Disguise.

“Let every soldier hew him down a bough,And bear’t before him; thereby shall we shadowThe numbers of our host, and make discoveryErr in report of us.”

“Let every soldier hew him down a bough,And bear’t before him; thereby shall we shadowThe numbers of our host, and make discoveryErr in report of us.”

“Let every soldier hew him down a bough,And bear’t before him; thereby shall we shadowThe numbers of our host, and make discoveryErr in report of us.”

Precisely similar modes of concealment are to be found in the animal world.

There is a certain insect belonging to the Heteroptera, and scientifically namedReduvius personatus. I am not aware whether it has any popular name. It is insectivorous, and ought to be welcomed in houses, as it is particularly fond of the too common bed-bug. So carnivorous are these insects that one of the Reduviidæ killed and sucked a companion of her own sex, her own mate, and, after only a few days’ fast, her own young, and then sucked her own eggs.

During its larval and pupal stages of existence, the Reduvius covers its body and limbs with dust and any other refuse which it can find. In this manner it disguises its form so completely that it scarcely looks like an insect. Occasionally it seems to be dissatisfied with its coat of dust, throws it off, and sets to work at a new one.

One of these creatures, as it appears when covered with its dusty coating, is seen in the upper left-hand corner of the illustration. It is slightly magnified.

Below the Reduvius is the common Cuckoo-spit (Aphrophora spumaria), whose frothy masses are so plentiful in our hedgerows and gardens.

If one of these masses be carefully opened, there will be found in it a little green creature with small, round, dot-like eyes. This is either the larval or pupal state of the Frog-hopper,as the insect is called in its perfect state, from its habit of taking long and sudden leaps when alarmed.

I well remember my delight when, as a child, I set to work at examining these froth-masses, and succeeded in tracing the insect through all its changes. The froth is derived from the sap of the tree, which is sucked through the proboscis, passed through the digestive organs, and then ejected in a succession of little bubbles. After awhile a little drop of clear liquid is seen to collect at the bottom of the froth, to increase, and then to fall, when another immediately begins to be formed. One species of Cuckoo-spit, which inhabits Madagascar, acts almost like a siphon on the tree, and pours out large quantities of clear water during the hottest part of the day.

Within this froth-mass the insect lies concealed, and, though utterly helpless, is safe from most of the enemies that would attack it if it were left exposed.

Beneath the Cuckoo-spit is the common Spider-crab, sometimes called the Thornback-crab, from the numerous spines with which its body is covered. Its scientific name isMaia squinado.

When the Spider-crab attains to a tolerable size, its rough surface forms attachment for various marine beings, chiefly those belonging to the zoophytes. In some cases these zoophytes grow to such a size that the Crab is completely covered by them, and its original shape effectually concealed. When one of these creatures is seen in a living state it presents the curious spectacle of a large bunch of zoophytes and corallines moving about from place to place without any perceptible limbs, the whole of the surface of the Crab being covered with extraneous growths.

Nextcomes concealment by means of Disguise.

On the right hand of the accompanying illustration is shown a singular mode of concealment adopted by the Barea, a warlike and predatorial tribe of Abyssinia. When Mr. Mansfield Parkyns was resident in Abyssinia he fell in with the Barea, through whose country he had to pass.

“Scarcely had we passed the brook of Mai-Chena when one of our men, a hunter, declared that he saw the slaves. Being at that time inexperienced in such matters, I could see nothingsuspicious. He then pointed out to me a dead tree standing on an eminence at a distance of several hundred yards, and charred black by last year’s fire.” Here I must explain that in Abyssinia, as in several other parts of the world, the ground is annually, cleared of its superabundant vegetation by setting fire to it, and allowing the flames to burn themselves out.

Image unavailable: LEAF-INSECT. PTARMIGAN. CATERPILLAR OF GEOMETRA. LAPPET-MOTH. BAREA STRATAGEM.LEAF-INSECT. PTARMIGAN. CATERPILLAR OF GEOMETRA. LAPPET-MOTH. BAREA STRATAGEM.

“However, all I saw was a charred stump of a tree and a few blackened logs or stones lying at its feet. The hunter declared that neither the tree nor the stones were there the last time we passed, and that they were simply naked Barea, who had placed themselves in that position to observe us, having no doubt seen us for some time, and prepared themselves.

“I could scarcely believe it possible they could be so motionless, and determined to explore a little. The rest of the party advised me to continue quietly in the road, as it was possible that, from our presenting a rather formidable appearance, we should pass unmolested; but so confident was I of his mistake, that, telling the rest to go on slowly, as if nothing had been observed, I dropped into the long grass and stalked up towards them.”

“A shot from my rifle at a long distance (I did not venture too close) acted on the trees and stones as powerfully as the fiddle of Orpheus, but with the contrary effect; for the treedisappeared, and the stones and logs, instead of running after me, ran in the opposite direction.”

