MOUNTAIN GOAT
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT HAS MANY MEANS OF DEFENCE, NOT THE LEAST OF WHICH IS HIS AGILITY IN CLIMBING TO INACCESSIBLE PLACES.
WILD BOARS
WILD BOARS ARE AMONG THE MOST FEROCIOUS OF ANIMALS. BY MEANS OF THEIR GREAT STRENGTH ALONE THEY ARE WELL ABLE TO DEFEND THEMSELVES.
A most unique fighter is the giraffe. He has neither claws nor sharp teeth with which to defend himself; so, if he gets angry with one of his kind, he deliberately uses his long neck like a pile driver would use a sledge hammer. Swinging it round and round, he lets his head descend upon his adversary like a heavy ax! The two animals use the same kind of tactics, and bracing themselves so as to stand the blows, they fight until one has to give in. Their heads are furnished with two small knob-like horns which only protect them from the heavy blows without serving as offensive weapons.
Most singular and amusing of all methods of self-defence are those which entirely depend for their efficiency upon bluff, or pretence. The chameleon, for example, erects his snake-like hood, though he is harmless, and at the most could scarcely injure the smallest animal. Equally curious are the methods of skunks and polecats, which project against enemies a highly disagreeable fluid.
Passive modes of defence are as many and varied as are the active; one of the strangest and most inexplicable of these is that known as spontaneous amputation, technically termed autotomy. Thelizard, for example, when captured, will abruptly break loose his tail in order to escape; and certain wood rats, when caught, loosen the skin on their tails and deliberately slip away. Autotomy not only permits flight, but also defends the animal against the most adverse conditions. Nearest akin to this—defence by means of amputation—is the practice of bears and raccoons of amputating their limbs when caught in steel traps.
Mimicry, which is treated under another chapter, comes under the head of passive defence, and form and colour play an important part in it. Strangely enough, animals which have never resorted to mimicry as a means of protection, when associated with others who practice it, take on the habit themselves. This may possibly be due to the fact that new enemies are constantly arising.
As human sharpshooters dress in garments of the same colour as the woods in which they hunt, so many animals use this principle of imitation. The colour of most animals is very similar to their surroundings. This enables them to lie in wait for prey, a practice as old as the hillsides with animals. They have learned the extreme value of silence, and that they must remain at times motionless. This is especially noticeable with crocodiles, which wait for whole days without moving, concealed inthe water or deep grass, until their prey comes within striking distance, when they pounce upon it. The same is true of the python snake, which hangs from a tree so immovable that he appears like a vine or a branch of the tree. If an animal attempts to pass, he drops upon it.
Perhaps the most unique and successful method of passive defence is the feigning of death, or "playing 'possum" met with in several animals, such as the red fox, the opossum, occasionally the elephant, and several of the snakes. On many occasions I have been 'possum hunting in the South and found my dog barking at an apparently dead 'possum. As soon as these animals are approached by larger and stronger enemies, they drop absolutely motionless on the ground and close their eyes as though they were dead. Here they remain until the enemy either destroys them, carries them away, or leaves them alone. If left alone for a few moments, they immediately spring to their feet and make their escape.
Elephants often feign death when captured, in order to gain their liberty. Animal catchers tell many interesting tales of elephants feigning weakness from which they fall to the earth and later apparently die. In many instances the fastenings are removed from their legs and head and thecarcass is abandoned as useless, when to the utter astonishment of all—before the captors get out of sight—the animal springs up and dashes away to the forest, screaming with joy at the triumph of its deception.
Many animals deliberately assume a frightful, terrifying or grotesque appearance. This they do by inflating their bodies, by erecting hair, skin, or folds, or by unusual poses. Darwin speaks of the hissing of certain snakes, the rattle of the rattle-snake, the grating of the scales of the echis, each of which serves to frighten or terrify the enemy.
Bluffing is another form of defence that many animals use. The cobra, for example, when disturbed, raises its immense hood in a most terrifying attitude! Many of the lizards use the same tactics; while the horned toads of America when disturbed actually eject blood from their eyes. Every one is familiar with the cat's habit of raising the fur on his back when molested by a dog. All bluffing animals, when in danger, try to assume a pose that will make them look most dangerous and impressive to their enemies, and there is little doubt that in most cases they succeed very well, for we have all seen a dog slink away from a menacing cat.
The elk or moose, whose home is in the northern part of America and Europe, is a powerful andlarge animal, sometimes seven feet in height, and is able to endure much cold. He has many enemies among animals and mankind, and during the summer season he is quite able to protect himself, but in winter there is considerable danger from hordes of wolves. This is especially true just after a heavy snowstorm, if the snow is wet and melting. When it is dry and frozen, he can travel over it with great speed, and this he does by a most unusual trot which carries him along much faster than the trotting gait of a horse. Thus he is able to escape the hungry, carnivorous wolves, whose courage increases with appetite. If crowded too close, he is able also to protect himself by the most terrific blows of his fore-feet.
