SKUNK
THE SKUNK MOTHER TRIES TO KEEP ON HAND A GOOD SUPPLY OF SUCH DELICACIES AS FROGS AND TOADS, SO THAT HER YOUNG MAY NEVER GO HUNGRY.
PORCUPINE
THE PORCUPINE AND THE HEDGEHOG HAVE A UNIQUE METHOD OF COLLECTING FOOD FOR THEIR YOUNG. AFTER SHAKING DOWN BERRIES OR GRAPES, THEY ROLL IN THEM, THEN HURRY HOME WITH THE FOOD ATTACHED TO THEIR QUILLS.
Alpine mice not only form comfortable winter homes in the earth, but combine into small winter colonies, each colony numbering about ten to twelve inhabitants, all of whom are under the direction of a leader. Thus organised, they proceed to lay up provisions for the winter. They use their mouths as scythes and their paws as rotary machines. Surely their wisdom and foresight call forth our greatest admiration. The jerboas or jumping mice are not only skilled athletes in the art of jumping, but they are gifted food conservers and producers as well. They lay up complete storehouses of food, which they do not consume altogether as their appetite may direct; but conserve it carefully for the times when nothing can be obtained from the fields. Then, and then only, do they open the closed magazines. Such acts of intelligence cannot be recorded under the head of "instinct"! They demonstrate the ability to plan for the future, and meet all emergencies.
Certain food hoarders and robbers, like the vole, are so very greedy and become such misers thatthey often threaten total destruction to large areas of grain. They were so plentiful in the classic land of Thessaly, the vale of Tempe, and the Land of Olympus that the old Greeks established what they called an Apollo Smintheus, the Mouse-destroying God. In the early spring, according to Professor Loeffler, who has made a special study of their invasions, they begin to come down from their homes in the hills to the cultivated fields. They seem to follow regular roads, and often travel along the railroad embankment. They travel very slowly, and when at home live somewhat on the order of prairie dogs, that is, in underground dwellings with numerous winding passages and tunnels.
These wise little food conservers are nocturnal in habit, and are rarely seen except by careful observers. When they once determine to rob a field, they do it with amazing rapidity and completeness. In a single night hordes of these workers go into a cornfield and by daylight not a stalk of corn remains. The field is as empty as if a cyclone had struck it. They work with great system, and while a part of their number cut the stalks down, others cut it up into movable sizes, while still others superintend its systematic removal. Storehouses are usually provided before the grain is even cut. They make long voyages throughout a country, storingaway tons of grain and food in these various granaries. To these they come for supplies whenever necessary. All poverty-stricken voles are also fed from these storehouses, since it is the product of the community as a whole. Aristotle wrote at length about their wise and destructive ways.
Not the least ingenious of food conservers are the hamsters, members of the great rodent family. They have made their dwellings most comfortable and even luxurious in arrangement and furnishings. Like wealthy farmers, they are not satisfied with comfortable dwellings only, but they too must have spacious barns adjoining their homes. Their home, or burrow proper, consists of two openings: one, which is used as an entrance, and which sinks vertically into the ground; the other, which is used as an exit, with a winding slope. The central room is beautifully carpeted with straw, moss, and dry leaves, which makes it a very pleasant living-room and bedroom. A third small winding tunnel leads from this room to the barns and storehouse. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. Hamster and the children have no need to go forth in the cold and wet weather to seek food—they can remain at home perfectly protected and well-fed. They are very liberal, and in case of need or poverty, will always share their food with their neighbours.
I once found the nest of a harvest mouse, which was woven of plaited blades of straw of the oats and wheat. It was perfectly round, with the aperture so ingeniously closed that I could scarcely tell to what part of the nest it belonged. It was as round as a marble and would actually roll when placed on a table, although within its walls were six tiny mice, naked and blind. As they increased in size day by day, the elastic wall of their small home expanded, and thus served their need until such time as they were old enough to live independent of this specially provided shelter.
There is a larger animal, known as a "rat-hare" or the harvest rat, which gathers piles of hay for winter use, sometimes to the height of six or eight feet in diameter. They begin harvesting in the early part of August, and after having cut the grass, they carefully spread it out to dry before placing it in their barns. These barns are usually located in holes or crevices of mountains. They are found in immense numbers in the Altai Mountains.
The California woodrat is not only a food hoarder but a notable thief and robber. A nest was found that was a veritable tool chest and pawn shop! It contained fourteen knives, three forks, six small spoons, one large soup spoon, twenty-seven large nails, hundreds of small tacks, two butcher knives,three pairs of eye-glasses, one purse, one string of beads, one rubber ball, two small cakes of soap, one string of red peppers, several boxes of matches, with numerous small buttons, needles, and pins. Apparently these woodrats are as ambitious for unnecessary and useless possessions as is man himself. Their big storeroom did, however, contain a larder in which they had some of their favourite food, such as seeds and nuts.
Some animals have learned not only to acquire, but also to defend and protect, all their property. We see in the human world how strong is the impulse to collect, and children will invariably collect anything from pebbles to peach-pits, if they see other children doing the same thing.
Most animals that do not hoard are those that forage for food, or fish, and rarely have permanent homes. The orang-outangs, for example, are regular gipsies, and go from place to place wherever food is plentiful. They take life easy, and sometimes during their journeys select a suitable spot near the seashore and have a real picnic. A scout has already discovered the right spot for getting big oysters, of which they are exceedingly fond, and when they have assembled, certain ones proceed to dig up the oysters, which they hand to others on the shore and they, in turn, place themon big stones, and proceed to open them for the feast. If one of the fishermen-monkeys discovers an oyster open, he will not insert his hand to remove the meat until first placing a stone between the valves. This assures him protection against the closing of the oyster. In most cases, they open the oysters by first placing them on stones and then using another stone as a hammer. These facts are vouched for by no less authorities than Gamelli Carreri, Dampier, and Wafer.