“I never was more astonished in my life, for so complete was the deception that even up to the time I fired I could have declared the objects before me were vegetable or mineral—anything, indeed, but animal. The fact was that the cunning rascals who represented stones were lying flat, with their little round shields placed before them as screens.”

This stratagem is shown on the right hand of the illustration.

Onthe left are a few of the innumerable instances in Nature where Concealment is obtained by imitation.

The three examples which are here given are familiar to all entomologists.

The upper figure represents two of the Geometra or Looper Caterpillars, as they appear when at rest, and affixed to a twig. This appears to be a singular attitude of rest, but it is one in which they delight, and in which they remain for hours together, the claspers at the end of the body tightly grasping the branch, and the whole body held out so straight and motionless that it is hardly possible to believe that a veritable twig is not before the eye. The colour is that of the twig, and the different segments of the body look exactly like the little irregularities and projections of a young twig.

I have more than once seen a novice in entomology unable to distinguish these larvæ, even when the branch was pointed out, and there were several upon it.

Just below the Loopers, and on the left hand of the illustration, is shown the well-known Leaf-insect (Phyllium). These strange beings have the elytra and the flattened appendages of the legs so exactly like leaves that the most experienced eye can scarcely distinguish them from the leaves among which they are placed. Even when they have been on a small plant, such as a myrtle in a flower-pot, I have had the greatest difficulty in finding them, and have seen people examine the plant, and then go away declaring that no insects were on it.

On the right hand, and just below the looper caterpillar, is the common Lappet-moth of this country, shown in its position of rest.

When it assumes this attitude, it looks exactly like a witheredleaf, the resemblance extending not only to the form, but the colour. All entomologists are familiar with many similar examples in insect life. The common Tortoise-shell Butterfly, for example, has a way of settling on patches of red soil, with which it harmonizes so well that it can hardly be seen. The various moths, also, are in the habit of resting on tree-bark, palings, and other objects, to which they instinctively know that they assimilate in hue. Many a beginner in entomology will pass a wooden fence or a wall, and not see an insect on either, while an adept will follow him and take twenty or thirty good specimens.

The last figure in the illustration represents a Ptarmigan (Lagopus vulgaris) in its winter dress. These birds have two differently coloured dresses, one for summer and the other for winter, and both adapted for concealment by imitation. In the former dress it is mottled with various shades of blackish brown, yellow, and white. As the bird is in the habit of settling among the grey lichen-covered stones on the sides of rocky hills, these colours harmonize so exactly with them that a Ptarmigan may almost be trodden upon before it is perceived.

In the winter, when the snow covers the whole country with one uniform sheet of white, except where the wind blows the snow aside, and exposes the underlying stones, the Ptarmigan assumes a different plumage, being almost entirely white, except a black streak over the eye, and the outer feathers of the tail, which are also black. Thus the bird becomes almost indistinguishable from a snow-covered stone, especially as it has a habit of squatting motionless and silent when it takes alarm.

The reader may, perhaps, remember that the common Stoat also has a summer and winter dress. The ordinary colour is rich reddish brown above, and white beneath, with a black tip to the tail. In the severe winters of Northern Europe the Stoat exchanges his ruddy coat for one of pure white, and is then known by the name of Ermine. It is remarkable that in the winter dress both of the Ptarmigan and Stoat the tail is black, while the rest of the coat is white.

Wenow come to a third mode of concealment in war, namely, that which is obtained by means of Trenches or Pits.

Even in hunting the pit or partial trench is largely used. In Southern Africa the hunter often employs such a trench, called technically a “Skärm.” It is very simple in idea, and easily made, being based on the principle that lions, elephants, &c., look for their assailants on the level of the earth, and seldom, if ever, look above or below it. Accordingly the hunter, having marked some pool or lake whereunto the wild animals resort at night to quench their thirst, chooses a convenient spot, and there digs a trench some seven feet in length and four deep, and covers it in with stout tree-branches and logs of various size. The whole is roofed in with sods, and the only entrance is at one end.

Here the hunter sits and waits, and, as his ear is on a level with the surface of the ground, he can hear at a considerable distance sounds which would have escaped him had he been erect.

Waiting for a favourable opportunity, as the various beasts come to drink, the hunter chooses one, takes careful aim, and fires one of his heaviest guns. It is but seldom that the rest of the animals charge in the direction of the Skärm, but even if they do, the hunter is quite safe under the shelter of his strong roof, which is able to resist even the heavy tread of an elephant.

Image unavailable: Galleria-Moth (Larva). Military Trench.Galleria-Moth (Larva). Military Trench.

In modern warfare, and especially during sieges, the trench is largely used, and is constructed on the most scientific principles, so as to shelter the assailants, while enabling them to proceed nearer and nearer to the fortress. A portion of one of these trenches is shown in the right hand of the illustration.

Onthe opposite side of the same illustration is shown the same principle as carried out in Nature.

There is a certain little insect, called the Wax-moth, or Galleria-moth (Galleria alvearia), which, although quiteharmless in its perfect form, is in its larval state extremely injurious to beehives.

