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| YOUNG FOLKS' |
| |
| LIBRARY |
| |
| |
| SELECTIONS FROM THE CHOICEST LITERATURE OF ALL LANDS: |
| FOLK-LORE, FAIRY TALES, FABLES, LEGENDS, NATURAL |
| HISTORY, WONDERS OF EARTH, SEA AND SKY, |
| ANIMAL STORIES, SEA TALES, BRAVE DEEDS, |
| EXPLORATIONS, STORIES OF SCHOOL AND |
| COLLEGE LIFE, BIOGRAPHY, |
| HISTORY, PATRIOTIC |
| ELOQUENCE, POETRY |
| |
| |
| THIRD EDITION |
| |
| REVISED IN CONFERENCE BY |
| |
| THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, |
| PRESIDENT WILLIAM JEWETT TUCKER, |
| HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, HENRY |
| VAN DYKE, NATHAN HASKELL DOLE |
| |
| |
| _TWENTY VOLUMES_ _RICHLY ILLUSTRATED_ |
| |
| BOSTON |
| HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY |
| PUBLISHERS |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
COPYRIGHT, 1902,
BY HALL & LOCKE COMPANY.
BOSTON, U. S. A.
Stanhope Press
F. H. GILSON COMPANY
BOSTON, U. S. A.
EDITORIAL BOARD
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, Editor-in-chief,
Author, poet, former editor _Atlantic Monthly_, Boston, Mass.
The HON. GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR,
United States Senator, Worcester, Mass.
The HON. JOHN D. LONG,
Secretary of the United States Navy, Boston.
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, LL.D.,
Author, literarian, associate editor _The Outlook_, New York.
ERNEST THOMPSON-SETON,
Artist, author, New York.
JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE,
Author, poet, and editor, Arlington, Mass.
The REVEREND CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY,
Archdeacon, author, Philadelphia.
JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS,
Humorous writer, Atlanta, Ga.
MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD,
Historical novelist, Chicago.
LAURA E. RICHARDS,
Author, Gardiner, Me.
ROSWELL FIELD,
Author, editor _The Evening Post_, Chicago.
TUDOR JENKS,
Author, associate editor _Saint Nicholas_, New York.
GEORGE A. HENTY,
Traveller, author, London, England.
KIRK MUNROE,
Writer of stories for boys, Cocoanut Grove, Fla.
EDITH M. THOMAS,
Poet, West New Brighton, N.Y.
CAROLINE TICKNOR,
Author, editor, Boston.
WILLIAM RAINEY HARPER, D.D., LL.D.,
President Chicago University.
DAVID STARR JORDAN, M.D., LL.D.,
President Leland Stanford Junior University, naturalist, writer,
Stanford University, Cal.
CHARLES ELIOT NORTON, A.M., LL.D., etc.,
Scholar, author, Emeritus Professor of Art at Harvard University.
HENRY VAN DYKE, D.D., LL.D.,
Clergyman, author, Professor Princeton University.
The REVEREND THOMAS J. SHAHAN,
Dean of the Faculty of Divinity, Professor of Early Ecclesiastical
History, Catholic University, Washington, D.C.
WILLIAM P. TRENT,
Author, editor, Professor of English Literature, Columbia
University, New York City.
EDWARD SINGLETON HOLDEN, A.M., LL.D.,
Ex-president University of California, astronomer, author, U.S.
Military Academy, West Point.
EDWIN ERLE SPARKS,
Professor of American History, Chicago University.
The VERY REV. GEORGE M. GRANT. D.D., LL.D.,
Educator, author, vice-principal Queen's College, Kingston, Ont.
NATHAN HASKELL DOLE,
Author, translator, literary editor _Current History_, Boston.
ABBIE FARWELL BROWN,
Author, Boston.
CHARLES WELSH, Managing Editor,
Author, lecturer, editor, Winthrop Highlands, Mass.
LIST OF VOLUMES
VOLUME I.