It is only a matter of time until many animals will understand the use of man-made tools. Some have already learned to use such tools as they make and shape for themselves. Monkeys and apes are already gifted in this art. Of course, under domestication, they use knives, forks, spoons, and dishes not so much from intelligence as from imitation. This, however, might be said of many human beings. I have seen an immense chimpanzee sit in a chair, set his own dinner table, use his knife and fork correctly when eating, and take great delight in the use of his napkin, which he always carefully refolded when his meal was over.
The human-like qualities of apes and monkeys, however, need scarcely be told. They are so very similar to man in most ways that there are few things they cannot do. Aelian tells of an ape whichlearned to drive horses skilfully. He knew just when and how to use the whip, how much slack to allow in the reins, and when to tighten them! They greatly resent any intrusion on their hunting-grounds, and make use of sticks and clubs to protect them. The chief is always armed with a club, and is thoroughly skilled in the use of it. It sometimes happens that an elephant will come to the same tree to seek food that apes frequent, and although they have no enmity towards each other, they like the same kind of food. As soon as the ape sees the elephant reaching his trunk among the branches, he immediately slips near the elephant, and when an opportunity presents itself, he whacks him over the trunk with his club! The infuriated elephant runs away in terror!
A story is told of a party of foraging apes who went into a cornfield with the purpose of robbing it, and discovered two men. They immediately rushed upon them and attempted to poke their eyes out with sticks and would have succeeded but for the intervention of two other men who chanced to be near. The extreme cleverness of apes in applying their reason and judgment is shown in Vosmaer's account of the female orang-outang, who tried to open the padlock of her chain with a small stick. She had seen her master open it with akey, and she exactly imitated the motion of his hands in the attempt.
Man shows a disposition to deny animals all traits and characteristics which are similar to his own. This reminds us of a remark that Cardinal Newman once made that men know less of animals than they do of angels. Why should we show such foolish pride and delusion, and try to baffle one of God's great facts? When men attempt to extinguish the idea of animal intelligence and sentiment by referring to it as instinct, we are reminded of the desert ostrich, which buries its head in the sand and thinks it cannot be seen. We should proudly acknowledge the wonderful human-like methods of these food conservers of the animal world, and recognise in all this a guiding Providence who provides for and protects all his creatures, be they great or small.
"Every night we must look, lest the down slopeBetween us and the woods turn suddenlyTo a grey onrush full of small green candles,The charging pack with eyes flaming for flesh.And well for us then if there's no more mistThan the white panting of the wolfish hunger."
The desire to travel and see the great world is by no means peculiar to the human race. It is found among animals to such a degree that groups of them will often leave their homes in one country and journey to another. These strange wanderlust habits are noticed even by the casual observer, and no special insight is required to see that these wise creatures have their annual tours excellently arranged and marked out. Their route is possibly as definitely arranged before starting, as is the route of a human traveller. They have their selected eating places arranged, know every danger spot and the enemies they are likely to encounter.
The members of these co-operative tours take life tickets, and each tour lasts about one year. One of the most unusual instances of such co-operation is that of the lemmings of the Scandinavian countries. These are animals of the mouse tribe, which live in the mountainous districts. They live upon roots and grasses. They breed very rapidly. At certain times they go from the centre of Norway to the east and west, crossing valley, hill, and river in great masses. Many are destroyed by birds and beasts of prey, but finally the survivors reach the Atlantic on the Gulf of Bothnia and, for some strange unknown reason, plunge in and die. Only enough remain from one season to another to propagate the species. It is an immense co-operative suicide society.
Rivers and valleys are sometimes effectual barriers. On the plains of the Amazon great numbers of animals are found on one side of the river only; these have not been able to cross to the other. On the north side of the Rio Negro are two varieties of monkeys, thebrachiurus conxionand thejacchus bicolor, which are unknown on the south side. Of course, water-loving animals, such as seals, whales, and porpoises are at home in the water and can swim for days without stopping. Quite a few animals can swim for a short distance, but comparatively few for long distances. In the early days in North America it was not uncommon for buffalo to swim across the Mississippi River. Rats and squirrels often migrate in great numbers. It oftentimes happens that Arctic animals travel from one place to another on floating ice. In the South American waters it is a common sight to see floating islands covered with plants and trees upon which there are live animals; and while these animals are likely to perish, they are oftentimes carried safely to land. Eagles have often been instrumental in bringing new species of animals to islands where they had previously been unknown, their purpose being to provide food for their own young. Some of these animals would escape and henceforth become citizens of their new habitation.
An interesting division of migrants is that of the casual travellers, like the men and women who always remain at home except when special business calls them away. Sudden climatic changes, or the scarcity of food, often cause stay-at-home animals to make tours into new territories. As a good instance, I might cite the case of three wolves, which I saw entering Jackson Park in Chicago, during very severe weather when Lake Michigan was frozen over. The morning papers stated that because of forest fires in Michigan, and the extreme cold,which not only made food scarce for the wild animals of Michigan, but froze the Lake, many of them had come across the ice into the great Chicago parks seeking food and shelter.
The subject of animal travel is full of interesting and difficult problems, and not the least interesting nor the least difficult is the question of just how they find their way to and from various places. Many naturalists tell us that these animals are led by inherited instinct along the migration lines followed by their forefathers. But even if this were true, what made them originally follow such a course?
