CHAPTER V

THE LION AND HIS KIN

A Surprising Relationship—The Lion’s Mane—The Sabre-toothed Tiger—Some

Theories about Origins—Sea-lions in Love—Some Strange Ornaments—Whales

and Weapons.

That the Lion and the Lamb could possibly have been derived from the

same stock seems incredible: yet such is the case, though the pedigree

is now well-nigh lost in the mists of a hoary antiquity. It is not

surprising, then, that in their present-day garb they should show so

little in common. Nor is it strange that among their many points of

divergence the one should differ so conspicuously from the other in the

matter of secondary sexual characters. For when these are conspicuous

among the Ungulates they usually take the form of horns, of which the

Carnivores have no need, for the teeth and claws whereby they win their

daily portion of meat make equally serviceable weapons of offence when

turned against their own kind.

Among the larger Carnivora, the Lion alone displays any obvious

distinction between the sexes in the matter of ornament, and this in

the form of the well-known mane. Darwin, and later authorities, have

regarded this as a shield to protect the great blood-vessels from

injury during battles between rivals. But it is not very clear that

this alone is sufficient to explain its presence, inasmuch as the Tiger

in this respect is defenceless. Mr. F. C. Selous long ago pointed out

that the varying abundance of the mane is due to climatic causes. Lions

which live in districts where the nights are very cold, as in high

table-lands, have large manes; those which occupy lower ground, where

the nights are relatively warm, have but a scanty mane. It is clear,

however, that the abundance of the mane is not determined by the need

for warmth, otherwise it would have been as well developed in the

female. Rather we must regard a low temperature as conducive to the

growth of long hair when a natural tendency to produce this is present.

There are few men who can claim to have so great a first-hand

acquaintance with Lions as Mr. Selous, and he has pointed out to me

one significant fact which seems to show not only that the mane has

not been developed to serve as a shield when fighting, but that fights

between rival males must be rare. And this because of the absence

of any evidence in the shape of scars on the skin. With claws so

formidable as those of the lion, ugly wounds would certainly be made in

any prolonged conflicts, for the skin of this animal is very thin.

In the now extinct Sabre-toothed Tiger the upper canines were of

enormous length, and it is not improbable that they, on this account,

exceeded the bounds of usefulness; that, while as weapons of offence

they may have proved exceedingly effective, yet they hampered the

animal when feeding. In many ways one is reminded by these weapons of

the huge tusks of the Walrus. These are blunt-pointed, and are said

to be used very largely for digging up the large clams and other

burrowing shell-fish on which this animal mainly feeds. They are also

used as levers to drag the huge body out of the water on to the ice.

As fighting weapons they are formidable, and the wounds they inflict

are sometimes serious. The polygamous habits of this huge creature may

account for the fact that they are so much larger in the males, wherein

they may attain a length of thirty inches, and a weight of eight pounds

a-piece.

In connection with the monstrous tusks of the Sabre-toothed Tiger there

is a point which so far seems never to have attracted the attention it

deserves. And this concerns two small flanges of bone which project

from the lower border of the end of the lower jaw. In themselves they

are unimportant: they lie, it is to be noticed, parallel with the

points of the great upper teeth which descend on either side of them.

Their full significance is not apparent till we turn to the skull of

another extinct animal of quite another type—the huge Dinoceros, one

of the Ungulates. This animal was also armed with an enormous pair

of tusks, which also, when the mouth was closed, descended on either

side of a flange. In this case, however, the flange was developed to

such an extent that its free edge descended to the level of the point

of the tusk, thus affording it protection against injury. The really

striking feature of this curious down-growth is not apparent till an

attempt is made to explain its presence. What determined its growth?

It seems to furnish us with another of the many instances which are

to be found of the correlation of growth between unrelated parts, for

there is apparently no traceable connection between the growth of this

pair of teeth in the upper jaw and the development of the flanges of

the lower border of the jaw which are embraced by these teeth. In the

Sabre-toothed Tiger the inciting cause to this flange growth, whatever

it may have been, seems to have been much weaker than in the case of

Dinoceros.