The mother moth contrives, aided by her tiny form and sombre colouring, to slip past the sentries at the mouth of the hive, and to lay her eggs among the combs. This done, she dies, but the evil of her visit lives after her.

Each of the eggs is hatched into a little caterpillar, having a soft grey body, but a hard, horny head of a black-brown colour. As soon as they are hatched they begin to feed, eating not only the waxen combs, but the honey and the bee-bread which were intended for the support of the legitimate inhabitants.

The reader may ask why the bees do not destroy this marauder on their premises. They would be only too glad to do so, but they cannot touch it. As it eats its way along, it constructs a strong silken tube, within which it lives, and which it gradually lengthens. This tube or gallery is exceedingly tough, and perfectly capable of resisting the bee’s sting. Moreover, the caterpillar traverses its tube with such rapidity that the bee has no chance of knowing whereabouts the caterpillar may be when it makes its attack. When it feeds it only protrudes its armed head, the horny covering of which is an effectual protection against the sting.

When these creatures fairly get hold of a hive, the damage which they do is terrible, the whole of the combs being enveloped in the ever-increasing labyrinth of tubes. Even the bees themselves fall victims to the Galleria-moth, for the silken tunnels are driven through and through the combs, enveloping the broad cells as in the meshes of a net. Consequently, when the young bees are developed, they cannot escape from their cells, and perish miserably.

Nor do these tiresome insects confine themselves to hives; but they have an extraordinary facility for discovering bee-combs after they are removed from the hive. Some years ago I was making a collection of various insect habitations, and had brought together a carefully selected set of combs, showing the internal structure of the hive, and the different cells which are inhabited by the worker, the drone, and the queen bee.

One day, when about to arrange the collection in a glass case, I found that the whole of the combs had been destroyed by the Wax-moth. Scarcely a square inch of comb remained,and the contents of the box were little more than a congeries of Wax-moth galleries. Even the Wasp and Hornet nests which had been placed in the same box had been attacked, and, although they had not been so utterly destroyed as the waxen cells, they had been sufficiently injured to render them unfit for exhibition.

Many other insects work on the same principle. Certain Termites, for example, construct tunnels of clay, in order to conceal them on their travels, and have the art, even in the hottest and driest weather, of mixing their clay with some liquid which renders it, when dry, nearly as hard as stone. Indeed, there have been instances where the Termites have attacked the wooden beams of houses, and literally transformed them into beams of stone.

Then there are many Ants, notably several species of South America, which cover their approach by tunnels, and never venture into the open air.

Thetwo figures on the accompanying illustration will almost speak for themselves.

We have already seen how the same force of gravitation which causes the avalanche to thunder down the precipice may be utilised as a means of projecting missiles in time of war. When, however, the stones or beams were once sent on their destructive mission, they were out of the control of those who launched them. We now come to a modification of the force of Gravity, by which the missile, if we may so term it, is kept under control, its power increased or diminished at will, and its point of attack shifted according to the requirements of the moment.

Image unavailable: Ram. Head of Battering-Ram.Ram. Head of Battering-Ram.

Before the invention of artillery, the Battering-ram was by far the most formidable engine that could be brought against a fortified place. The principle of the Battering-ram wassimple enough. A long and heavy beam, generally the trunk of a tree, was suspended by ropes at the centre of gravity, so that it could be swung backwards and forwards. Although a simple beam was an effective weapon, its value was much enhanced by loading the thickest end with a heavy mass of metal, usually iron, and, when there was time for adornment, roughly modelled into the form of a ram’s head.

Generally the Battering-ram was mounted on an elevated platform, and the soldiers who worked it protected by a roof, which was called by the name of Testudo, or Tortoise. The force of this weapon was tremendous, and no wall, however strong, could resist it. Sometimes the beam was considerably more than a hundred feet in length, being composed of several pieces bolted and banded together with iron.

It may easily be imagined that such a weapon as this must have been a most terrible one, and, indeed, the whole success of the siege practically depended upon it. The assailants did their best to bring the Battering-ram into position under the walls, and the besieged did their best either to keep it away, or to neutralise its effects by catching it with nooses, dropping large stones upon it so as to break or dismount it, or, if they could not succeed in either of these attempts, they deadened the force of its blows as well as they could by interposing large sacks of wool between the wall and the head of the ram.

Considering the style of architecture which was then used in fortification, namely, a combination of height with thickness, the force of the Battering-ram would be even greater than that of artillery. The regular and rhythmical swing of the ram would soon communicate a vibratory motion to the wall, which would of itself tend to disintegrate the whole structure, while the blows of the iron head beneath broke away the stones, and rendered the downfall of the fort a mere matter of time.

The reader need hardly be reminded that the Battering-ram was so called because its mode of attack was practically the same as that of the animal from which it took its title.

Byslow degrees, mankind, as they advance in civilisation, have robbed warfare of many horrors. Non-combatants, forexample, are now left unharmed. Poisoned weapons have, by common consent, been abolished, and so have those instruments of warfare which, though they do not simply poison the blood by means of bodily wounds, do so by means of noxious vapours poured into the lungs.

