters, their internal economy is conducted upon a totally different plan; for although constantly inhabiting the ocean, their vital organs are so constructed as to admit of their breathing only the air of the atmosphere, and the consequences which flow from this difference are of great importance. The necessity of aerial respiration compels them to rise, at short intervals, to the surface of the water; and this air, with which they fill their lungs in respiration, gives their bodies the buoyant force that is required to facilitate their ascent, and supersedes the necessity of a swimming bladder, an organ which is so useful to the fish.

With the intent of diminishing still further their specific gravity, Nature has provided that a large quantity of oily fluid shall be collected under the skin, a provision which answers, also, the purpose of preserving the vital warmth of the body. A great accumulation of this lighter substance is formed on the upper part of the head, apparently with a view to facilitate the elevation to the surface of the blowing hole, or orifice of the nostrils, which is placed there.[11]

Another peculiarity of conformation, in which the Cetacea differ from fishes, and which has also an obvious relation to their peculiar mode of breathing, is in the form of the tail, which, instead of being compressed laterally and inflected from side to side, as in fishes, is flattened horizontally, and strikes the water in a vertical direction, thereby giving the body a powerful impulsion, either toward the surface, when the animal is constrained to rise, or downward, when, by diving, it hastens to escape from danger.

All the essential and permanent parts of the skeleton of vertebrated animals, that is, the spinal column, and its immediate dependencies, the skull, the caudal prolongation, and the ribs are found in that of the Cetacea. The thorax is carried very much forward, especially in the whale, and the neck is so short as to be scarcely recognizable: for the object of the conformation is here, as in that of the fish, to allow free scope for the movements of the tail and ample space for the lodgment of its muscles. For the purpose of giving greater power and more extensive attachment to these muscles, the transverse processes of the dorsal and lumbar vertebræ are expanded both in length and breadth, and, being situated horizontally, offer no impediment to the vertical flexure of the spine. For the same reason the ribs are continued in a line with the transverse processes, and articulated with their extremities, thus giving still further breadth to the trunk.

As there is a total absence of hinder extremities, so there is no enlargement of any of the vertebræ corresponding to a sacrum, and the caudal vertebræ are uninterrupted continuations of those of the trunk. They develop, however, parts which are met with only among fishes and reptiles, namely, arches composed of inferior leaves and spinous processes, inclosing and giving protection to a large artery. Although the bones of the legs do not exist, yet there are found, in the hinder and lower part of the trunk, concealed in the flesh, and quite detached from the spine, two small bones, apparently corresponding to pelvic bones, for the presence of which no more probable reason can be assigned than the tendency to preserve an analogy with the more developed structures of the same type.

A similar adherence to the law of uniformity in the plan of construction of all the animals belonging to the same class, is strikingly shown in the conformation of the bones of the anterior extremities of the Cetacea; for, although they present, externally, no resemblance to the leg and foot of a quadruped, being fashioned into fin-like members, with a flat, oval surface for striking the water, yet, when the bones are stripped of the thick integument which covers them and conceals their real form, we find them exhibiting the same divisions into carpal and metacarpal bones, and phalanges of fingers, as exist in the most highly developed organization, not merely of a quadruped, but also of a monkey, and even of man.

HUNTING AND FISHING OF ANIMALS
--FRÉDÉRIC HOUSSAY

The search for food has necessarily been the cause of the earliest industries among animals. It is easy to understand that the herbivora need little ingenuity in seeking nourishment; they are so superior to their prey that they can obtain it and feed on it by the sole fact of an organization adapted to its assimilation. They are, it is true, at the mercy of circumstances over which they have no control, and which lead to famine. The carnivora also may have to suffer from the absence of prey, but even in the most favorable seasons, and in the regions where the animals on which they live abound, it is necessary for them to develop a special activity to obtain possession of beings who are suspicious, prompt in flight, and as fleet as themselves. Thus it is among these that we expect to find the art of hunting most cultivated; especially if we put aside the more grossly carnivorous of them, whose whole organization is adapted for rapid and effective results.

