One reason, doubtless, why squirrels are so bold and reckless in
leaping through the trees is, that, if they miss their hold and
fall, they sustain no injury. Every species of tree squirrel seems
to be capable of a sort of rudimentary flying,--at least of making
itself into a parachute, so as to ease or break a fall or a leap
from a great height. The so-called flying squirrel does this the
most perfectly. It opens its furry vestments, leaps into the air,
and sails down the steep incline from the top of one tree to the
foot of the next as lightly as a bird. But other squirrels know
the same trick, only their coat-skirts are not so broad. One day
my dog treed a red squirrel in a tall hickory that stood in a
meadow on the side of a steep hill. To see what the squirrel would
do when closely pressed, I climbed the tree. As I drew near, he
took refuge in the topmost branch, and then, as I came on, he
boldly leaped into the air, spread himself out upon it, and, with a
quick, tremulous motion of his tail and legs, descended quite
slowly and landed upon the ground thirty feet below me, apparently
none the worse for the leap, for he ran with great speed and
escaped the dog in another tree.
A recent American traveler in Mexico gives a still more striking
instance of this power of squirrels partially to neutralize the
force of gravity when leaping or falling through the air. Some
boys had caught a Mexican black squirrel, nearly as large as a cat.
It had escaped from them once, and, when pursued, had taken a leap
of sixty feet, from the top of a pine-tree down upon the roof of a
house, without injury. This feat had led the grandmother of one of
the boys to declare that the squirrel was bewitched, and the boys
proposed to put the matter to further test by throwing the squirrel
down a precipice six hundred feet high. Our traveler interfered,
to see that the squirrel had fair play. The prisoner was conveyed
in a pillow-slip to the edge of the cliff, and the slip opened, so
that he might have his choice, whether to remain a captive or to
take the leap. He looked down the awful abyss, and then back and
sidewise,--his eyes glistening, his form crouching. Seeing no
escape in any other direction, "he took a flying leap into space,
and fluttered rather than fell into the abyss below. His legs
began to work like those of a swimming poodle-dog, but quicker and
quicker, while his tail, slightly elevated, spread out like a
feather fan. A rabbit of the same weight would have made the trip
in about twelve seconds; the squirrel protracted it for more than
half a minute," and "landed on a ledge of limestone, where we could
see him plainly squat on his hind legs and smooth his ruffled fur,
after which he made for the creek with a flourish of his tail, took
a good drink, and scampered away into the willow thicket."
The story at first blush seems incredible, but I have no doubt our
red squirrel would have made the leap safely; then why not the
great black squirrel, since its parachute would be proportionately
large?
The tails of the squirrels are broad and long and flat, not short
and small like those of gophers, chipmunks, woodchucks, and other
ground rodents, and when they leap or fall through the air the tail
is arched and rapidly vibrates. A squirrel's tail, therefore, is
something more than ornament, something more than a flag; it not
only aids him in flying, but it serves as a cloak, which he wraps
about him when he sleeps. Thus, some animals put their tails to
various uses, while others seem to have no use for them whatever.
What use for a tail has a wood-chuck, or a weasel, or a mouse? Has
not the mouse yet learned that it could get in its hole sooner if
it had no tail? The mole and the meadow mouse have very short
tails. Rats, no doubt, put their tails to various uses. The
rabbit has no use for a tail,--it would be in its way; while its
manner of sleeping is such that it does not need a tail to tuck
itself up with, as do the coon and the fox. The dog talks with his
tail; the tail of the possum is prehensile; the porcupine uses his
tail in climbing and for defense; the beaver as a tool or trowel;
while the tail of the skunk serves as a screen behind which it
masks its terrible battery.