Naturally one asks, can the whole thing be explained by the theory of

Kinetogenesis promulgated years ago by Cope? That is to say, are these

curious down-growths the result of a response to a stimulus set up in

the lower jaw by constant lateral blows dealt by the tusks against

the side of the jaw during the lateral movements of the jaw when

feeding or ruminating? Such movements in an Ungulate would be frequent

and constant: hence perhaps the more striking result. On account of

the scissor-like action of the jaws in the Sabre-tooth such lateral

movements were far less extensive, and less powerful. But though this

explanation sounds plausible, it presents many difficulties. In the

first place it seems to commit one to the admission that the responses

of the Somatoplasm during the life of the individual are transmitted

to the germ-plasm: that, in short, the characters acquired by the

individual during its lifetime are transmitted to its offspring. And

there are insuperable difficulties in the way of such a theory. Yet,

it must be admitted, it is no less difficult to believe that this

correlation of growth is due solely to fortuitous variation, for one

cannot really conceive of a variation of this kind taking place in two

such different structures independently. Such a conception would have

been less difficult if the case of Dinoceros alone were known to us.

We could have supposed that, somehow, the lower jaw started to produce

its flange just as the teeth began to develop an excess of growth which

carried their points beyond the level of the jaw. But the Sabre-tooth

shows that the tusks had assumed a growth relatively exaggerated as

in Dinoceros, and yet the flange never attained to more than feeble

development. We cannot rest content with the theory that the flange is

due to the constant stimulus of blows struck against this region of the

jaw during the lateral movements which take place when feeding. Were

these animals alive to-day it could be tested by extracting the tusks

during infancy, when, the stimulus being removed, the flanges should

not appear.

There are yet other aspects of the skull of Dinoceros which may well

be considered here. The first concerns the excessive armature of

horns, there being no less than three pairs supported on massive bony

cores; and the second the ridiculously small brain cavity which is

proportionately smaller than that of any other known mammal, recent or

fossil. This poverty of brain-power was probably one, if not the chief,

factor among the causes which brought about the extinction of this

strange beast. Even more formidable horns were borne by the extinct

Arsinoetherium. But this animal did not display the double armature of

horns and tusks.

Among the Carnivora monogamy is the rule, though the Lion is

occasionally polygamous. But the Eared-seals (_Otaria_), or Sea-lions,

and Sea-bears afford a striking example of polygamous species and

of the ferocity they display when sexually excited. These animals,

moreover, are capable of the most astonishing powers of endurance and

vitality, exceeding indeed that of all other mammals. Since the habits

of the Northern Fur-seal (_Otaria ursina_) have been more carefully

studied than those of any others, it may serve as a sample of the rest.

Living for the greater part of the year in the open sea, the old

bulls—animals of six or seven years old—are the first to seek the

“rookeries,” or breeding grounds, taking up their territory a full

month before the cows arrive. Later, the younger bulls appear, and the

more daring endeavour to force their way through the ranks of those

who have already taken up positions. This often leads to fighting, but

more usually nothing further than “bluffing” is indulged in, though

it is commonly supposed that very severe engagements take place. This

seems, however, to be only occasionally true. In due course, generally

about the second week in June, the cows begin to arrive, at first in

straggling numbers, but soon the main body puts in an appearance, and

before the end of the month many thousands of both sexes are crowded

along the foreshore. But yet, contrary to the generally accepted

belief, no serious fighting takes place. The bulls quietly seize the

females as they arrive. It would seem that the first arrival serves as

a focus of attraction for all later comers landing in the vicinity. The

bull holding the most advantageous post—that is to say, that nearest

the best landing-place—starts the collection and, unintentionally, the

distribution of the cows. Having seized the first arrival, he places

her by his side. As the later females arrive he gives each a most

cordial welcome, and then proceeds to round up his harem. But soon he

has more wives than he can continue to control. Do what he will, he

cannot be in two places at once; and thus it is that in rushing off to

chastise some covetous neighbour, one or more bulls on the opposite

side of his harem proceed to make captures from his horde. And this

system of abduction goes on over the whole rookery till all the cows

have been appropriated, leaving a crowd of envious bachelors in the

background who have not yet developed either courage or strength to

secure mates for themselves.

[Illustration: Plate 13.

_Photo by New York Zoological Society, from “The Living Animals of the

World.”_

CALIFORNIAN SEA-LIONS, OR EARED SEALS.

The “bulls” of the Eared Seal are much larger than the “cows”; they

have otherwise no very conspicuous “Secondary Sexual Characters.”

Face page 82.]