Wild horses when travelling always have a leader as well as several sentinels for each herd. By some unknown code this leader makes known his wishes and directs the movements of the herd. No human army could have greater order or more perfect obedience to commands; and under him there is absolute unity by means of which the carnivorous animals, such as the wolf, the jaguar, and the puma, are repelled. Wild deer invariably have a leader, and while we do not know how he obtains his position, nor how he directs his followers, we do know he is highly successful in his efforts.
No act in the animal world bespeaks more intelligence than that of placing sentinels, especiallyduring a journey. Horses show striking skill and ingenuity in the choosing and placing of their sentinels. Any one who has been fortunate enough to have seen them travelling in the forests of South America, where the wild horses are gregarious, and travel in herds of five hundred to a thousand, has noticed that sentinels are always stationed around the herd. These animals are not well prepared for fighting, and experience has taught them that their greatest safety is in flight, and so, when they graze or sleep, sentinels are always on the look-out for enemies. If a man approaches, the sentinel at first walks toward him, as if to make sure what the enemy is, and what he desires, if the man goes nearer to the herd, the sentinel neighs in a most peculiar tone. Immediately the herd is aroused, and gallops away, not in confusion, but perfect order, as though its members were human soldiers.
The same is true of the white-legged peccaries, so plentiful in Guiana. They congregate by the thousands, choose a leader whose position is always at the front, and travel for hundreds of miles through the great forests. If they come to a river, the leader halts, as if to make sure that all is well for crossing, then he plunges into the water and is followed by his immense army. The sureness of the leader would suggest that he has been over thesame route many times before—perhaps this is why he has been chosen! If an enemy appears, or any form of danger is approached, they carry on an immense amount of chattering and proceed only when they have talked it out. Any hunter that should be foolish enough to attack them, unless he were already up a tree, would be torn to pieces with their terrible teeth and tusks. They are as bloodthirsty as the wild boars of the Black Forest of Germany, and will sometimes actually tear down a tree up which an enemy has escaped, that they may kill him.
The African apes have an interesting way of sending their sentinel to the top of an adjacent rock or tree, that he may look over the surrounding valleys and plantations before they go to plunder a garden or field. If he sees any danger, he utters a loud shriek, and the entire troop immediately runs away. The monkeys of Brazil post a guard while they sleep; the same is true of the chamois and other species of wild antelope.
A few years ago, many of the sheep in the northern part of Wales had become quite wild, and they usually grazed in parties of twelve to twenty, always having a sentinel so stationed as to command a prominent view of the surrounding territory. If any animal or person came near, he would give apeculiar hiss or whistle, repeating it two or three times, at which the whole herd would scamper away to places of safety.
One of the most striking facts about migration is its never-failing regularity and success. Most animals migrate at the recurrence of the breeding season. Of these, the great sea-turtle, which seeks the shallow water and deep sandy hills when ready to lay her eggs, is well known. Notwithstanding the great risks that practically all travelling animals assume, they are successful as a whole in their travels, and many return to bear testimony to a successful trip even across continents and sometimes the ocean. They migrate, for a variety of reasons. When it is not for a more desirable climate, nor more food, nor even better breeding grounds, we must either believe it is because of the natural desire to travel, or frankly admit that we do not understand it.
The Icelandic mice have probably the most curious methods of travelling of all migratory animals. Dr. Henderson, an authority on Iceland, not only verifies the fact himself, but gives the names of many prominent investigators who have seen the mice crossing small rivers and streams on thin pieces of dry board, dragging them to the water, launching them, and then going aboard their littlerafts. They then turn their heads to the centre, and their tails, which hang in the water, are used as paddles and rudders until they reach the destined shore.
Among travellers none are more famed than the camels. In their sphere and use they are supreme, and Nature has prepared them especially for travelling on the dry, hot, and barren deserts. They are truly the "ships of the desert" for they travel on a sea of sand, and their pad-like feet, so poorly adapted for travel on moist soil, is admirably suited to the desert sands. They are capable of travelling many days without food or water, and are used extensively in the desert regions of the East not only as beasts of burden but for their milk, which is an important article of diet in those countries where the camel is at home.
Animals that do not migrate, especially those living in cold climates, change their clothing at regular intervals. Their hair or fur increases in thickness in winter. If we compare the Indian and African elephants of to-day, whose delicate thin hair is scarcely noticeable, with the great extinct mammoth, which had an enormous amount of woolly fur, we readily see the great difference in their clothing. Yet these animals are members of the same great family. The same difference may benoted with horses: the Arabian horse, for example, has short, glistening fur, while those of Iceland and Norway have very thick fur; the same is true of Northern and Southern sheep. Animals which live in temperate regions, put on much thicker coats in winter, and shed them as summer approaches.
BLACK BEAR
THE BLACK BEAR IS NOT ONE OF THE GREAT MIGRATING ANIMALS. THE THICKNESS OF HIS COAT MUST THEREFORE CHANGE WITH THE SEASONS.
RABBITS
RABBITS SEEM TO HAVE A WELL-DEVISED SYSTEM IN THEIR ROAD-BUILDING, RUNNING THEIR PATHS IN AND OUT OF UNDERBRUSH IN A TRULY INGENIOUS MANNER.
The love of their original homes is one of the most striking features of certain animal travellers. The fierce struggle for existence and the territory required for an animal's home largely determine the amount of effort they make to seize and hold certain possessions. A pair of wildcats, for example, require a comparatively small hunting ground. But this they will defend against invasion even to the point of death. There are many more evidences showing the animals' love of home, and that they also know the meaning of home-sickness.