The most rudimentary method of hunting in ambush is simply to take advantage of some favorable external circumstance to obtain concealment, and then to await the approach of the prey. Some animals place themselves behind a tuft of grass, others thrust themselves into a thicket, or hang on to the branch of a tree in order to fall suddenly on the victim who innocently approaches the perfidious ambush. The crocodile, as described by Sir Samuel Baker, conceals himself by his skill in plunging noiselessly. On the bank a group of birds have alighted. They search the mud for insects or worms, or simply approach the stream to drink or bathe. In spite of his great size and robust appetite the crocodile does not disdain this slight dish; but the least noise, the least wrinkle on the surface of the water would cause the future repast to vanish. The reptile plunges, the birds continue without suspicion to come and go. Suddenly there emerges before them the huge open jaw armed with formidable teeth. In the moment of stupor and immobility which this unforeseen apparition produces a few imprudent birds have disappeared within the reptile’s mouth, while the others fly away. In the same sly and brutal manner he snaps up dogs, horses, oxen, and even men who come to the river to drink.

One of the most dangerous ambushes which can be met on the road by animals who resort to a spring is that prepared by the python. This gigantic snake hangs by his tail to the branch of a tree and lets himself droop down like a long creeper. The victim who comes within his reach is seized, enrolled, pounded in the knots which the snake forms around him. It is not necessary to multiply examples of this simple and widespread method of hunting.

Not content with utilizing the natural arrangements they meet with, there are animals which construct genuine ambushes, acting thus like man, who builds in the middle or on the edge of ponds, cabins in which to await wild ducks, or who digs in the path of a lion a hole covered with trunks of trees, at the bottom of which he may kill the beast without danger. Certain insects practice this method of hunting. The fox, for instance, so skilful a hunter in many respects, constructs an ambush when hunting hares.

The larva of the tiger beetle (Cicindela campestris) constructs a hole about the size of a feather quill, disposed vertically, and of a depth, enormous for its size, of forty centimetres. It maintains itself in this tube by arching its supple body along the walls at a height sufficient for the top of its head to be level with the surface of the soil, and to close the opening of the hole. A little insect--an ant, a young beetle, or something similar--passes. As soon as it begins to walk on the head of the larva, the latter letting go its hold of the wall allows itself to fall to the bottom of the trap, dragging its victim with it. In this narrow prison it is easily able to obtain the mastery over its prey, and to suck out the liquid parts.

The Staphilinus Cæsareus acts with still greater shrewdness; not only is his pit more perfect, but he takes care to remove all traces of preceding repasts which might render the place obviously one of carnage. He chooses a stone, beneath which he hollows a cylindro-conical hole with extremely smooth walls. This hole is not to serve as a trap, that is to say that the proprietor has no intention of causing any pedestrian to roll to the bottom. It is simply a place of concealment in which he awaits the propitious moment. No creature is more patient than this insect, and no delay discourages him. As soon as some small animal approaches his hiding-place he throws himself on it impetuously, kills it, and devours it. Near his ditch he has hollowed a second of a much coarser character, the walls of which have not been smoothed with the same care. One here sees elytra and claws piled up; they are the hard and horny parts which he has not been able to eat. The heap in this ditch is not then an alimentary store. It is the _oubliette_ in which the Staphilinus buries the remains of his victims. If he allowed them to accumulate around his hole all pedestrians would come to fear this spot and to avoid it. It would be like the dwelling of a polypus, which is marked by the numerous carapaces of crabs and shells which strew the neighborhood.

The ambuscade of the ant-lion is classic; it does not differ greatly from the others. He excavates a conical pitfall, in which he conceals himself, and seizes the unfortunate ants and other insects whom ill-chance causes to roll into it.

A variety of ambush which brings the baited ambush method of hunting to considerable perfection lies in inciting the prey to approach the hiding-place instead of trusting to chance to bring it there. In such circumstances man places some allurement in the neighborhood--that is to say, one of the foods preferred by the desired victim, or at least some object which recalls the form of that food, as, for example, an artificial fly to obtain possession of certain fishes.