But when the spring weather sets in, and the snows begin to melt underneath, leaving the upper crust sufficiently strong to support the weight of lighter and smaller animals, such as wolves, especially when they travel swiftly, he is in great danger. For with every step he sinks to the belly in the snow, while his enemies can walk right up to his head and shoulders without his being able to strike or paw them with his dangerous hoofs. The advantage seems to be with the wolves, and if ever they bring the moose to bay in the snow, his life is doomed. For they care little for his arrow-likehorns, but boldly jump at his throat and kill him. Herein comes the elk's wisdom—he deliberately sets to work, before the snow melts, and builds for himself and family an elk-yard, which is nothing more than a large space of ground on which the snow is smoothed or trampled down until it becomes a hard surface on which he can walk; it is also surrounded by a high wall of snow, through which are certain exits that allow him to pass out, if he desires. All the enclosed space is not smoothed down, but parts of it only are cut up into roads through which he may pass very swiftly. Woe unto the daring wolves that enter his snowy fortification—his "No Man's Land"—- for sure death awaits them!
A sense of law, order, government; the sacredness of family ties—all these aid in the protection of animals. Family life with them originated just as it did in the human world. The social instinct and the moral sentiments which arise from social relations in man and animal are the same. Moral obligations, especially in relation to family ties and conjugal unions of animals, are in many cases sacred binders to such ties. The bear, for example, is proverbial for his conjugal faithfulness. The married life of most animals is strictly moral, and most of them are monogamists and have reached the highest form of family association and life.
In those places where they live promiscuously, it gives them the same protection in herds as it does among our lower savages. Cattle, sheep, and horses unite for mutual protection; wolves band together in packs; and after they have been domesticated there is still not only a strong desire to band together for social purposes, but also to hold courts of justice. It sometimes happens that an angered husband takes the law in his hands, like uncivilised men, and beats his wife.
In the development and organisation of social and civil life the horse and the goat hold the foremost position. It corresponds to that of man among the lower animals. They do not believe in monarchies, but strictly in republics, or rather, a democracy where all power comes from the working class. The claims of the working class to the exercise of supreme control in all political affairs are practically realised. Among a herd of wild Arabian horses, the leading stallion, or so-called king, is really only the father of the tribe; his functions are paternal rather than regal. If he may be said to reign in a certain sense, the true workers rule, and his scouts and sentinels obey his wishes which the workers have influenced and formulated.
The existence of but one king leaves no room for dynastic troubles and rivalries which disturb, sooften, our human countries and empires with such dreadful results. If two rival kings arise at the same time in a herd of horses, instead of forming factions in the state which end in civil war, they fight it out personally until one of them is killed or defeated. Once in a great while the other horses intervene, and drive the less desirable, or the false-claimant of power, away from the herd and its grazing territory. In these troubles the real king has little or no power, all activities are carried on by the workers.
If by chance he dies or is captured, another king, chosen by the herd, immediately assumes the kingship. It is a well-known fact that if the king of a herd of wild horses is caught, it is not uncommon for his herd to remain as near him as possible, and in their attempt to release him are often trapped themselves. The king has no heirs, either apparent or presumptive, and no right of succession is recognised. Any member of the herd, provided the workers choose him, may become the king, as every American school boy is a possible president of the United States.
Among many animals there is a perfect social and industrial organisation in which the division of labour is far better adjusted than in many human organisations. This, of course, is the result ofgradual growth and evolution just as it is in the human species. This can easily be proved among animals by their more primitive and savage habits. Monkeys, for example, in civilised monkey communities, differ very greatly from those of wilder and less trained districts. They are constantly changing their habits, becoming more and more civilised by improving their methods of work and their moral and religious life as well. In many cases they have ceased to kill members of their own tribe for small offences for which they used to kill, and the cleanness and beauty of their home lives seem to increase with the years.
It oftentimes happens, however, that powerful ape and baboon colonies relapse into barbarism, and roam, plunder, rob and murder, like a pack of uncivilised wolves or hyenas. They seem all at once to forget their peaceful industries and lose all desire for clean and right living. And strangely enough, when they once turn bad, they seldom reform. Some naturalists believe that they are led astray by a wicked king or ruler who comes into power; the natives believe the evil spirits have suddenly taken possession of them.