Not a few animals have learned definitely to lay out and obtain recognition for the boundaries of their respective ranging-grounds. This is amply proven by their respect and recognition of rights of way. Animals of certain farms seem to know the exact boundaries of their grazing lands and pastures, and to teach this knowledge to their young. In addition they often police their lands and pastures against intruders. Woe unto any travellerfound on the wrong highway! It is not uncommon for the transgressor to be pushed from a right of way to the rocks below. More than once a court's decision regarding disputable territory has been based on the sheep's recognition of boundary; those sheep slain in battle or otherwise injured while trying to invade the questionable territory have been paid for by the owner of the transgressing sheep.
It is easy to understand how sheep can recognise their rights of way, but somewhat difficult to account for their knowledge of boundaries. Sheep and goats have for ages been the greatest mountain-path and road-makers. Whether or not they have engineers, we are not sure, but they seem to select the shortest, easiest, and best route across the trackless hills, and never seem to change the way. In these localities, the sheep are almost in a primitive condition, and "not the least interesting feature of their conduct in this relapse to the wild life is that, in spite of the highly artificial condition in which they live to-day, they retain the primitive instincts of their race."
That this "peremptory and path-keeping" instinct is shown by the habits of the musk-ox, is clear. He is as much akin to the sheep as to cattle, and in habits more like those of the great prehistoric sheep as we imagine these to have been. The musk-ox naturally assembles in large flocks, and is migratory, just as the domesticated flocks of Spain are, and those of Thrace and the Caspian steppe. These flocks always return from the barren lands in the far north by the same road, and cross rivers by the same fords. Nothing but too persistent slaughter at these points by the enemies who beset them, induces them to desert their ancient highways. Pictures and anecdotes of the migrations of these animals, and of the bison in former days, represent them as moving on a broad front across the prairie or tundra. The examples of all moving multitudes suggest that this was not their usual formation on the march, and their roads prove that they moved on a narrow front or in file. On the North American prairie, though the bison are extinct, their great roads still remain as evidence of their former habits. These trails are paths worn on the prairie, nearly all running due north and south (the line of the old migration of the herds), like gigantic rabbit tracks. They are hard, the grass on them is green and short, and, if followed, they generally lead near water, to which a diverging track runs from the highway.
How interesting must have been the life on this great animal highway, before the Indian made thedeadly arrow to destroy these nature-loving travellers! There is no doubt but that, in their own way, these animals felt all the emotions known to a human traveller; that they enjoyed the flowery road, rested and played when weary, looked forward with joy to their favourite watering and bathing places, and recognised old watering places that they had visited for years.
The great roads and highways made by graminivorous animals, from those which the hippopotamus cuts through the mammoth canes and reeds of the African streams, to the smaller rabbit highways of England and America, all tell their own story of how these animals live and travel. The principal roads of rabbits over hills are as permanent as sheep and buffalo roads. These roads, however, should not be confused with the little trails that lead to their play and feeding grounds.
My friend and fellow-naturalist, Ralph Stuart Murray, in writing to me from Quebec, says: "In speaking of animal road builders, I might say that the rabbit or hare of the north woods deserves much attention, for greatly interesting are his highways. The life of the north woods brings one constantly in touch with these roads, which, after generations upon generations of constant use, are worn deep and smooth into the moose grass and muskegthrough which they run. At places, several distinct paths intersect, and it is curious to note that while these roads wind in and out underneath the low hanging evergreens, the 'cross-roads' will invariably be located in a clear open space, often on the top of some small hillock.
"The great age of these roads is very evident when compared with the newer, shallower paths of more recent years. So deep are the old ones, in fact, that the quiet watcher in the woods will occasionally see two large, upright ears—unmistakably those of a rabbit, seemingly sticking out of a hole in the ground—yet moving at a rapid pace, and all the while no rabbit in view. For all the world these vertical ears belonging to an unseen owner resemble in use and appearance the periscope of a submarine—the difference being that the rabbit uses his 'periscopes' for hearing, in order to locate and avoid his foe, the submarine its periscope to locate and attack its enemy."
The sheep terraces, which are so common on the sides of hills, though made by sheep, are not roads, but feeding grounds. Sheep, when walking on a hillside, invariably graze on the upper side, as they cannot reach the lower grass. Therefore they walk backwards and forwards on the slope, just as a reaping machine is driven over a hillside wheat-field. As the sheep takes a "neck's length" each time, the little ridges or roads correspond exactly with the measurements of the sheep's neck.
There are as many kinds of roads and terminals in the animal world as there are in the human, and lest our pride make us forget, we should remember that even the Panama Canal is dug according to the plan of a crawfish's canal, such as may be seen near any muddy stream. It is strange that no animal has learned to build elevated roads, though animals that live in trees, like flying squirrels, monkeys, and flying foxes, are very skilled in going from one tree to another. They have regular aerial highways, and some of the tree frogs are veritable wonders in the accuracy of their leaps from tree to tree. Even more skilled than these are the agamid lizards of India, whose chief means of travel is a folding parachute, which at a moment's notice can be erected and carry to another tree its lucky possessor. In Borneo is an aviator tree-snake which is able to so spread his ribs and inflate his body that he can actually sail from branch to branch in the tree-tops.
There are night travellers as well as day travellers; in fact, there are more animals that roam around in a great forest at night than in the daytime. They sleep during the day, when the dayanimals are roaming about, and go forth to roam when it is night. It is then they seek for prey, and are much feared by day animals. They see well in the dark, and travel so lightly that their footsteps cannot be heard.