But within forty-eight hours of their landing the cows give birth to

their “pups.” And it is for this purpose, and not for mating, that they

come to land. Within a few days of the birth, however, the females

are “in use” again. This is the critical period in the life in the

rookery. For the bulls now become frenzied with excitement and fight

most viciously one with another, each hoping to possess himself of his

opponent’s harem. Each tries to seize the other by the fore flipper,

and, failing in this, the fangs are buried in the back. They hold

tenaciously, each trying to force the other to relax his hold; but

commonly this vice-like grip is maintained till the skin gives way,

leaving great bleeding rents. Sometimes the contest rages till one or

both is fatally wounded. Often during such duels an idle bull, hitherto

unable to secure a harem, will rush in and capture that of one of the

combatants!

In the management of the harem the bull is an adept. Whether he has

five cows or fifty, he is, says Dr. Lucas, “master of the situation.”

His will is law. Not that it is always tamely accepted as such, but

the result is the same. If a cow becomes restless, and moves about, a

warning growl usually quiets her. If the movement is persisted in and

an attempt to escape evident, the bull is up at once with a show of

fierceness and in chase. He may simply strike her down with his open

mouth. Often in doing so his sharp canines tear a gash in her skin. He

may even seize her in his mouth and deliberately throw her, or carry

her back into the harem. If the cow thinks she has a chance to get away

she may try to outrun him. If she miscalculates the distance he seizes

her, after a few swift bounds, by the skin of the back, or by the hind

flipper, and tosses her, often torn and bleeding, into the family

circle. As a rule, however, she avoids this seizure by turning and

facing her lord and master, and biting him in the breast and throat.

But all to no purpose. In spite of her violent protests he pushes her

backwards before him into the fold.

Sometimes in her efforts to improve her position she runs up to, and

is seized by, a rival bull. Her lord speedily asserts his ownership by

getting a grip wherever he can on the would-be truant. Then begins a

tug-of-war between the two bulls, during which the wretched victim of

their rage may be torn in pieces. By the elimination in each generation

of the more querulous and discontented, the peculiarly gentle and

passive nature so characteristic of the females has been developed.

After the first ten days’ sojourn ashore the female is allowed to go

to sea to feed, returning presently to suckle her young. The bull, on

the other hand, can enjoy no such privilege. For three long months he

must keep watch and ward fasting—at first, in order that he may retain

his territory; later, that he may retain his harem. This fast, having

regard to the loss of energy and blood which this strenuous period

entails, is wonderful; for in the case of all other animals fasts

are always associated with absolute rest and sleep. Not so with the

Sea-lion; he arrives at the breeding-ground fat and well-liking, he

leaves a starved and battered wreck.

The foregoing summary of the habits of these most interesting and much

persecuted animals is taken from the exhaustive report of Dr. F. A.

Lucas and Mr. Charles Townsend. These two distinguished naturalists

accompanied the United States contingent of the Fur-seal International

Commission despatched in 1896-97 to inquire into the threatened

extermination of these animals. Major Barrett Hamilton accompanied

the British contingent, and also made a report. And it is curious to

note that on some points he is diametrically opposed, not only to

the American naturalists, but to all other writers on this theme. He

contends, for example, that “nothing could better illustrate the fact

that it is the cows, and not the bulls, which have the real control of

the harem-system.” He traced the rapid growth of two harems from four

or five to as many as eighty cows. And he tells these were completely

out of control and free to move about as they wished. “The bulls, in

spite of all their bluster, had the flimsiest of nominal dominion, and

the cows were always able to, and frequently did, leave the harems

daily to dally with the cowless bulls on the outside. Yet ... as long

as they chose to sit massed together on the ground which had been

appropriated by the two stronger bulls, no weaker rivals could approach

to within ten yards of them. The master of the harem had no control

over its occupants, but he was absolute lord of the ground on which

they sat.” This is certainly curious, but more so is the fact that

these females were allowed to return by the “cowless bulls” outside

the charmed circle. Later in the season he tells us he witnessed an

even better illustration of this singular behaviour. At this time “the

division of the cows into harems was a very unequal one, the smaller

bull being only able to keep a very few cows, while the larger one

claimed the greater part of the rookery. But the cows could pass over

to the smaller bull’s ground as often as they liked; and he probably

was father to a great many more of the pups born in 1898 than those of

the half-dozen cows over whom he claimed control.” In regard to two

other bulls in another cart of the island, there came a time when the

inequality of the harems reached such a pitch, that the newly-arriving

cows “had to lie in scattered groups outside the main mass, and thus

permitted the weaker bulls to form new harems out of the reach of the

two strong old bulls.” But perhaps the most singular feature of all

was the indifference which one old bull displayed towards a little

bachelor, permitting him to enjoy the most intimate relations with one

of his cows without displaying the least sign of annoyance, as if he

could scarcely regard one so young as a rival.