It is curious to find that fish themselves utilize this system; it is the method adopted by the angler and the Uranoscopus. The Uranoscopus scaber lives in the Mediterranean. At the end of his lower jaw there is developed a mobile and supple filament which he is able to use with the greatest dexterity. Concealed in the mud, without moving and only allowing the end of his head to emerge, he agitates and vibrates his filament. The little fishes who prowl in the neighborhood, delighted with the sight of this apparent worm, regarding it as a destined prey, throw themselves on to it, but before they are able to bite and recognize their error they have disappeared in the mouth of the proprietor of the bait.

The angler (Lophius piscatorius) has not usurped his rather paradoxical name. He retires to the midst of the sea-weed and algæ. On his body and all round his head he bears fringed appendages which, by their resemblance to the leaves of marine plants, aid the animal to conceal himself. The color of his body also does not contrast with neighboring objects. From his head arise three movable filaments formed by three spines detached from the upper fin. He makes use of the anterior one, which is the longest and most supple. Working in the same way as the Uranoscopus, the angler agitates his three filaments, giving them as much as possible the appearance of worms, and thus attracting the little fish on which he feeds.

All these methods of hunting or of fishing by surprises are for the most part practiced by the less agile species which can not obtain their prey by superior fleetness. Midway between these two methods may be placed that which consists in surprising game when some circumstance has rendered it motionless. Sometimes it is sleep which places it at the mercy of the hunter, whose art in this case consists in seeking out its dwelling. Sometimes he profits by the youth of the victim, like all bird-nesters, whose aim is to eat the eggs or to devour the young while still incapable of flying. The animals who eat birds’ eggs are numerous both among mammals and reptiles, as well as among birds themselves.

The alligator of Florida and of Louisiana delights in this chase. He seeks in particular the great boat-tail (Quiscalus major) which nests in the reeds at the edge of marshes and ponds. When the young have come out and are expecting from their parents the food which the chances of the hunt may delay, they do not cease chirping and calling by their cries. But the parents are not alone in hearing these appeals. They may also strike the ears of the alligator, who furtively approaches the imprudent singers. With a sudden stroke of his tail he strikes the reeds and throws into the water one or more of the hungry young ones, who are then at his mercy.

The animals who feed on species living in societies either seize on their prey when isolated or when all the members of the colony are united in their city. A search for the nest is necessary in the case of creatures who are very small in comparison with the hunter, as in the case of ants and the ant-eater. But the ant-eater possesses a very long and sticky tongue, which renders the capture of these insects extremely easy; when he finds a frequented passage it is enough to stretch out his tongue; all the ants come of their own accord and place themselves on it, and when it is sufficiently charged he withdraws it and devours them. The African Orycteropus, who is also a great eater of ants and especially of termites, is equally aided by a very developed tongue; but he has less patience than the ant-eater, and he adds to this resource other proceedings which render the hunt more fruitful and enable him to obtain a very large number of insects at one time. Thanks to his keenness of scent he soon discovers an ant-path bearing the special and characteristic odor which these Hymenoptera leave behind them, and he follows the track which leads to their nest. On arriving there, without troubling himself about the scattered insects that prowl in the neighborhood, he sets himself to penetrate into the midst of the dwelling, and with his strong claws hollows out a passage which enables him to gain access. On the way he pierces walls, breaks down floors, gathering here and there some fugitives, and arrives at last at the centre, in which millions of animals swarm. He then swallows them in large mouthfuls and retires, leaving behind him a desert and a ruin in the spot before occupied by a veritable palace, full of prodigious activity.