On the Island of Java are found a family of strange, dwarfish little beings, which are called by the natives malmags, or hobgoblins. And they are well named, for they look like creatures of a distorted imagination more than real, living animals. They travel only at night, and so superstitious are the natives of their evil influence that if one of these uncanny little creatures appears near their rice fields, the plantation is immediately abandoned. However, these small creatures are no larger than squirrels, and are perfectly harmless. They are very rare even in their native lands—the Oriental Archipelago and the Philippine Islands. They rear their young in the hollow roots of bamboo trees, and to disturb their nests means to incur the evil of all the land.
Night animals do not go forth to travel and seek prey until the night is far advanced, and their prey is soundly sleeping. They seem to know the exact time of the night, as if they had watches or clocks, and they usually go forth to hunt about midnight and return to their homes about four o'clock. Onlyin cases of extreme hunger do they vary from this rule.
How marvellously skilled are they in finding their way! They pass through a crowded forest as though it were daytime, and strangely enough know just how to return to their lairs. This special sense or gift is not possessed by man; he must have marks and signs to return to a definite place.
These night-travellers number among their lot bats, flying squirrels, leopards, and prowling snakes.
Bats are not only the most interesting of the night-travellers, but by far the most curious and wonderful animals in the world. They are hideously ugly, reminding one more of a miniature, closed-up umbrella than an animal! They are coarse, awkward, when not in flight, and repellent; yet they have such highly developed senses that they have no rivals in the animal world. They excel most birds in flight, are able to make long nightly journeys, in which they use their wings not only for flight, but as air-bags in which they catch all kinds of flying insects. Their sense of touch as we know it is really a combination of touch, sight, and hearing.
A bat is a paradox par excellence! Nature seems to have started to make a little bear or fox, and suddenly forgot how and changed it into a wingedfreak, with tail, claws, fur, sharp teeth, small ears that stand up, and tiny, half-buried eyes. Its queer angular-edged wings look like an umbrella, with the cloth stretched over steel ribs; but in the case of the bat, this framework is made of delicate bones which are covered with a thin skin. The skin contains numerous little sense organs dotted over its surface, which give the bat his strange power.
Bats look more like mice than they do like birds, and they are sometimes called flittermice. But they are mammals, and the young are fed with milk by the mother, just as a cow feeds her calf. There is no danger that a bat will ever fly against you in the dark; for they can avoid all mishap even when their eyes are put out. They have special sense organs that tell them when they are nearing an object, and can fly at headlong speed with the accuracy of a rifle bullet directly into a small opening. This power is all due to the mysterious sense located in their wings and ears, which causes even man to consider his senses weak in comparison.
Bats are sociable creatures and huddle together and sleep in vast numbers during the day, but when night comes on they come forth for their nocturnal travels and sport by the millions. I have seen them leaving caves just at dusk in such numbers as to look like one immense volume of smoke, twenty tothirty feet wide, and lasting for more than five minutes. Mrs. Bat often takes her babies with her on these nightly travels. I found one with two young clinging to her breast. How they must enjoy these lovely trips!
There are many kinds and varieties of bats, ranging in size from the flying foxes of the tropical world, with wings five feet in length, to the wood bat of North America, which is not over six inches long. These interesting friends of man are his greatest scavengers of the air. They are doing much to check the mosquitoes throughout the regions of the world, and in more civilized communities man makes shelters for them, that they may eradicate mosquitoes.
"A warning from these pages take,And know this truth sublime—Each creature is a criminalWhen he commits a crime."
No more remarkable creatures exist in the animal world than those that play the rôle of Nature's scavengers and criminals. They are as numerous and varied in their methods of working as they are interesting. The only things they have in common are their profession and their appetites. As individuals they are ugly, unattractive and apparently void of personality and charm. Nevertheless, they have an important part to play in the scheme of things.
One of the most noted of these scavengers is the jackal—the Bohemian of the desert—whose territory extends from the Gulf of Persia to the Strait of Gibraltar. He is equally at home in Arabia, Persia, Babylonia, Syria, Egypt, and the entire North Coast of Africa, and no country from Barbary to the Cape of Good Hope is ever out of reach of his ghostly and uncouth howls. He travels only by night, and very rapidly.
When suffering with extreme hunger, he will attack man, but this he will do only in very rare cases. As he lives entirely upon dead animals, he is more of a thief and glutton than a robber and murderer. He depends mostly upon flight and darkness for his protection, and rarely ventures a direct attack. With all his unlikable habits he is truly valuable as an agent of public salubrity, and an important officer of the desert "commission of highways."
These public scavengers, while especially fond of carcasses and putrid flesh, are not averse to a little fresh meat occasionally. The jackal is truly the follower or purveyor for the lion, and oftentimes they work together. Jackals will gather in large numbers near a lion's den and howl and scream until the lions come forth to disperse them. As soon as a lion appears they stop their noise, but when he is out of sight, they immediately begin again. This is done because game is near, and the wise jackals wish the lion to kill the game. When this is done, and the lions have eaten all except the bones, the jackals have their small feast of scraps.