There is unquestionably, in the life of many tribal animals, a definite historical connection between the mother tribe and its colonies. This relationextends to the tribes of tribes, and thus there is an international relationship between the various members of a large number of tribes. These communities share the same likes, dislikes, hatreds, and aspirations. A missionary friend told of his experience with monkey folk, and how once, when hunting, his gun was accidentally discharged, instantly wounding a large semi-tame baboon near his home. He hastened to help the injured animal, but saw that the relatives had crowded around and were terrorised, as they thought it was intentional. They not only followed him to his home, but returned in the night and actually tore his fence down. For months he was afraid to leave his wife alone during the day. And the natives reported that large tribes of monkey folk immediately came into the community from remoter regions and were distinctly on the war path. It was evident that their unjust antipathy was extended to all the kinspeople.
This is evidence of hereditary enmity, such as is common among families, tribes, and clans, and it often takes the form of feuds, which are still in vogue in the mountainous counties of the South. The baboons had suffered wrongs and never forgot it, and it was transmitted to their offspring.
BRONTOSAURUS
BRONTOSAURUS. THE ANIMALS THAT SEEMED BEST EQUIPPED TO DEFEND THEMSELVES ARE THE ONES THAT, THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO, BECAME EXTINCT.
PREHISTORIC MONSTER
THIS PREHISTORIC MONSTER WAS EQUIPPED NOT ONLY WITH A PAIR OF STRONG HORNS, BUT WITH A SHIELD BACK OF THEM AS WELL.
The ability to use weapons, tools, and war instruments is not exclusively human. Even fish arecapable of reaching their prey at a long distance. Thetoxotes jaculator, which lives in the rivers of India, and feeds upon insects, cannot afford to wait until the insects which thrive upon the leaves of aquatic plants fall into the water. So as he cannot leap high enough to catch them, he fills his mouth with water and squirts it at an insect with such aim and force that he rarely fails to knock the insect into the water where he can easily catch it. Many other animals squirt various liquids, occasionally in attack, but most times in defence. The fish makes a veritable squirt-gun of his mouth.
Beavers use sticks, chips, and even stones in building their dams; and their engineering abilities are astounding. They are also capable of meeting emergencies, as shown by the following incident. A farmer in Michigan discovered one morning, just after a flood, that all his potato sacks, which had been hung on a back fence to dry, had suddenly disappeared. A few days later he found them in a nearby beavers' colony, used in rebuilding their dam, which had suddenly overflowed. The beavers wasted no time, when they discovered their danger, in meeting the emergency by using the sacks to prevent the destruction of their home.
Monkeys make skilled use of clubs and stones in capturing their prey and fighting their enemies.
The skill with which some of them throw pebbles would lead us to believe they have already reached the degree of civilisation that many tribes of savages had reached only a few years ago, when they learned to use the boomerang and lasso. Some naturalists claim that monkeys actually set pitfalls for their enemies and lie in wait for them to be caught, just as a hunter would do.
Elephants also know the value of clubs in warfare, and will often use a broken limb of a dead tree as a weapon of defence. The story is told and vouched for by Mr. William B. Smith that on his farm, near Mount Lookout, a few years ago a donkey grazed in the same pasture with a ferocious bull. He was frequently attacked by the bull, and always got the worst of the fight. His feet were no match for the bull's horns, but one day the mule grabbed a long pole in his mouth, and, whirling it about, almost killed the bull, and henceforth the two lived on the best of terms in the same pasture.
I have a friend who owns a cow that knows exactly how to lift an iron latch to the barn door with her tongue and open the door. Innumerable times she has opened a gate in the same way to permit her calf to go free with her. So skilled is she in the manipulation of doors and latches that we aretempted to believe in some previous state of existence she was a professional lock-picker!
Cats and dogs are famed for their ability to open doors by pulling latch-strings. And not a few cats show a strong desire to study music by walking up and down the keyboard of a piano!
Monkeys who live near the seashore show wonderful aptness in opening oysters and shell-fish with sharp stones, exactly as a man would do. Monkeys have already reached the degree of civilization where they select the stones best suited for their work, and from their progress in the past it is reasonable to believe that in the near future they will not only be able to make their own tools—thus placing themselves on a mental footing with our flint-chipping ancestors of the early stone age,—but will also learn the use of fire and eventually the use of guns and ammunition, which marks one of the most important epochs in the evolution of the human species.
The chimpanzees, gorillas, and apes of the African forests have many times been observed in the act of piling brushwood upon the fires left by travellers, and though they do not know how to kindle a fire, they have learned how to keep it burning. The tame ones soon learn how to ignitematches, and often do great harm by starting forest fires.
But they show quite as much intelligence about the use of fire as the average small child. In fact, it has been thought by a number of great scholars that man had not yet made his appearance upon the earth in the miocene age, and that all the marvellous chipped flints of that age belong to semi-human pithecoid apes of wonderful intelligence. There is surely nothing in the facts of natural history, nor in Darwin's theory of evolution, that makes such a supposition unbelievable.