The colonies are not only exposed to the devastations of those who feed on their members; they have other enemies in the animals who covet their stores of food. The most inveterate robber of bees is the nocturnal Death’s Head moth. When he has succeeded in penetrating the hive the stings of the proprietors who throw themselves on him do not trouble him, thanks to his thick fleece of long hairs which the sting can not penetrate; he makes his way to the cells, rips them open, gorges himself with honey, and causes such havoc that in Switzerland, in certain years when these butterflies were abundant, numbers of hives have been found absolutely empty. Many other marauders and of larger size, such as the bear, also spread terror among these laborious insects and empty their barns. No animal is more crafty than the raven, and the fabulist who wished to make him a dupe was obliged to oppose to him the very cunning fox in order to render the tale fairly life-like. A great number of stories are told concerning the raven’s cleverness, and many of them are undoubtedly true. There is no bolder robber of nests. He swallows the eggs and eats the little ones of the species who can not defend themselves against him; he even seeks the eggs of sea-gulls on the coast; but in this case he must use cunning, for if he is discovered it means a serious battle. On the coast also the raven seeks to obtain possession of the hermit-crab. This crustacean dwells in the empty shells of gasteropods. At the least alarm he retires within this shell and becomes invisible, but the bird advances with so much precaution that he is often able to seize the crab before he has time to hide himself. If the raven fails he turns the shell over and over until the impatient crustacean allows a claw to emerge; he is then seized and immediately devoured.

If there is a question of hunting larger game like a hare, the raven prefers to take an ally. They start him at his burrow and pursue him flying. In spite of his proverbial rapidity the hare is scarcely able to flee more than two hundred yards. He succumbs beneath vigorous blows on his skull from the beaks of his assailants. During winter, in the high regions of the Alps, when the soil is covered with snow, this chase is particularly fruitful for ravens. The story is told of that unfortunate hare who had hollowed out in the snow a burrow with two entrances. Two of these birds having recognized his presence, one entered one hole in order to dislodge the hare, the other awaited him at the other opening to batter his head with blows from his beak and kill him before he had time to gain presence of mind.

Rooks sometimes hunt in burrows by ingeniously concerted operations. Mr. Bernard has described the interesting way in which the rook hunts voles or field-mice in Thuringia. His curiosity was excited by the way in which numerous rooks stood about a field cawing loudly. In a few days this was explained: the field was covered with rooks; the original assemblage had been calling together a mouse-hunt, which could only be successfully carried out by a large number of birds acting in conjunction. By diligently probing the ground and blocking up the network of runs, the voles, one or more at a time, were gradually driven into a corner. The hunt was very successful, and no more voles were seen in that field during the winter.

Other animals are not easily discouraged by the swiftness of their prey; they count on their own resistance in order to tire the game; some of them also manage their pursuit in the most intelligent way, so as to preserve their own strength while the tracked animal’s strength goes on diminishing until exhaustion and fatigue place him at their mercy.

Mammals especially, such as dogs, wolves, and foxes, exercise this kind of chase; it is, exactly, the coursing which man has merely had to direct for his own benefit. Wild dogs pursue their prey united in immense packs. They excite each other by barking while they frighten the game and half paralyze his efforts. No animal is agile and strong enough to be sure of escaping. They surround him and cut off his retreat in a most skilful manner; gazelles and antelopes, in spite of their extreme nimbleness and speed, are caught at last; boars are rapidly driven into a corner; their vigorous defence may cost the life of some of the assailants, but they nevertheless become the prey of the band who rush on to the quarry. In Asia wild dogs do not fear even to attack the tiger.

Wolves hunt also in considerable bands. Their audacity, especially when pressed by hunger in the bad season, is well known. In time of war they follow armies, to attack stragglers and to devour the dead. In Siberia they pursue sledges on the snow with terrible perseverance, and the pack is not delayed by the massacre of those who are shot. A few stop to devour at once their fallen comrades, while the others continue the pursuit.