These weird night prowlers have ways all theirown, as any one who has spent a night in a tropical desert can attest. Imagine yourself on the Syrian plains between Bagdad and Damascus; a small white tent, and a starry sky: the silence is appalling, and you are just about to have your first sleep in the desert. Away, away from the distance comes a mournful, ghostly cry. Suddenly it ceases and like myriads of echoes it is repeated in hideous intensity—a babel of cries weird beyond description—so fierce and screeching as to be almost blood-curdling. It seems to come from all directions and distance out of measure! Vibrating over the sands and through the rocks, filling the immense void, crying out as it were for the sphinx, a veritablede profundisof the wastes. The vultures, who hold the fort during the day have given way to the night shift, the jackals. These come from all directions; from the caves in the earth, from among the rocks, from here, there, and from everywhere to take up their hygienic services where it has been left off by the day scavengers.
If you were near an oasis in the desert at the close of day, you would suddenly hear from the hot, barren sands a deep and peculiar sound. It swells and grows as an approaching wind, growing louder and louder as it comes nearer. Suddenly by the light of the camp fire, you see myriads of horridgreen eyes, like ghost torches in a graveyard, and hear gnashing teeth, greedy in anticipation of the garbage you have thrown away.
These hyena hordes are frightfully ugly, but rarely dangerous to man. They visit every oasis settlement in immense numbers, howling, yelping, and fighting for any bit of offal they may find. Not a particle of garbage remains. At the first sign of dawn, they disappear like rats from a burning building, and seek their caves to digest their ignoble banquets.
No human street-cleaner could ever excel their work. No matter how large the garbage pile, no matter how many dead dogs, cats, and donkeys in a village street, no matter how unspeakable the offal, it all vanishes as completely as though it had been burned. Not a piece of bone, not a single chicken feather remains. The natives have no fear of the hyena; a small child armed with a stick can put to flight a dozen of them. They are the lowest of cowards, and will flee from their own shadows.
MONGOOSE
THE MONGOOSE IS A SCAVENGER OF THE WORST TYPE, FEEDING ON RATS AND MICE AND SNAKES, AND EVEN POULTRY.
DIPLODOCUS
DIPLODOCUS. THE PREHISTORIC ANIMALS, ALSO, UNDOUBTEDLY HAD THEIR SCAVENGERS AND CRIMINALS.
In spite of their valuable services, mankind hates the hyenas. This is probably because of their absolute cowardice, for they will never attack a living creature unless it is weak from illness. Sometimes they steal a baby, never killing it outright, but carrying it away to their dens to starve it to deathbefore mutilating its body. If the courage of this beast equalled his strength, he would be the despot of the desert. But he is like his fellow workman, the jackal, cowardly to the last degree.
Neither of them ever attempts to put an enemy to flight by legitimate means. They resort to fakery: one howls, and the other wrinkles his face in great anger. The jackal's greatest asset and protection, when he meets with an enemy, is bluff. He raises his ugly mane, lifts his ungainly shoulders and assumes the look of a Jason, while in reality he is as harmless as a mouse, and the smallest child could drive him away with a twig. His bravery is all pose—a make-believe game—which he plays over and over again with every one he meets.
A noted American scavenger is the peccary, a species of wild hog, whose home ranges from Texas to the Pampas of South America. He is a devourer of creatures more obnoxious than himself. He moves with great rapidity, is always on the alert, and stops at nothing from mountains to a flowing river. When he attacks an enemy he makes short work of him.
Bands of these hogs are led by a chief, who is the swiftest and fiercest of the herd. This aggressive leader is followed by successive lines of males, behind which come the strong females, while therear is brought up by the old, the sick, and the young. In marching, they have the discipline of a trained army, and turn neither to the right nor to the left but go straight ahead. If the leader, for any cause, decides to change his route, the fact is quickly made known in some way to his followers, and the turn is made at a direct angle, with the accuracy of a surveyor, and the peccaries go forward again directly toward their new destination. This is another evidence of a special sense unknown to man.
But whenever a stop is made, or wherever they go, they do their work as scavengers. Fallen fruits, dead animals, insects, snakes, and worms are their prey. Thus they are valuable forest sweepers.
Strangely enough, in the animal world, as in the human, the lower professions are filled with those of less mentality than the higher, and as a result we find scavengers are nearest allied to criminals. The idea of one creature killing and eating another seems terrible. Yet they do, and most often do human beings commit the same crime. Cannibalism among wild animals is a common occurrence. The demand for food usually causes one animal to kill and devour another. But in captivity there are other causes for cannibalism: fearand excitement will oftentimes cause a mother to destroy her offspring.
It is a case of dog eat dog! Badgers often kill and devour their young. Wolves, in cases of extreme hunger, will eat their puppies; and Arctic travellers, when food for their dogs is scarce, have to guard constantly against the stronger eating the weaker. I once caught a mother field mouse with her two young and placed them in a cage; the next day the young had strangely disappeared, but I am not sure that the mother had eaten them. Hogs, cats, and rabbits will sometimes kill and eat their young even when food is plentiful. Crocodiles show an occasional cannibalistic tendency, while water-shrews are very pugnacious and oftentimes fight until one is killed. The victorious one eats his enemy! Thus it appears that Nature does not entirely disapprove of cannibalism, or she would not allow so many of her creatures to practise it.
Theft is a common vice among these various criminals. Monkeys and baboons form regular bands to rob and plunder. They have a chief who sees that a sentinel is posted at each dangerous post. The plunderers then line up in a long row, and the leader gets the booty and passes it along the line until it reaches the last of the band—the receiver. He deposits it in a safe place. If the sentry soundsan alarm, they all flee away, each with as much booty as he can grab. If the enemy presses too close, all booty is thrown away.
Passion, especially of love, causes much crime among animals as it does among men. Jealousy burns fiercely even in the breast of a beast. It is a common heritage of the fiercest lion and the gentle gazelle alike, and is capable of perpetrating the most dreadful crimes.