Baboons use poles as levers, stones as hammers, and seem to understand the more simple mechanical devices. Prantl claims that man is the only animal capable of using fire but not a few baboons know how to strike a match, heap dried leaves over the blaze to make it burn, and then heap on dead wood to feed the fire. This knowledge with them, exactly as with primitive peoples, is a product of long experience and does not show any mathematical truths or principles any more than making a direct cut across a field implies "knowledge of the relation of a hypothenuse to the two other sides of a right-angled triangle." This is what Prantl calls "spontaneous mathematical thinking."
I knew of a tame ape in Chicago that learned toswing from the end of a clothes-line and seemed to enjoy it very much. The line was just the right length and properly hung so as to allow the ape to swing out from a kitchen window and touch the ground. Just for fun, some one cut a piece from the line so that he could not reach the ground; immediately the ape hunted another piece of cord, tying it to the end of his line so as to increase its length, and much to his delight, continued to swing on the line.
The distinctive features of animal protection and home government, especially in the higher groups, may compare favourably with any of the methods used by civilised man. This is true both of their offensive and defensive contrivances and for their monarchies and republics. They use shells, scales, plates of every kind, with innumerable modifications for various purposes—spines and allied armaments—all shapes and sizes; poisonous secretions, deadly odours, strong claws and teeth wielded by strong muscles, and form colonies that are more than a gregarious association. In most cases, they have communities composed of individuals living individual lives, yet which act in cases of need as one unit.
"The heart is hard that is not pleasedWith sight of animals enjoying life,Nor feels their happiness augment his own."
The most popular and perhaps the most interesting department of natural-history study is that which treats of the manner in which animals utilise the various materials of the universe for purposes of protection, for war and defence, for raiment, food, and even the luxuries of life. Man, by his superior power of adaptation, excels the lower animals in providing for the comforts of life; but, on the other hand, in such practical arts as engineering and domestic architecture man frequently finds himself an amateur in comparison. With all man's inventions he has not been able to equal some of the remarkable results produced by some animals. The beaver, for example, shows a more profound knowledge of hydraulics than man himself. The power possessed by these craftsmen,not only in felling trees, but in duly selecting the best places for making homes and in appropriating substances suitable for their needs, is a never-ending marvel!
Nowhere can we find a greater animal-workman than the beaver. He belongs to the great burrowing family, and is also extremely graceful in the water. Long ago he learned the advantages of co-operation, and he unites with his fellows in building dams of felled trees, which have been cut up into suitable length for use in damming up water places. These are skilfully placed, and with the aid of mud, control the level of the water in selected places as efficiently as man could do. As a social animal, the beaver should be ranked among the first; of course, the various marmots are extremely sociable, but they ordinarily live quite independently of each other, except in cases where they chance to congregate because of favourable conditions. The beavers, on the other hand, thoroughly understand the benefits of united labour, and work together for the good of the community.
Beavers, if their skill were generally known, would have a great reputation among their human friends. Recently, at the New York Zoological Gardens, a visitor was pointing out different animals to his little son, and when he came to thebeaver pond, referred to two of these dam-builders and tree-cutters, which were swimming through the water with large sticks in their mouths, as big rats!
Young beavers make their appearance in May, and there are usually from four to eight to a family. These kittens, as they are called, are odd looking little fellows, with big heads, large sharp teeth, flat tails, like little fat paddles, and delicate, soft, mouse-like fur, not at all coarse like that of their parents. If taken at an early age they make nice pets and are easily domesticated. In the early days of American history it was not uncommon to see one running around an Indian lodge, playing like a child with the little Indians, and frequently receiving with the papoose nourishment from the mother's breast. Strangely enough, the cry of the young beaver is exactly like that of the baby child. One of my friends in Michigan recently stopped at an Indian's house to see a real live baby beaver. "He cry all same as papoose," remarked the squaw, as she brought the young beaver out of the house, giving him a little slap to start him crying—and cry he did!
The body of a grown beaver is usually about thirty inches long, and something over eleven inches wide; it weighs about sixty pounds. The fore-paws are quite small in comparison with the rest of thebody; the hind feet are larger, webbed like a duck's feet, and are the principal motive power in swimming. The most unique feature of the animal's body is the famous mud-plastering tail, which is oft-times a foot long, five inches in width, and an inch in thickness. The colour of the beaver varies; there are black beavers, white beavers, and brown beavers. The black are the best known.
The beaver is well equipped for defending himself, and for carrying out his architectural schemes. His jet black tail, which is like a large paddle, covered with horny scales, he uses in many ways. With it he turns the body in any desired direction while swimming and diving, and, in time of danger, employs it as a sound board, or paddle. When alarmed at night, he dives into the water, and, by means of his tail, splashes so violently as to give warning to all beavers within a half-mile distance. The stroke of the tail sounds not unlike a pistol shot. As soon as a beaver sounds the alarm all others dive underneath the water. His teeth are expressly suited by nature for cutting and chiselling out trees.