Besides these brutal chases wolves seem able to exercise a genuine feint. Sometimes it is a couple who hunt in concert. If they meet a flock, as they are well aware that the dog will bravely defend the animals intrusted to him, that he is vigilant, and that his keen scent will bring him on them much sooner than the shepherd, it is with him that they first occupy themselves. The two wolves approach secretly; then suddenly one of them unmasks and attracts the attention of the dog, who rushes after him with such ardor that he fails to perceive that in the meantime the second thief has seized the sheep and dragged it into the wood. The dog finally renounces his pursuit of the fugitive and returns to his flock. Then the two confederates join each other and share the prey. In other circumstances it is a wolf who hunts with his female. When they wish to obtain possession of a deer, whose robust flight may last a long time, one of the couple, the male, for example, pursues him and directs his chase in such a way that the game must pass by a place where the female wolf is concealed. She then takes up the chase while the male reposes. It is an organized system of relays. The strength of the deer becomes necessarily exhausted; he can not resist the animation shown by his active foe, and is seized and killed. Then the other wolf calmly approaches the place of the feast to share his part of the booty.

The fox also successfully uses this method of coursing with relays.

It has often been repeated that man is the only creature sufficiently intelligent to utilize as weapons exterior objects like a stone or a brick; in a much greater degree, therefore, it was said, was he the only creature capable of striking from afar with a projectile. Nevertheless creatures so inferior as fish exhibit extreme skill in the art of reaching their prey at a distance. Several act in this way. There is first the Toxotes jaculator, who lives in the rivers of India. His principal food is formed by the insects who wander over the leaves of aquatic plants. To wait until they fell into the water would naturally result in but meagre fare. To leap at them with one bound is difficult, not to mention that the noise would cause them to flee. The Toxotes knows a better trick than that. He draws in some drops of water, and, contracting his mouth, projects them with so much force and certainty that they rarely fail to reach the chosen aim, and to bring into the water all the insects he desires. Other animals also squirt various liquids, sometimes in attack, but more especially in defence. The Cephalopods, for example, emit their ink, which darkens the water and allows them to flee. Certain insects exude bitter or fœtid liquids; but in all these cases, and in others that are similar, the animal finds in his own organism a secretion which happens to be more or less useful to his conservation. The method of the Toxotes is different. It is a foreign body which he takes up, and it is an intended victim at which he takes aim and which he strikes; his movements are admirably co-ordinated to obtain a precise effect.

Another fish, the Chelinous of Java, also acts in this manner. He generally lives in estuaries. It is, therefore, a brackish water which he takes up and projects by closing his gills and contracting his mouth; he can thus strike a fly at a distance of several feet. Usually he aims sufficiently well to strike it at the first blow, but sometimes he fails. Then he begins again until he has succeeded, which shows that his movements are not those of a machine. He knows what he is doing, what effect ought to be produced, and whether this desired result has happened, and he perseveres until the insect has fallen. These facts are unquestioned; the Chinese preserve these curious fish in jars, and amuse themselves by making them carry on this little exercise. Many observers have witnessed and described it.

THE DEATH-FEIGNING INSTINCT
--W. H. HUDSON

Most people are familiar with the phenomenon of “death-feigning,” commonly seen in coleopterous insects and in many spiders. This highly curious instinct is also possessed by some vertebrates. In insects, it is probably due to temporary paralysis occasioned by sudden concussion, for when beetles alight abruptly, though voluntarily, they assume that appearance of death which lasts for a few moments. Some species, indeed, are so highly sensitive that the slightest touch, or even a sudden menace, will instantly throw them into this motionless, death-simulating condition. Curiously enough, the same causes which produce this trance in slow-moving species, like those of Scarabæus, for example, have a precisely contrary effect on species endowed with great activity. Rapacious beetles, when disturbed, scuttle quickly out of sight, and some water-beetles spin about the surface, in circles or zigzag lines, so rapidly as to confuse the eye. The common long-legged spiders (Pholcus) when approached draw their feet together in the middle of the web, and spin the body round with such velocity as to resemble a whirligig.