It is sometimes rather unfortunate when civilisation and semi-barbarism meet in battle; the former respecting the customs of honourable warfare, and the latter ignoring them. For example, in olden times, one of the most potent weapons in naval combat was the “stink-pot”—i.e.a vessel filled with sulphur and other ingredients, and emitting a smoke which was death when inhaled. Among the American Indians the well-known Chili-plant was much used for this purpose, the very first breath that was taken of the thin and almost invisible smoke causing the throat to contract as if clutched by a strong hand. If then any enemies had taken refuge in a cave, or were suspected of having done so, a fire was lighted at the entrance, a quantity of chilis thrown on it, and the rest left to time. No being could endure that smoke and live, and they must either stay in the cave and die, or come out and deliver themselves up to their foes. The former was the better part to take, as suffocation, however slow, is only an affair of a few minutes, while death by torture is prolonged through hours.

Image unavailable: Bombardier-Beetle. Chinese Stink-Pots.Bombardier-Beetle. Chinese Stink-Pots.

In the late Chinese war the stink-pot was extensively used, and our sailors took it in very bad part that the enemy should be allowed to employ such weapons, and they should be debarred from using them.

Whether this principle is still retained in the defence of fortresses I do not know. I recollect, however, some twenty years ago, going over a fortress in which suffocation was employed as a means of defence. A long gallery was so placed that the assailants were tolerably sure to force their way into it, thinking that it led to the interior of the fort.

It was, however, nothing but a trap, for it had no exit. As soon as a number of the assailants had poured into this trap, their exit was suddenly cut off by machinery provided for the purpose, and at the same time a quantity of sulphur and lighted charcoal was shot into the gallery from above, and the aperture instantly closed. It would be absolutely impossible that any one who had been enclosed in that terrible chamber should escape with life, for the first breath of that deadly vapour would render the strongest man insensible.

Nature, as usual, has anticipated Art even in this particular.

In several parts of England, and especially along the shores of the Thames towards Gravesend, a little beetle is to be found under the flat stones of the river bank. Its scientific name isBrachinus crepitans. When this insect is alarmed, it has the power of ejecting a peculiar liquid, which, when it comes in contact with the atmosphere, bursts into a sort of pale blue-green flame, followed by a kind of smoke. Sometimes, when a tolerably large stone is lifted, the little explosions will go popping about in a most curious manner. Indeed, they carry reminiscences of school days, when it was a joy to distribute single grains of coarse gunpowder on the bars of the grate, and watch them melt, take fire, explode, and send forth little clouds of smoke. The insect is popularly called the Bombardier-beetle. Whether or not this capability be given as a means of defence I cannot say, but it assuredly answers that purpose.

There are several of the voracious Carabidæ, or Ground-beetles, which would be very glad to make a meal of the Brachinus. When, however, the Bombardier-beetle finds itself on the point of being overtaken, it elevates the abdomen with a peculiar gesture, and ejects the liquid. The effect on the pursuer is remarkable. It seems overwhelmed and stupefied by the sudden attack, moves about for awhile as if blinded, and, by the time that it has recovered its sense, the Bombardier-beetle is out of sight.

In some of the hotter parts of the world there are several species of Bombardier-beetles which attain considerable size, and their discharge is powerful enough to discolour the skin of the human hand.

I havefelt some little difficulty in classifying the curious invention which will now be described, but, as it is used for the purpose of making bullets, I have placed it in the category of War.

Image unavailable: SILK APPARATUS OF SILKWORM. BULLET-MAKING APPARATUS.SILK APPARATUS OF SILKWORM. BULLET-MAKING APPARATUS.

In the days of “Brown Bess,” as the old musket used to be called, precision of aim was not required, for no commander dreamt of opening fire until the enemy were at comparatively close quarters. In those days the bullets were spherical, and cast in moulds. After a time, when the Enfield rifle displaced the musket, and did double the execution at three times its range, bullets were still cast, though their shape was altered, and they took a sugar-loaf form instead of being spherical.

The rifle-testing machine at Woolwich, however, soon showed that at long ranges a cast bullet was nearly useless, one part being always lighter than another, and air-bubbles often taking the place of lead. After being cast, therefore, the bullets were placed in a “swedge,” or “swage,”i.e.a machine by which the lead was forcibly compressed until it was of a tolerably uniform density. Even this process, however, did not insure absolute exactness, and then a machine was invented by means of which the process of casting was superseded, and the bullets were pinched or squeezed, so to speak, out of cold lead.

On the right hand of the illustration is a plan of the ingenious apparatus by which the lead is supplied to the machine which actually forms the bullets. The sketch is not meant as a drawing of the actual machine, but is merely intended to show the principle.