There are types of ugly dispositioned animals, who are always in a ferocious mood, just like certain ill-tempered human beings, who believe everything and everybody is trying to injure them. The common shrew, for example, is noisy, bold and fussy. He seems to delight in calling attention to himself by his grunty, squeaky voice. He advertises himself as a bad animal; and bad he is, for his terrible odour prevents other animals from coming near. Horses and mules are at times quite ferocious, and kick and bite, with no idea of obedience or kindness. They, of course, like our human criminals, are mentally unbalanced. Skilled horse trainers can detect at a glance a criminally inclined horse.
Rogue elephants are common in India. Even their trumpeting shows a ferocity and unbalance that terrifies the natives. Often these criminal elephants are sufferers of mental ailments. A respectable, law-abiding elephant herd will not allow a thug or rogue to live in their midst. They recognise him as dangerous for their society, and combine to force him entirely away from their homes.
Certain criminal animals have a strange antipathy for members of their own tribe, or for other kinds of animals. Such is common among monkeys, cats, horses, and dogs, and many terrible crimes are committed because of these antipathies. Every one has witnessed the terror of a dog that has been insulted, and elephants will carry an old grudge for fifty years and finally seek the most terrible revenge.
Often violent outbursts of temper on the part of a tame animal are caused by a change in the temperature or atmosphere. Even animals have days when they feel ugly and grouchy. Those that live in very hot climates are especially subject to fits of rage and anger. The approach of an electrical storm causes many of them to lose their self-control: herds of cattle often stampede just preceding a cyclone. They, like human savages, seem terrorised at the unknown. Not a few wild animals have actually run in the way of an automobile or passing train to attempt to stop it. Fear and rageare often caused by the appearance of a curious object. A bull, for example, when he sees a red rag, will madly rush at it, seemingly altogether oblivious of the man holding it. The matadors are safe only because the bull is insane from rage.
Many scientists of fame, like Lombroso, have demonstrated that strong drink is the cause of much crime among animals, the same as it is among men. In the pastures of Abyssinia the sheep and goats get on regular "drunks" by eating the beans of the coffee plants. They fight and carouse at such times like regular topers. Elephants are incorrigible when drunk, while dogs and horses have to be put in strait-jackets to prevent them from killing themselves.
Wicked animals always seek their own kind, and often band together for evil purposes. Figuier tells of three beavers that built for themselves a nice little home near a stream, and they had as a neighbour a respectable hermit beaver. The three called on their neighbour one day, and he received them cordially, and hastened to return their visit, when they pounced upon him and slew him, like human murderers, who had trapped their victim.
From all these we learn that Nature is filled with life-saving and life-furthering adaptations. Just as in the human drama we find deceit, disguise,mask, trickery, bunco and bluff, all forms of cheating and clever deceptions, so it is precisely the same in the animal world, though man is little informed on Nature's real ways.
"Who, after this, will dare gainsayThat beasts have sense as well as they?For me—could I the ruler be—They should have just as much as we,In youth, at least. In early years,Who thinks, reflects, or even fears?Or if we do—unmeaning elves—'Tis scarcely known e'en to ourselves.Thus by example clear and plain,We for these poor creatures claimSure sense to think, reflect, and plan,And in this action rival man:Their guide—not instinct blind alone,But reason, somewhat like our own!"
The wonderful world in which we live is full of animal life. In the great forests, under the ground, on the steep mountainsides, in the depths of the oceans, rivers, streams, from the frigid north to the torrid south, in the parched deserts, are animals of every size, colour, and form, all of which are, in their general form, adapted to theirpeculiar places in nature. Their lives and habits undeniably demonstrate proofs of divine wisdom, intelligence, and beneficence. In fact they show an aptitude in many arts and sciences second only to that shown in man.
The reason that animals are often held in such low esteem by the world of science, is because people are apt to look upon them as natural mechanisms and overlook what they are doing and feeling. The propounders of false statements which attribute every act of an intelligent animal—second only to man and his faithful ally—as due to instinct only, deal with metaphysical reasoning. They have never considered the innumerable and irrefutable facts of animal life which no acuteness of analysis and pure thinking can ever explain. Most of these narrow, bookish men deny to animals capabilities which every country schoolboy knows they possess. It is no exaggeration to say that animals exist which sing, dance, play, speak a language, build homes, go to school and learn, wage warfare, protect their homes and property, marry, make laws, build moral codes, in fact, do everything that is generally attributed to man.
In comparing man and animals scientists are prone to ascribe to man as a whole the faculties which only the best trained and most talented possess. They fail to consider our cannibal brethren, such as are found among the Dyaks on the Island of Borneo, whose chief articles of adornment in the house are heads of murdered men, and whose savage and fiendish ways would put to shame a civilised animal. They forget how long man lived on this earth before he even learned to make fire by chipping flints.
Since the beginning of time animals have been the friends and allies of man. From the very earliest ages they have in innumerable ways been associated with historical events, and with the laws, customs, superstitions, and religions of all nations of the universe. Love, devotion, gratitude, the sense of duty, as well as all the lower passions of hatred, revenge, distrust and cunning are their heritage. Only an egotist who has known them in books only, and knows nothing of their mentality and brain power, would dare say that they are governed solely by instinct. Cases of animal suicide, following some deep disgrace among them, are not uncommon.