Certain mammals and birds also possess the death-simulating instinct, though it is hardly possible to believe that the action springs from the same immediate cause in vertebrates and in insects. In the latter, it appears to be a purely physical instinct, the direct result of an extraneous cause, and resembling the motions of a plant. In mammals and birds, it is evident that violent emotion, and not the rough handling experienced, is the final cause of the swoon.

Passing over venomous snakes, skunks, and a few other species in which the presence of danger excites only anger, fear has a powerful, and in some cases a disabling, effect on animals; and it is this paralyzing effect of fear on which the death-feigning instinct, found only in a few widely separated species, has probably been built up by the slow cumulative process of natural selection.

I have met with some curious instances of the paralyzing effect of fear. I was told by some hunters in an outlying district of the pampas of its effect on a jaguar they startled, and which took refuge in a dense clump of dry reeds. Though they could see it, it was impossible to throw the lasso over its head, and after vainly trying to dislodge it, they at length set fire to the reeds. Still it refused to stir, but lay with head erect, fiercely glaring at them through the flames. Finally, it disappeared from sight in the black smoke; and when the fire had burned itself out, it was found, dead and charred, in the same spot.

On the pampas, the Gauchos frequently take the black-necked swan by frightening it. When the birds are feeding or resting on the grass, two or three men or boys on horseback go quietly to leeward of the flock, and, when opposite to it, suddenly wheel and charge it at full speed, uttering loud shouts, by which the birds are thrown into such terror that they are incapable of flying, and are quickly despatched.

I have also seen Gaucho boys catch the silver-bill (Lichenops perspicillata) by hurling a stick or stone at the bird, then rushing at it, when it sits perfectly still, disabled by fear, and allows itself to be taken. I myself once succeeded in taking a small bird of another species in the same way.

Among mammals, our common fox (Canis azaræ), and one of the opossums (Didelphys azaræ), are strangely subject to the death-simulating swoon. For it does indeed seem strange that animals so powerful, fierce and able to inflict such terrible injury with their teeth should also possess this safeguard, apparently more suited to weak inactive creatures that can not resist or escape from an enemy and to animals very low down in the scale of being. When a fox is caught in a trap or run down by dogs, he fights savagely at first, but by and by relaxes his efforts, drops on the ground and apparently yields up the ghost. The deception is so well carried out that dogs are constantly taken in by it, and no one, not well acquainted with this clever trickery of nature, but would at once pronounce the creature dead, and worthy of some praise for having perished in so brave a spirit.

Now, when in this condition of feigning death, I am sure that the animal does not altogether lose consciousness. It is exceedingly difficult to discover any evidence of life in the opossum; but when one withdraws a little way from the feigning fox, and watches him very attentively, a slight opening of the eye may be detected; and finally, when left to himself, he does not recover and start up like an animal that has been stunned, but slowly and cautiously raises his head first, and only gets up when his foes are at a safe distance. Yet I have seen Gauchos, who are very cruel to animals, practice the most barbarous experiments on a captive fox without being able to rouse it into exhibiting any sign of life. This has greatly puzzled me, since if death-feigning is simply a cunning habit, the animal could not suffer itself to be mutilated without wincing. I can only believe that the fox, though not insensible, as its behavior on being left to itself seems to prove, yet has its body thrown by extreme terror into that benumbed condition which simulates death, and during which it is unable to feel the tortures practiced upon it.

The swoon sometimes actually takes place before the animal has been touched, and even when the exciting cause is at a considerable distance. I was once riding with a Gaucho, when we saw, on the open level ground before us, a fox, not yet fully grown, standing still and watching our approach. All at once it dropped, and when we came up to the spot it was lying stretched out, with eyes closed, and apparently dead. Before passing on, my companion, who said it was not the first time he had seen such a thing, lashed it vigorously with his whip for some moments, but without producing the slightest effect.