The dam is the beaver's masterpiece. In the alder or birch swamps, where he usually lives, he oft-times builds from six to eight little dams from knoll to knoll, and in this way makes a pond sufficientlylarge for his purposes. The average beaver dam is from twenty to thirty feet long; but they differ greatly in size. There is one on a branch of Arnold's River in Canada, where the stream is twenty-one feet wide and two feet deep, which is especially well built. The dam is seven feet high, and rises five to six feet above the pool. It is constructed mainly of alder poles, which are arranged side by side, and their length is parallel with the direction of the current. To create a pond for himself and provide against drought is the chief aim of the beaver in building his dam.
Just how these dams are built; who plans the job; who sees that it is carried out; whether each works under his own impulse or whether they co-operate; when they begin and how they finish; all these things are unknown to man. The investigation of such questions is almost impossible. It is generally believed, however, that beavers work in gangs under a common "boss" or "overseer," and it is a known fact that they work only at night. During a dark, rainy night they accomplish twice as much as on a moonlight night. No doubt the darkness gives them a sense of security which aids their work. Anyway, in the completed job, we see the evidences of a skilled engineer and architect, and one who knew thoroughly what he was about.
The size of a dam depends entirely upon the wishes of its builders and location and general conditions of land and water. Sometimes the more ambitious beavers build a dam a quarter of a mile in length. They employ exactly the same principle as is used in making a mill-dam. Beavers, however, were building dams long before millers came into existence, and their methods are fully as scientific as those of man. Mill-dams usually run straight across a stream, while beaver-dams are so curved that the water is gently turned to each side. In this way the beaver-dams are capable of resisting immense quantities of water which in its impetuous rush would carry away the ordinary mill-dam. Many scientific thinkers claim that the beaver employs this principle of construction without knowing it. How absurd! Who can be sure that he doesn't know it? Scientists of the old school desire proof before they will accept anything as a fact, yet they themselves repeatedly make wild statements without proper substantiation.
It is not unusual for a beaver family to select a home on the bank of a pond, lake, or stream whose waters are sufficiently deep and abundant for all their needs. In such a case dams are not needed, and regulation beaver houses are rarely constructed. Instead, apartment houses are hollowed out fromthe banks. But in the ease of a town-site on shallow, narrow waters, dams are absolutely necessary to insure sufficient depth to conceal the beavers, and to prevent obstruction by ice. The entrance to the beaver's home is almost always under the water. This arrangement safeguards the home from predatory enemies.
During the summer months, beavers are inclined to live alone, except when a new home occupies their attention; but when autumn comes, the various families of a neighbourhood meet and remain together through the following spring. In the latter part of August the busy season begins, and each and every beaver, old and young, aids in repairing the dam and dwellings, which have been allowed to fall into decay. The cutting and felling of trees is the first important work to be done.
These interesting "tree-cutters" usually work in pairs, and are sometimes assisted by younger beavers; thus the family works together in cutting and felling the trees, but in other forms of labour it seems that several families work together. If only two are engaged in felling a tree, they work by turns, and alternately keep guard; this is a well-known practice of many animals both in work and play. As soon as the tree begins to bend and crack, they cease cutting and make sure of their definitedirection of escape, then they continue to gnaw until it begins to fall, whereupon they plunge into the stream, usually, where they remain for some time lest the noise of the falling tree attract the attention of enemies.
Their next work is to cut up the tree into sections which they can remove. If the tree is not too large and has already fallen in the water, they take it as it is, otherwise it must be cut up and conveyed to the dam. No professional lumberman better understands how to transport lumber to a desired place than beavers. They realise the value of water transportation and thoroughly appreciate that trees can only be removed downhill. From tame beavers we have learned that they remove smaller limbs by seizing them with their teeth, throwing the loose end over their shoulder, and then dragging them to their destination.
These water-loving animals rely mainly upon their native element for the movement of lumber and food, and to aid this they employ engineering skill that is rivalled only by their feats of tree-cutting and dam-building. This constructive faculty is shown largely in their canal-digging. From one small stream to another, or from one lake to another, they excavate canals from three to four feet in width, with a water depth of two feet, and occasionally one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in length. The amount of labour they perform is almost unbelievable; every particle of dirt is carried away between their chin and fore-paws. This earth is sometimes used in plastering up a nearby dam or repairing their winter home. Small and tender twigs are transported to the vicinity of their lodges, and then sunk for winter food.
Mr. Morgan has made a close study of these canals, and in speaking of them he says that when he first saw them, and heard them called canals, he doubted their artificial origin; but upon examination he found that they were unquestionably beaver excavations. He considers these artificial canals, by means of which the beavers carry their wood to their lodges, the supreme act of intelligence on the part of these wise animals. Even the dam, remarkable as it is, does not show evidence of greater skill than that displayed in the making of these canals. No one who has ever understood the ways of the beaver can believe that he is not exceedingly intelligent. The banks of these canals soon become covered with growing plants and moss, and they look not unlike slow sluggish streams winding through the marshy lands.