The chief parts in this machine are a hollow cylinder, a piston, and a delivery tube. The cylinder is shown atA, and when used, is filled with melted lead. The piston,B, is then forced upwards by hydraulic pressure, driving the lead through the delivery tube. As it issues into the air it hardens, and thus forms a solid rod of lead,C. This rod is then passed into the next machine, where it is cut into regular lengths, and these pieces are then placed in moulds, and forced into form by enormous pressure. Were it not for this ingenious machinery, the wonderful scores which are now made at long distances would be impossible.

Nowlet us compare Art with Nature, as seen on the left hand of the illustration, which is a chart or plan of the spinning apparatus of the Silkworm.

When I first saw the bullet-making machine at work, I at once perceived that it was nothing more than a repetition in metal of the beautiful mechanism which I had so often admired in this insect. In order to show the close analogies of the two objects, I have marked them with similar letters.

Arepresents the upper part of the reservoir or vessel which contains the silk in a liquid state,B Bare the muscles which contract the reservoir and force the liquid matter out. It will be seen that both these vessels terminate in a delivery tube, identical in office with that of the bullet-making machine. As soon as the liquid silk passes into the air it is hardened, and is formed into a silken rod,C, just as is the lead in the machine. The only difference between the two, if it can be called a difference, is, that in the silkworm the rod is double, whereas in the machine it is single. The principle, however, is identical in both cases. The webs of spiders, and the threads by which so many caterpillars suspend themselves, and with which they make their nests, are all formed on the same design, namely, a reservoir containing a liquid which is squeezed through a tube, and hardens when it comes in contact with the air.

THE HUT, TROPIC AND POLAR.—PILLARS AND FLOORING.—TUNNEL ENTRANCE OF THE IGLOO.—DOORS AND HINGES.—SELF-CLOSING TRAP-DOORS.

THE HUT, TROPIC AND POLAR.—PILLARS AND FLOORING.—TUNNEL ENTRANCE OF THE IGLOO.—DOORS AND HINGES.—SELF-CLOSING TRAP-DOORS.

Primitive Architecture evidently borrowed from the Lower Animals.—Roof Hut of the Nshiego Mbouvé of Western Africa.—Platform Hut of the Orang-outan of Borneo.—Lake Dwellers and their Huts.—Tree-huts of Southern Africa, and their Uses.—Ascendancy of the Wild Beast over Man.—Snow-hut of the Seal copied by Esquimaux, and its Value shown.—Pillars and Flooring.—Crypt and Cathedral.—The Cuttle “Bone” and its many-pillared Structure.—The Wasp-nest, its Pillars and Floors.—Tunnel Entrances to Igloo.—Sudden Formation of Snow.—Nest of the Fairy Martin.—The Sand-wasp and its Mode of Building.—Doors and Hinges.—Eggs of the Gnat and Rotifer.—Cocoons of Ichneumon-flies.—Habitations of Microgaster.—Trap-doors in Nature and Art.—Habitation of the Trap-door Spider.—A Nest upon a Pillar.

Primitive Architecture evidently borrowed from the Lower Animals.—Roof Hut of the Nshiego Mbouvé of Western Africa.—Platform Hut of the Orang-outan of Borneo.—Lake Dwellers and their Huts.—Tree-huts of Southern Africa, and their Uses.—Ascendancy of the Wild Beast over Man.—Snow-hut of the Seal copied by Esquimaux, and its Value shown.—Pillars and Flooring.—Crypt and Cathedral.—The Cuttle “Bone” and its many-pillared Structure.—The Wasp-nest, its Pillars and Floors.—Tunnel Entrances to Igloo.—Sudden Formation of Snow.—Nest of the Fairy Martin.—The Sand-wasp and its Mode of Building.—Doors and Hinges.—Eggs of the Gnat and Rotifer.—Cocoons of Ichneumon-flies.—Habitations of Microgaster.—Trap-doors in Nature and Art.—Habitation of the Trap-door Spider.—A Nest upon a Pillar.

THERE can be little doubt that mankind has borrowed from the lower animals the first idea of a dwelling, and it is equally true, as we shall presently see, that not only primitive ideas of Architecture are to be found in Nature, but that many, if not all, modern refinements have been anticipated.

To begin at the beginning. The first idea of a habitation is evidently a mere shelter or roof that will keep off rain from the inhabitant. When Mr. Bowdich was travelling in Western Africa, he was told that the Njina—another name for the Gorilla—made huts for itself from branches, the natives also saying that it defended these huts with extemporised spears. A more truthful account is given of the Mpongwe and Shekiani, namely, that the animal builds a hut, but lives on the roof, and not under it.

Although this information has since proved to be false, therewas a foundation of truth in it, for there really is an ape in that part of Africa which makes huts, or rather roofs, for itself. This animal is the Nshiego Mbouvé (Troglodytes calvus).

This remarkable ape has a curious way of constructing a habitation. Choosing a horizontal branch at some distance from the ground for its resting-place, the animal erects above it a roof composed of fresh branches, each laid over the other in such a way that rain would shoot off them as it does from a thatched roof. M. du Chaillu gives the following account of this habitation:—

Image unavailable: NEST OF NSHIEGO MBOUVÉ. AFRICAN TREE-HUT.NEST OF NSHIEGO MBOUVÉ. AFRICAN TREE-HUT.