From the Bible we learn that God frequently employed animals as agents to dispense His providence. Bullocks, sheep, goats were used by the Jews in their religious services, while a disobedient prophet was killed by a lion. Balaam was rebukedfor his cruelty by an ass; and David even called upon the animals to aid in praising Jehovah! That we may learn real gratitude for common mercies Isaiah says: "The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib," etc. When the city of Nineveh was threatened, God had pity on it, because there were many cattle there. The Saviour compared his own earthly condition with that of certain animals: "The foxes have holes," etc. He called himself the 'Good Shepherd,' and his followers were sheep who knew his voice. John the Baptist referred to Him as the 'Lamb of God'; while John, the beloved disciple, when on the Isle of Patmos, saw the "throne of God in heaven, and before it a lion, a calf, a man, and a flying eagle."
The first beginnings of co-operation between men and animals must have begun by the approach of certain less timid animals, which felt that better conditions for them and more food could be obtained near human habitations, and perhaps, more protection from dangerous animals. Or it may have begun through the stupidity of certain animals who failed to realize the danger of man's proximity.
It seems that the secret ambition of all animals is to become the allies of man. This is demonstrated by the fact that most of them have gone near the villages and towns, and, consequently, there arecomparatively few remaining in the heart of the big forests. Under the true state of conditions man should live in harmony with these animal brothers, with mutual trust and respect existing between them. That would mean, of course, that man would have to show a little more kindness to them. For while he is their true sovereign, he abuses the privileges of his sovereignty in untold ways, and up to the present time only a few animals, like the dog and horse, have been fully recognized as his allies.
All the others, with few exceptions, have shown a desire to become more closely united with man, and yet during the thousands of years of man's rulership over the beasts, he has been able to make allies of only about sixty. This regrettable fact speaks for itself—showing that man has long abused his trust.
Warfare, as it is waged to-day, demonstrates that notwithstanding man's vast number of scientific aids, animals are still invaluable. The innumerable mechanical and electrical devices unknown ten years ago, such as enormous rapid-firing guns, walking "Willies," wireless machines, traction engines, smokeless and noiseless powder, silent-sleepers and tear-bombs, all of these have greatly increased man's power of offence and defence, yet with all these ultra-modern improvements, animals areabsolutely essential in waging a successful war.
In military circles there is an ever-increasing demand for well-trained army horses, sound in mind and body and educated in modern campaigning. Above all, an army horse must be dependable, must love his soldier-master and must know absolute obedience to orders. Every army horse has to pass an examination and prove his worth before he is enlisted into the service.
The largest of the mountain guns used in Italy against the Austrians were drawn up the steep mountains by mules. Another 75-millimetre gun for mountain warfare is taken to pieces, into four parts, and each piece is separately packed on a mule.
The United States cavalry has the best trained war horses in the world; many of them actually understand the complicated commands of their masters. These horse soldiers have the insignia, U. S., branded on the hoof of the left forefoot, and the other animals in camp, on the shoulder.
When a horse arrives at a regiment he is assigned to a troop according to colour, size, weight and mental efficiency, and later he is permanently assigned to a man. Under no conditions is he interchanged or even ridden by another than his master, and it is astonishing the tremendous affectionthat oft-times springs up between the two; in many instances horses have been known to seek out their masters among hundreds of soldiers.
On the European battlefields, near which there are few or no railroads, animals have been the principal means of transportation, elephants, camels, horses, mules and oxen being chiefly used for this purpose. The Italian armies have used numerous teams of mountain-trained bullocks to draw loads up the mountains, and, while they cannot ascend roads as steep as those which the mules climb, they are very valuable for heavy loads. These bullocks work faster than an army mule, for a mule will never hurry. As the old darkey once said, "De mule warn't born fer to hurry; not even a torpedo would make him move one step farster!"
Elephants have been used to a small degree in the armies of Europe. While they are splendid workmen, they are dangerously subject to stampede, and one stampeding elephant can do much harm in an army.
The British army has used quite a few trained elephants from India in their ranks. They are especially employed to rout the enemy from small forests. Breaking through bushes, crushing underbrush, and pulling up small trees is their specialty.They make splendid bulwarks for soldiers, and when an army is marching through a forest, are invaluable in clearing the way. A British officer declared that one trained elephant is more valuable than a half-dozen traction engines.
Far the most interesting and curious use to which an animal is subjected is the use of camels chosen and trained because of their strange colouring and height. Small groups of them have been stationed among clumps of acacia trees with a spy mounted on the animal's neck. This is the safest place a person could be, for the camel or, in like manner, the giraffe, standing with only his head above the small trees, looks precisely like a bit of the foliage in the distance.
Camels are especially good for desert warfare, because they can go without water so long and can easily carry loads weighing from 400 to 500 pounds. In the last Afghan campaign the British lost over 50,000 camels and in the Great War they have had more than 60,000 in army service in Egypt. Camels are especially used for transportation purposes. The British capture of Jerusalem was greatly aided by these desert allies. Large numbers of oxen have been used in the French army. They do not balk at autos and know no fear of shells.
One of the greatest allies of the animal kingdomin warfare is the dog. These allies are trained to aid relief parties on the battlefields, and many of the ambulance men have their splendidly trained dogs for seeking out wounded soldiers among the dead. They are also trained as guards and watch-dogs and they become marvellously clever when used near the firing lines. They carry water in the trenches and are trained in packs to dismount enemy motorcyclists by pulling them from their machines. Dogs also make splendid scouts, and excellent and reliable messengers when not required to go too far.
These faithful friends of man, according to Buffon, are far more easily taught than man, and more easily led "than any of the other animals, for not only does the dog become educated in a short time, but even adapts himself to the habits of those who control him." According to circumstances, a dog may become a soldier, messenger, water-carrier, or guard.