BEAVER
THE BEAVER IS THE GREATEST OF ALL ANIMAL ARCHITECTS. HIS SKILL IS EQUALLED ONLY BY HIS PATIENCE.
The beaver huts, or "lodges" as they are usually called, look not unlike beehives, somewhat broaderat the base, with thick walls and roof, four to six feet in thickness. They are formed of numbers of poles, twigs, and small branches of trees, woven together and plastered with mud, in the same way that the dams are made. Inside the house are circular chambers formed of mud, which have been smoothed and polished like waxed floors by the feet of the occupants. Around the outer border of each polished floor is dry grass used for Mrs. Beaver's nursery, and here the young beavers sleep and play.
From the outside these beaver huts resemble Esquimaux snow-houses, being almost circular in form, and domed. The walls are quite thick enough to keep out the cold, but with all the beaver's ingenuity, he is helpless against trappers. Summer and winter they are hunted, until now they are fast becoming extinct. How few people seem fully to realise and care what is being done to wild animals! They do not seem to know that it is a crime to take the life of a being unnecessarily. Only human life is sacred to them! To realize the wonderful work of beavers, and then to act as we do toward them is unworthy of our civilisation.
An interesting cousin of the beaver, the musquash or muskrat, and called by the Indians the beaver's "little brother," is also a house-builder and engineer of no mean abilities. He is at home throughout the greater part of North America, and, like the beaver, frequents the regions of slowly flowing streams and large, reed-bordered ponds. Here he mingles in groups of his own kin, and together they build houses, work and play, dive and swim, with almost as much skill as their big beaver brothers.
The muskrat is a skilled engineer, and delights in tunnelling. His home consists of a large rounded chamber which is reached by a long burrow from the side of a stream. From his main living-room are oftentimes found a number of smaller chambers or galleries, and these are used to store food in the form of delicate roots and bits of bark. Some of the more ambitious muskrats build large houses on piles of mud which rise out of the water. These houses are usually made of heaps of dead grass and weeds which are cemented together with mud and clay; at other times they contain no mud or clay, and seem to be only piles of tender roots and swamp grasses to be used for food during the long, cold winters.
From his physical appearance, the muskrat is well prepared to do his work: he is stoutly built, with a body about a foot in length, not including the tail; has small eyes, and tiny ears, partly covered with fur. In the winter, as food gets scarce,he begins to eat even the walls of his house, and by the time his home is gone—spring has arrived!
A most unusual family of skilled house-builders are the brush-tailed rat-kangaroos, or Jerboa kangaroos of Australia and Tasmania. They are no larger than an ordinary rabbit, but they have cousins who are as large as a man. These rat-kangaroos have most interesting tails, covered with long hair which forms itself into a crest near the tip. Their homes are found among small grassy hills, where there are a few trees and bushes. They scratch out a small hole in the ground, near a tuft of tall grass, and so bend the grass as to form a complete roof to the house, which is rather poorly constructed, and whose chief interest lies in the unusual way the kangaroos have of carrying all the building materials, like tiny bundles of hay, held compactly in their tails. There is no other workman among the animals that employs quite this method of transporting materials.
The rat-kangaroos have a dainty little brown cousin that lives in Africa, and who is occasionally seen jumping around on the ground, underneath bushes, and near damp springs. He is very small, not over three inches in length, and is like a miniature kangaroo, except for his long tail. Like their great cousins—the kangaroos—Mrs. Jerboa oftencarries her babies on her back when she goes out to seek food.
In the Great Sahara Desert, parched and dry, are found numerous cities of these little animals. With the exception of a few birds, reptiles, jackals and hyenas, they are the only inhabitants of this barren and desolate land. From the Arabs we learn that these little animals have extensive and intricate burrows, consisting of innumerable passages tunnelled out in the hard, dry soil. And these tunnels are the result of combined labour on the part of the entire community. The least alarm causes them to scuffle away into their underground homes.
One of the larger species of Central Asia employs a stratagem that is remarkable. Like their cousins of Africa, they live in a great underground city which is a perfect network of burrows which end in a large central chamber. From this chamber a long winding tunnel terminates very near the surface of the ground, and it is a long distance from the other burrows. No sign of its existence appears from above the surface of the earth, but if an enemy invades the burrow, away the jerboas rush for this secret exit and break through to the surface out of reach of the trouble, and escape.
These African jerboas are exceedingly odd inappearance, and they are two-legged in their habits of walk, and never go on all-fours. They walk by placing one hind foot alternately before the other; and they run in the same way. They can leap an extraordinary distance.