“As we were not in haste, I bade my men cut down the trees which contained the nests of these apes. I found them made precisely as I have before described, and as I have always found them, of long branches and leaves laid one over the other very carefully and thickly, so as to render the structure capable of shedding water.

“The branches were fastened to the tree in the middle of the structure by means of wild vines and creepers, which are so abundant in these parts. The projecting limb on which the ape perched was about four feet long.

“There remains no doubt that these nests are made by the animal to protect it from the nightly rains. When the leaves begin to dry to that degree that the structure no longer sheds water, the owner builds a new shelter, and this happens generally once in ten or fifteen days. At this rate the Nshiego mbouvé is an animal of no little industry.”

The roof which this ape builds is from six to eight feet indiameter, and is tolerably circular, so that it looks something like a large umbrella. When the animal is at rest it sits on the branch with one arm thrown round the stem of the tree, in order to support itself during sleep. In consequence of this attitude the hair is rubbed away on one side, thus earning for the ape the specific title ofcalvus, or bald.

Itis rather remarkable that the Orang-outan of Borneo is likewise a house-builder, though not in the same manner as the African ape which has just been mentioned. This animal has a way of weaving together the branches of trees, so as to make a platform on which it can repose, its enormously powerful arms being of great service in this task. The animal seems to make its platform in quite a mechanical manner, and it has been noticed that when an Orang-outan has been mortally wounded, it has expended its last energies in twisting the branches together so as to form a couch on which it can lie down and die.

Puttingaside those cases where huts have been erected in trees by way of amusement, we may find instances where human beings have been forced to make their habitations in trees.

In some places, such as certain parts of South America, the natives are forced to make their houses in trees, partly on account of the climate, and partly for the purpose of avoiding the mosquitoes.

The delta of the Orinoco River is nearly half as large as England, and for a considerable part of the year is deep in water. Yet this tract is inhabited by the Warau tribe, who find in it their only mode of escape from the tiny but terrible mosquito. We in England know but little of the miseries inflicted by these insects, which are so plentiful in some parts of America that they are gathered in bags, pressed into thick cakes about as large as ordinary dinner-plates, and an inch in thickness, and then cooked and eaten.

Now it is found that although the mosquito infests the banks of rivers, it cannot venture far from land. The Waraus, therefore, make for themselves habitations which are far enough from land to baffle the mosquitoes, and near enough to be easily reached in canoes.

Fortunately for them, there is a tree called the Ita Palm, belonging to the genus Mauritia, which loves moisture, and grows abundantly in this delta. The Waraus, therefore, make their habitations in these trees, connecting several of them together with cross-beams, and laying planks upon them so as to form the flooring of their simple huts. Here they maintain themselves chiefly by fishing, but are sometimes obliged to visit the mainland, in spite of the mosquitoes. When, however, they return, they halt at some distance from the shore, and with green boughs carefully beat out every mosquito from the canoe before they dare to approach their dwellings.

The once-celebrated Lake Dwellers of Switzerland evidently lived after a similar fashion.

Inthis case insects drive human beings into trees, but there are instances where nobler animals have produced the same effect.

Some years ago there lived in Southern Africa a powerful chief called Moselekatze, who spent his whole life in warfare, converting all the male inhabitants into soldiers, dividing them into regiments, ruling them with the extreme of discipline, and by their aid devastating the neighbouring countries. He swept off all the cattle, which constitutes the wealth of the Kafir tribes, and either killed the male inhabitants or pressed them into his service.

The land was in consequence deprived of its natural defenders, and the wild beasts, especially the lions, increased rapidly, so that the position of the survivors was a really terrible one. They had no cattle to furnish the milk which is the chief food of the Kafir tribes; their weapons had been taken by Moselekatze; and they were forced to live almost entirely on locusts and wild plants. By degrees the lions became so numerous and daring, that the slight Kafir huts were an insufficient protection during the night, and the disarmed and half-starved inhabitants were perforce obliged to make their habitations in trees.

Dr. Moffat, the well-known missionary, saw one tree in which there were no less than twenty huts. They were conical, and made of sticks and grass, the base resting upon a platform or scaffold laid upon the fork of a horizontal branch.The only mode of approach to these huts was by notches cut in the trunk of the tree.

How needful were these precautions was shown by the fact that the missionary himself spent a night in one of these aërial huts, and had the pleasure of hearing a number of lions snarl and growl all night over a rhinoceros hump which he had placed in an oven made of a deserted ant-hill. The oven, however, was too hot for the lions, and they had to retreat at daylight.

Passingfrom the tropics to the polar regions, we now take an instance where man has acknowledgedly copied an animal in the construction of his dwelling.