There is much evidence to show that the erotic side of the male-seal

develops early. “I saw,” he says, “the little black pups acting to each

other in a way that made it certain that their sexual feelings had

already made themselves felt.” This one can well understand, for only

animals of strong sexual tendencies could survive the strenuous life

which the period of sexual activity entails.

The very different interpretation of the behaviour of these animals

at this very important stage of their life-history must be due to the

fact that different colonies were studied which were living, too, under

somewhat different conditions. It seems clear, for example, that the

landing of the females so graphically described by Dr. Lucas was a

landing under exceptional circumstances, the master bulls having taken

up positions at the only spot where access to the desired breeding

quarters was to be found; while Major Barrett Hamilton was probably

fortunate in seeing phases which were wanting in the “rookeries”

examined by Dr. Lucas. And both these observers again differ in the

accounts they give of the life of such “rookeries” with those by Mr.

Elliot, who explored these teeming colonies some years earlier when the

number of animals forgathered there was far larger and the fighting,

apparently in consequence, was far more severe.

In the matter of secondary sexual characters the most remarkable of the

seal-tribe are those of the Elephant Seal and the Bladder-nosed Seal,

and this because of the extraordinary development of inflatable tissue

above the muzzle which these animals display. Of their life-history

we know little enough, and this despite the fact that for generations

the Elephant Seal was mercilessly hunted and slain for the sake of its

oil. Millions were slaughtered during the last century, yet only scraps

of information on the economy of the creatures has come down to us.

All that is of any value, and especially in regard to the “Courting”

period, we owe to Mr. Charles Townsend, of the New York Aquarium, and

this in regard to the northern species, _Macrorhinus angustirostris_

of Guadelupe, though it may safely be inferred that the Southern,

Antarctic species, _M. leoninus_, differs in no essential respects.

According to Mr. Townsend, the adult bull, having taken possession of

his territory and formed a harem, is constantly called upon to wage

duels for both with less fortunate rivals. And the severity of such

combats was attested by the deep wounds and festering sores of the

necks of these old warriors—which, at their maximum, attained in the

days of their prosperity a length of nearly thirty feet and a girth of

sixteen feet; but the last survivors of the race to-day seem rarely to

exceed twenty-two feet. The weapons used in fighting are the canines,

and the only armour they possess is that formed by the thickening of

the skin of the neck, which forms a great massive shield, so that

really dangerous wounds are rare. The great fleshy proboscis, the most

vulnerable part, is carefully guarded by the upturned position of the

head. The use of this trunk-like organ, which may attain a length

of about fifteen inches, is not clear; it seems to serve mainly as

an “ornament,” at times, too, furnishing a very definite indication

as to the temper of its owner. While the animal is slowly moving its

great carcase from place to place, this remarkable organ is relaxed,

and pendent; but when fighting it is closely contracted so as to be

out of harm’s way. Whether it plays any useful part in the capture of

food is not known; but it is probably much displayed during phases of

sexual excitement. In young animals, it is significant to notice, as

well as in the adult female this trunk is entirely wanting, which seems

to suggest that this peculiar feature has only been recently acquired,

the young and the adult female, as is the rule, standing nearer to the

early forebears of this strange type. There is an enormous difference,

it should be remarked, between the sexes in the matter of size, the

female not attaining more than half the bulk of her lord. A further

interesting point concerns the coloration of the young, which are

black, while the adults are brown. Doubtless this is connected with the

requirements of the young, the black coat attracting more heat than the

lighter-coloured coat of the adult.

As touching that curious creature, the Crested, or Hooded Seal

(_Cystophora cristatus_), a native of the colder regions of the North

Atlantic. This animal is remarkable for the development, in the males

alone, of a great crest or casque on the head, which is formed by a

large inflatable air-sac over the ridge of the nose, and communicating

with the nostrils. When fully inflated, it covers the head as far back

as the eye. Its purpose is a matter of conjecture. It seems to be

inflated either when he animal is greatly excited, as when challenging

rival males, or when threatened with danger from other causes, as

when attacked by man. The males are exceedingly pugnacious, and fight

with one another for the possession of females with great ferocity,

such contests being accompanied by cries which can be heard for miles.