Frogs and toads, as a class, are not so skilled in house-building as some of their higher relations, but there is one of their number—theHyla faber—that is remarkably gifted in building mud houses. He lives in Brazil, and the natives call him theferreiro, or smith, and he is indeed the master-builder of his family. Mrs. Hyla is really the gifted member of the tribe, and it is during the breeding season that she diligently dives underneath the water, digs up handfuls of mud, and builds on the bottom a small circular wall, which encloses a space about ten to fourteen inches in diameter. This wall is continued until it reaches about four inches above the surface of the water. It looks not unlike a small volcano, and the inside is skilfully smoothed. This has been done by Mrs. Frog's artistic hands. When the house is entirely completed, Mrs. Frog lays a great number of eggs, and here they are quite safe from enemies both as eggs and baby tadpoles.
Mr. Frog seems little concerned in the building of the home, but he does take pleasure in croakingfor Mrs. Frog while she works. Perhaps this is to her heart genuine music, and his faithful attention to their children makes up for his love of idleness!
Perhaps the strangest animal engineer in the world is found in Madagascar and Australia. It is the duckbill or duckmole, and is scientifically known as theOrnithorhynchus paradoxus. The natives of Australia call it by several names:Mallangong,Tambreet, and not a few call it,Tohunbuck.
This odd little aquatic engineer digs long tunnels of great intricacy in the bands of lazy rivers, and because of its paradoxical nature and appearance has caused many strange stories to originate about its habits and methods of propagation. It has the beak of a duck and waddles not unlike this bird, but, like other mammals, it gives birth to its young, and does not lay eggs, as is so often claimed for it. When swimming it looks like a bunch of floating weeds or grass.
Its home is always on the banks of a stream, and is always provided with two entrances: one below the surface of the water, and the other above. This insures escape in case of enemies. The main tunnel or road to the home is sometimes fifty feet in length, and no engineer could devise a more deceptive approach; it winds up and down like a huge serpent, to the right, and to the left, and is so annoyingly variable in its sinuous course that even the natives have great trouble in digging the duckbill out of its nest.
The nest is oval in form, and is well-carpeted with dry weeds and grass. Here the young reside on soft beds until they are large enough to care for themselves. There are from one to four in each nest.
There are no greater architects in the universe than may be found among the coral-polypes. These interesting little animals of the deep have been much misunderstood, and have sometimes had the erroneous designation of "insect" bestowed upon them. The word "insect" has been applied in a very loose and general sense in other days; but naturalists and scientists should see to it that the use of this term be corrected in reference to these wonderful coral-architects, and that no informed person refer to them except as animals. Even poets have been guilty of propagating the most erroneous ideas about the nature and works of these sea-builders. Montgomery, in hisPelican Island, makes statements that are shocking to an intelligent thinker, and which no scientist can excuse on the ground of poetical license. "The poetry ofthis excellent author," says Dana, "is good, but the facts nearly all errors—if literature allows of such an incongruity." Think of coral-animals as being referred to as shapeless worms that "writhe and shrink their tortuous bodies to grotesque dimensions"! These deep-sea builders manufacture or secrete from their own bodies the coral substance out of which the great reefs are built. It is a part of their life work and nature, as a flower produces its own colours and shapes; it is amusing to know that it has only been about one hundred and fifty years since it was discovered not to be a plant but an animal! Even Ovid states the popular belief of the classic period when he speaks of the coral as a seaweed "which existed in a soft state as long as it remained in the sea, but had the curious property of becoming hard on exposure to the air."
These strange coral-producing animals of the deep demand two especially important conditions only under which they will thrive: namely, a certain depth of water and a certain temperature. Thus it is seen that the warmth of the sea determines the distribution of the corals; the geography of these animals is defined by degrees of temperature. Only in equatorial seas may reef-building corals be found; and if we select the "Equator as a natural centre of the globe, and measure off aband of 1800 miles in breadth on each side of that line," we will find that it will include the chief coral regions of the earth.