In Esquimaux-land, where no trees can grow, where for months together the sun never rises above the horizon, where the temperature is many degrees below zero, and where the land and ice are alike covered with a mantle of snow so thick that every landmark is abolished, it would seem that no human beings could support life for one week. There is neither timber for house-building nor wood for fuel, so that shelter, warmth, and cookery seem to be equally impossible, and as these are among the prime necessities of human life, it is not easy to see how mankind could exist.

Image unavailable: SNOW-HOUSE OF SEAL IN ESQUIMAUX-LAND. SNOW-HOUSE OF ESQUIMAUX.SNOW-HOUSE OF SEAL IN ESQUIMAUX-LAND. SNOW-HOUSE OF ESQUIMAUX.

Yet these very regions are inhabited by sundry animals, and it is by copying them that Man can keep his place. We have already seen how the Esquimaux hunter copies the Polar Bear, and we have now to see how he copies the Seal in the material and form of his dwelling-house, and not only contrives to live, but to enjoy life all the more for the singular conditions inwhich he is placed. Captain Hall mentions, in his “Life with the Esquimaux,” that one of the natives, named Kudlago, who was returning to his native country after visiting the United States, died while on board the ship. Towards the end of his life he was yearning for ice, and his last intelligible words were, “Do you see ice? Do you see ice?”

On the vast plains of ice that are formed in the winter-time the snow lies thickly, and yet upon such an inhospitable spot the mother seal has to make a home for her tender young. This she does in the following manner:—

She has already preserved a “breathing hole” in the ice, through which she can inhale air. How she finds so small a hole under the surface of the ice, where there are no landmarks to guide her, is a marvel to every swimmer. She has to chase fish and follow them in all their winding courses, and yet, when she is in want of air, is able to go straight to her breathing hole, and there take in a fresh supply of oxygen.

When she is about to become a mother, she enlarges this breathing hole so as to make it into a perpendicular tunnel. She then, with the sharp nails of her fore-paws, or flippers, scoops away the snow in a dome-like form, as shown in the illustration, taking the snow down with her through the ice, and allowing it to be carried away by the water. By degrees she makes a tolerably large excavation of a hemispherical shape, and when her young is born she deposits it on the ice-ledge around the tunnel. From ordinary foes the young Seal is safe, and nothing can discover the position of the house unless guided by the sense of smell.

How the Polar Bear and the Esquimaux hunter discover the dwelling and capture the inmates we have already described in the chapter treating of War and Hunting. Our present business is with the dwelling itself. Comparatively few of these snow-houses, origloos, as they are called, are discovered, and they remain intact until the summer sun melts the roof and exposes the habitation. By this time, however, the young Seal has grown sufficiently to shift for itself, and no longer needs the shelter of a dwelling.

Thewinter hut, or igloo, of the Esquimaux is made of exactly the same shape and of similar materials to the dwellingof the Seal, the chief difference being that it is built instead of excavated.

In order to save time, the igloo is generally erected by two men, one of whom supplies the material, and the other acts as bricklayer and architect in one. Each begins by tracing a suitably sized circle in the snow, which he clears away to some depth, so as to preserve a firm surface, either as a floor or as the material for the wall. In this work both men are equally valuable, for the skill required to cut the slabs of snow into such a shape that they can be formed into a hemispherical dome is quite as much as that which is needed for putting them together. I will call them the cutter and the builder. Sometimes a young hand is employed by way of labourer, and passes the snow slabs to the builder as fast as they are cut.

The builder receives the slabs, and arranges them in regular order, always taking care to “break the joints,” just as do our bricklayers of the present day. Always remaining within the circle, he gradually builds himself in, and when he has quite finished the house, he cuts a hole through the side, emerges, and, by the help of his partner, puts on the finishing touches. He usually also adds a sort of tunnel to the door, through which any one must creep on his hands and knees if he wishes to enter the igloo. This part of Esquimaux architecture will presently be noticed more in full.

Perhaps the reader may wish to know what provision there is for ventilation. The answer is simple enough. There is none, the Esquimaux not requiring ventilation any more than they require washing. The two, indeed, generally go together; and it may be observed, even in our own country, that those who object to fresh air, and are always complaining of draughts, have a very practical aversion to the use of fresh water, and but little confidence in what Thackeray calls the “flimsy artifices of the bath.”

The Esquimaux never washes, and knows not the use of linen. Consequently, it is no matter of surprise that a sailor of Captain Hall’s crew could not make up his mind to enter an igloo. “Whew!” exclaimed the man, “by thunder, I’m not going inthere! It’s crowded, and smells horribly. How it looms up!”

Considering that there were inside that igloo a dozenEsquimaux, all feasting on a raw, newly killed, and yet warm seal, the sailor had reason enough to decline a visit. Captain Hall, however, determined, in his character of explorer, to brave the strange odours, and moreover to join the inmates in their feast, knowing that as he would have to live among the Esquimaux for some two years, he would be forced to live as they did, and might as well begin at once. Consequently on this resolve, he drank the still steaming blood, and quaffed it from a cup which an Esquimaux woman had just licked clean.