From the difficulty which Esquimaux and sealers find in killing the

animal with clubs it certainly seems as if this strange wind-bag were

more than merely ornamental.

[Illustration: Plate 14.

_Photo copyright, W. P. Pycraft._

ELEPHANT SEAL.

This is a young animal. Note the great size of the eyes, and the

general “seal-like” character of the head as compared with that of the

adult.]

[Illustration: _Photo by courtesy of Charles Haskins Townsend, Director

of New York Aquarium._

NORTHERN ELEPHANT SEAL.

Adult male and female, and yearling. The male shows the enormously

inflated snout.

[Face page 88.]

That those extraordinary creatures the Cetacea—the Whales and their

kin—are derived from the same common stock as the typical carnivora

there can nowadays be no doubt, widely as they have departed from

their land-dwelling relatives in almost every possible feature of

their organization. In the matter of their “Courtship” we know

nothing, but we may infer certain incidents in this critical period

of their life-history from the peculiar nature of the secondary

sexual characters which some species display. Thus in the Pilot

Whale (_Globicephalus_) and the Bottle-nose Whale (_Hyperoödon_) the

forehead, in the bulls, is enormously swollen by a mass of fibrous

tissue so dense as to turn the blade of the sharpest knife, as I

know well from attempts to dissect this region. Now the only use,

surely, for such a cushion is that of a battering-ram by rival males

in charging one another, as rams and other horned animals will do. In

the Bottle-nose Whale this cushion is backed up by an enormous mass of

solid bone thrown up by the maxillæ. The origin of this bony growth

is interesting, for it appears first as a slight swelling in the rare

species _Berardius_; it is seen at a further stage of growth in the

female “Bottle-nose” (_Hyperoödon_), and attains its maximum in the

male, where it stands unique. There are two other species which demand

notice here. The first is Layard’s Beaked Whale (_Mesoplodon_); the

second the Narwhal. The former is the only vertebrate which in a wild

state wears a muzzle! In this species the teeth have totally vanished

save for a pair in the lower jaw, which are found towards the end of

the jaw. These in the adult, or perhaps we should say senile, male

grow upwards and inwards, finally meeting one another above the upper

jaw, so as to make it impossible for the animal to open its mouth more

than the fraction of an inch! Surely here we have a secondary sexual

character carried to an excess, and so proving not only disadvantageous

to the animal, but positively disastrous, for it seems clear that so

hampered the creature can feed only on the most minute forms of animal

life, which could only be captured and swallowed with difficulty. It

is true that the Rorquals feed on excessively minute Crustacea, but

they are able to take in enormous quantities at a time, the “whalebone”

serving the office of a sieve to prevent their escape. The Mesoplodon

has no such aids. One is tempted to believe that the skulls displaying

this most curious feature are abnormal, comparable to those, say, of

rabbits wherein the teeth have grown so excessively long as to close

the mouth, on account of the displacement of the cutting surfaces by

accident. But there is nothing to afford support to this view, and one

must therefore fall back on the suggestion of senility.

The Narwhal has long been celebrated for the enormous size of the

canine teeth, the only teeth present in the jaws. As a rule, only

one leaves its bony socket, the other, commonly the right, remaining

as a mere vestige, seven or eight inches long within the skull. The

protruding tooth, which is spirally fluted, may attain a length of

nine feet. Occasionally both teeth are developed, and in this case

the spiral is the same, differing in a very striking manner from

the spiral horns of ruminants, wherein one presents a right, the

other left-handed spiral. But what purpose do these teeth serve? This

question has never yet been definitely settled. Some hold that it is

used to break open breathing holes in the ice, for the animal lives

in the far north: others that it is used as a spear in hunting prey.

Some aver that it serves as a weapon of offence, being used by rival

males in their struggle for mates. Scoresby, the explorer, indeed, says

he has seen young males in mock-battle, fencing with these remarkable

weapons. But until we have more satisfactory data, we must regard this

armature of the Narwhal as affording another instance of a secondary

sexual character of doubtful value to its possessor.

The Courtship of Animals · 第 5 / 14 章