The work of the corals is most interesting. Small as are these tiny workmen, each and every one does his bit and, speck by speck, adds his minute contribution to the growing mass of coral until entire islands are surrounded by extensive reefs. Tahiti, for example, is surrounded by a barrier reef which is really an immense wall. The large barrier reef on the northeast coast of Australia extends in a continuous line for 1,000 miles, and varies from 10 to 90 miles in breadth. Some reefs are mere fringes which simply skirt the coast lands, and seem to be mere extensions of the beach. Still another variety of reef is known as the "atoll" or "lagoon" reef. This latter form is seen in circular rings of coral of various breadths which enclose a body of still water—the lagoon. There are many of these coral islands in the Indian and Pacific Oceans. Keeling or Cocos Atoll, of the Indian Ocean, is 9½ miles in its greatest width; Bow Island is 30 miles in length, and 6 miles wide; while in the Maldive Archipelago one island measures 88 geographical miles in length, and in some places is 20 miles wide. When one beholds a large coral ring, covered with rich soil and tropical vegetation, and "protecting aquiet lake-haven from the restless ocean without, it is little to be wondered at that the earlier voyagers recorded their surprise that the apparently insignificant architects of such an erection are able to withstand the force of the waves and to preserve their works among the continual attacks of the sea." As Pyrard de Laval truly said, "It is a marvel to see each of these atollons surrounded on all sides by a great bank of stone—walls such as no human hands could build on the space of earth allotted to them.... Being in the middle of an atollon, you see all around you this great stone bank, which surrounds and protects the island from the waves; but it is a formidable attempt, even for the boldest, to approach the bank and watch the waves roll in, and break with fury upon the shore."
As to the explanation of the modes of formation of these coral-reefs, the scientists have long been propounding theories which are sometimes amusing. Strangely enough they have nearly all explained that coral-polypes aggregate themselves in the forms of atolls and barrier-reefs by a mysterious "instinct," mediocrity's only term for screening its ignorance, and which is also given as the cause for their secreting lime. Flinders says that they form a great protecting reef in order that they may be protected by its shelter, and that the leeward aspect of the reef forms a nursery for their infant colonies.
Thus we see that these same scientists are accrediting these little architects with the possession of a great intelligence, and they are thought to co-operate together in a manner expressive of the greatest degree of efficiency and brotherly feeling. Each of these scientists gives a theory that leaves untouched the essential question of the causes for coral-reefs assuming their various shapes; and it is reasonable to believe that they work according to a divine wisdom and plan, and that mankind does not yet understand their strange ways, which give us a higher conception of the universe than that held by the ancients. Science has come to the point where it must recognise the perfect unity of all life, and that our fellow-architects, engineers, and house-builders in the animal world also fill an important place in Nature's great scheme.
"He prayeth well who loveth wellBoth man and bird and beast.He prayeth best who loveth bestAll things both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all."—Coleridge.
It can almost be said that there is no industry or profession of the human world that is not carried on with equal skill in the animal world. This is especially true of merchandising and store-keeping; animals, however, have different methods of merchandising than men, although these methods are none the less real. They give and take instead of buy and sell and have co-operative shops which they operate with great success. They unite for a desired end, and demonstrate their ability to work together in a common enterprise in a way that might teach man a good lesson.
Food and shelter are the first needs of animals.In order to obtain these, they group themselves into foraging parties in the most ingenious manner. Like mankind, they sometimes co-operate for dishonest ends; they form "trusts" and organise into gangs for purposes of mutual aid.
Deer, monkeys, rabbits, foxes, and numerous others conduct their dining-rooms on a co-operative principle. Some watch and wait while others dine. The same is true where they go to watering places to drink and bathe.
Perhaps the most unique and clever food conserver is the American polecat. He not only provides for himself, but prepares a larder for his young, so that they will have plenty of food. The nursery is usually comfortably embedded in a cave, and is lined with soft, dry grass. Adjoining this nursery is a larder, which often contains from ten to fifty large frogs and toads, all alive, but so dexterously bitten through the brain as to make them incapable of escaping. Mr. and Mrs. Pole-cat can then visit or hunt as they please, so long as their children have plenty of fresh meat at home!
Another interesting food conserver is the chipping squirrel, or chipmunk, so named because his cry sounds like the chirp of little chickens. His method of dress is most unusual; he is brownishgrey in colour, with five stripes of black and two of pale yellow running along the back of his coat; the throat and lower part of his body is snowy white. These colours occasionally vary, when the grey and yellow are superseded by black.
His home is underground, usually under an old wall, near a rock fence, or under a tree; his burrow is so long and winding that he can easily escape almost any enemy, except the weasel, which is not easily outwitted. His nursery and living-room is quite pretentious, but his lateral storeroom is a marvel! He is a miser indeed, and stores up every acorn and nut he can find, even many times more than he can ever eat. His variety of food is almost unending—he loves buckwheat, beaked nuts, pecans, various kinds of grass seeds, and Indian corn. In carrying food to his home he first fills his pouches to overflowing and then takes another nut in his mouth; he thus reminds the classical reader of Alemæon in the treasury of Crœsus.
The hedgehog is a regular Solomon in her methods of collecting fruit. Plutarch had a very high opinion of her. He says that when grapes are ripe, the mother hedgehog goes under the vines and shakes them until some of the grapes fall; she then literally rolls over them until many are attached to her spines, and marches back to her babies inthe cave. "One day," says Plutarch, "when we were all together, we had the chance of seeing this with our own eyes—it looked as if a bunch of grapes was shuffling along the ground, so thickly covered was the animal with its booty."