Onedecided step in Architecture is the invention of the Pillar, and its capabilities of aiding to sustain another floor above it. We see this principle carried out in our great cathedrals, where the use of the Pillar is almost infinite. Take, for example, Canterbury Cathedral. A heedless visitor might easily pass through the nave, enter the choir, visit the various side-chapels, and “Becket’s Crown,” without thinking that under his feet is a vast chamber, and that the floor on which he stands is, in fact, the roof of a great crypt.

Image unavailable: WASP-COMBS. SLAVE SHIP.WASP-COMBS. SLAVE SHIP.

The weight of the Cathedral, with its lofty towers, is so tremendous, that the building could not be erected simply upon the ground, but rests upon a complicated substratum of pillars and arches, whereby the weight is spread over a large surface. In fact, the Cathedral is really two buildings, the one erected upon the other.

InNature there are many instances of pillars supporting different floors. One of the most beautiful examples is to beseen in the common Cuttle-bone, as it is called, this being the internal skeleton, if it may be so termed, of the common Sepia (Sepia officinalis), which is so often found on our coasts, especially after a gale. This year (1875) I found eight of these Cuttle-bones on the Margate sands, and all within a space of some twelve feet square.

This so-called bone is really composed of the purest chalk, for which reason it is in great request as a dentifrice, being easily scraped to almost impalpable powder when wanted, and not liable to be spilled, as is the case with any ordinary tooth-powder.

It is exceedingly light—so light, indeed, that it floats like a cork, even in fresh water. Now, as chalk is very much heavier than water, we may naturally ask ourselves how this lightness is obtained. If the upper surface be examined, it will be seen to be traversed by a vast number of wavy lines, something like the markings of “watered” silk. These show the lines of demarcation between the multitudinous rows of pillars of which the whole structure is formed.

If the “bone” be sharply snapped in the middle, and the particles of white dust blown away, a wonderful structure presents itself, which can be partially discerned by the naked eye, though a microscope is required to bring out its full beauties.

Even with an ordinary pocket lens we can make out some of its wonders. The object looks like a vast collection of basaltic columns, except that the pillars are white instead of black, and they are arranged in rows with the most perfect accuracy, just as if the place of each had been laid down with rule and compass. They are scarcely thicker than ordinary hairs, but they are beautifully perfect, and rise in tier after tier as if they were parts of a many-storied building. As a definite space exists between the pillars, the reader will understand why the whole structure should be so much lighter than water. In order, however, to see these wonderful pillars in perfection, a very thin section should be taken, and viewed with polarised light.

Anotherexcellent example of Pillars and Flooring is to be found in the nests of various Wasps, including that of the Hornet.

In these nests the combs are arranged horizontally, and not vertically, like those of the bees, and in consequence they have to be supported in some way. This object is achieved by means of multitudinous pillars made of the same papier-mâché of which the combs are formed, and attached to the successive rows of combs. There is, however, one curious point of difference between the Wasp-comb and human architecture, namely, that the pillars do not support floors, or rest upon them, but sustain the weight of those which hang from them. The mouths of the cells are all downwards, and the combs are therefore suspended from the pillars, instead of being supported by them.

Wehave already found occasion to treat of the snow-house, or igloo, of the Esquimaux, and have now to speak of a subsidiary, though necessary, part of Esquimaux architecture.

Perhaps the reader may have been unfortunate enough to travel by rail in the depth of winter, and to be associated with fellow-passengers who will insist on closing every window, even though the carriage be crowded. Suppose that on such a day, the weather being perfectly fine, the train stops at a station, and the guard outside opens the door to see if another passenger can be accommodated with a place.

No sooner is the door opened than a shower of snow at once fills the carriage. This is simply the moisture suspended in the air and generated by human lungs. The rush of cold air at once freezes this moisture and converts it into snow, thus showing those who will condescend to learn, that they have been breathing and re-breathing the air that has passed through a variety of human lungs, and is charged with their different moistures. I have seen the same phenomenon at a dinner party, where, after the withdrawal of the ladies, one of the windows was opened.

Now, in Esquimaux-land, it is absolutely necessary to conserve every atom of heat, for the cold is so intense that if a cask of water be near a coal fire, only the part next the fire will be thawed, the rest being ice. Cold, therefore, is a foe which has to be fought and kept away from the household. Then there are other foes—such as Polar Bears, forinstance—which would be only too glad to get into an igloo and make a meal of its inhabitants. The Esquimaux architect, therefore, avails himself of an ingenious device by which he can set both foes at defiance.

In summer-time he contents himself with a hut made of skins, and merely hangs a skin over the entrance by way of a door. But in the winter, when he is driven to his snow-house for shelter, he acts in a very different manner. Instead of merely cutting an aperture for a door in the side of the igloo, he constructs a long, low, arched tunnel, so small that no one can enter the igloo except by traversing this tunnel on his hands and knees. Sometimes a number of huts are connected with each other, one or two tunnels leading into the air, and the rest serving merely as passages from one hut to the other.


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