The death-feigning instinct is possessed in a very marked degree by the spotted tinamou or common partridge of the pampas (Nothura maculosa). When captured, after a few violent struggles to escape, it drops its head, gasps two or three times, and, to all appearances, dies. If, when you have seen this, you release your hold, the eyes open instantly, and, with startling suddenness and a noise of wings, it is up and away and beyond your reach forever. Possibly, while your grasp is on the bird, it does actually become insensible, though its recovery from that condition is almost instantaneous. Birds when captured do sometimes die in the hand, purely from terror. The tinamou is excessively timid, and sometimes when birds of this species are chased--for Gaucho boys frequently run them down on horseback--and when they find no burrows or thickets to escape into, they actually drop dead on the plain. Probably, when they feign death in their captor’s hand, they are in reality very near to death.

BIRDS
--J. ARTHUR THOMSON

Birds are in some ways the highest of the vertebrate animals. They represent the climax of that passage from water to land which the backboned series illustrates. Their skeleton is more modified from the general type than that of mammals; their arrangements for locomotion, breathing, and nutrition are certainly not less perfect; their body temperature, higher than that of any other animals, is an index to the intense activity of their general life; their habitual and adaptive intelligence is familiarly great, while in range of emotion and sense impressions they must be allowed the palm. It is, in fact, only when we emphasize the development of the nervous system, and the closeness of connection between mother and offspring, that the mammals are seen to have a right to their pre-eminence over birds. Birds and mammals represent two divergent lines of progress, and stand in no close connection, but the affinities between birds and reptiles are sufficiently marked to warrant their being included in a common class (Sauropsida), in contrast to the amphibians and fishes (Ichthyopsida) on the one hand, and Mammalia on the other. Among the numerous points of difference which separate birds from their nearest relations, the reptiles, and from mammals, the following may be noticed:

------------------------+-----------------------+------------------+
| REPTILES | BIRDS |
Covering | Scales or scutes | Feathers |
Number of fingers | Always more than three| At most three |
” ” skull condyles| One | One |
Number of aortic arches | At least two | One, right |
Diaphragm | Only incipient | Only incipient |
Blood | Cold | Hottest |
Position of optic lobes | On top of brain | At sides of brain|
Parturition | Ovi- or viviparous | Oviparous |
------------------------+-----------------------+------------------+

------------------------+----------------------
| MAMMALS
Covering | Hair
Number of fingers | Five or fewer
” ” skull condyles| Two
Number of aortic arches | One, left
Diaphragm | Complete
Blood | Warm
Position of optic lobes | Covered up
Parturition | Except two viviparous
------------------------+----------------------

But those contrasts are only a few of the less technical selected from Professor Huxley’s masterly comparison of the three classes. To appreciate the full extent of the resemblances and differences between birds and reptiles, and the contrast between both and mammals, the reader must consult Huxley’s _Anatomy of Vertebrate Animals_.

Most birds use their wings in flight, the feather-covered arms being raised and depressed with great rapidity by means of the breast muscles. Every one who has watched birds is familiar with the marked differences in rapidity and mode of flight. It has been calculated that a common average of rapidity is about 40 to 60 feet per second, but records of the feats of carrier-pigeons, etc., certainly greatly surpass this. It seems probable that strong-winged birds, like eagles, can cover about 80 feet in a second. Buffon noted that they disappeared from sight in about three minutes. Strong birds, like the albatross and birds of prey, can not fly very rapidly, but can sustain their exertions for long periods, while many other birds rarely take prolonged flights, except during migration. The ostrich uses its wings to help it along in its rapid race; some aquatic birds, like the steamer-duck, use them as paddles, auxiliary to their legs. On the ground, birds vary greatly in rate and manner of progression: the swift strides of the ostrich, the rapid run of the partridge, the hopping of the sparrow are well-known illustrations of different gaits. That many birds are expert divers and climbers is also a familiar fact.

The great activity of birds is associated with very efficient respiration. Expiration, or the expulsion of used air, is managed by the contraction of breast and abdominal muscles, which compress the inclosed cavities and force the air from the sacs and lungs. When these muscles are relaxed the cavities again elastically expand, and fresh air rushes in by the windpipe to lungs and air sacs.