THE STORY TELLER
Edited by CHARLES ELIOT NORTON
VOLUME II.
THE MERRY MAKER
Edited by JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
VOLUME III.
FAMOUS FAIRY TALES
Edited by ROSWELL FIELD
VOLUME IV.
TALES OF FANTASY
Edited by TUDOR JENKS
VOLUME V.
MYTHS AND LEGENDS
Edited by THOMAS J. SHAHAN
VOLUME VI.
THE ANIMAL STORY BOOK
Edited by ERNEST THOMPSON-SETON
VOLUME VII.
SCHOOL AND COLLEGE DAYS
Edited by KIRK MUNROE and MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD
VOLUME VIII.
BOOK OF ADVENTURE
Edited by NATHAN HASKELL DOLE
VOLUME IX.
FAMOUS EXPLORERS
Edited by EDWIN ERLE SPARKS
VOLUME X.
BRAVE DEEDS
Edited by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE
VOLUME XI.
WONDERS OF EARTH, SEA, AND SKY
Edited by EDWARD SINGLETON HOLDEN
VOLUME XII.
FAMOUS TRAVELS
Edited by GEORGE A. HENTY
VOLUME XIII.
SEA STORIES
Edited by CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY
VOLUME XIV.
A BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY
Edited by DAVID STARR JORDAN
VOLUME XV.
HISTORIC SCENES IN FICTION
Edited by HENRY VAN DYKE
VOLUME XVI.
FAMOUS BATTLES BY LAND AND SEA
Edited by JOHN D. LONG
VOLUME XVII.
MEN WHO HAVE RISEN
Edited by HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
VOLUME XVIII.
BOOK OF PATRIOTISM
Edited by GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR
VOLUME XIX.
LEADERS OF MEN, OR HISTORY TOLD IN BIOGRAPHY
Edited by WILLIAM RAINEY HARPER
VOLUME XX.
FAMOUS POEMS
Selected by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, with Poetical Foreword by
EDITH M. THOMAS.
[Illustration: THE CONDOR.]
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| _Young Folks' Library in Twenty Volumes_ |
| _Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Editor-in-Chief_ |
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| A BOOK OF |
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| NATURAL |
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| HISTORY |
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| EDITED BY |
| DAVID STARR JORDAN |
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| _VOLUME XIV_ |
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| [Illustration] |
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| BOSTON |
| HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY |
| PUBLISHERS |
| |
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CONTENTS
PAGE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
ANIMALS, BIRDS, AND FISHES xv
BY DAVID STARR JORDAN.
THE WONDER OF LIFE 1
BY PROFESSOR T. H. HUXLEY.
LIFE GROWTH;--FROGS 10
BY MARGARET WARNER MORLEY.
THE MAN-LIKE APES 15
BY PROFESSOR T. H. HUXLEY.
SOME STRANGE NURSERIES 46
BY GRANT ALLEN.
HOW ANIMALS SPEND THE WINTER 69
BY W. S. BLATCHLEY.
BIRDS' NESTS 88
BY JOHN BURROUGHS.
BIRDS IN THEIR RELATION TO AGRICULTURE 121
BY LAWRENCE BRUNER.
THE SCISSOR BEAK 143
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
THE CONDOR 146
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
THE UMBRELLA BIRD 153
BY SIR A. R. WALLACE.
HUMMING BIRDS 155
BY THOMAS G. BELT, F.G.S.
THE FOUNDATIONS OF A WONDERFUL CITY 158
BY MAURICE MAETERLINCK.
WASPS 175
BY THOMAS G. BELT, F.G.S.
A WASP AND ITS PREY 180
BY G. W. AND E. G. PECKHAM.
LEAF-CUTTING ANTS 190
BY THOMAS G. BELT, F.G.S.
SOME WONDERFUL SPIDERS 197
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
WHAT I SAW IN AN ANT'S NEST 201
BY ANDREW WILSON.
THE WILD LLAMA 228
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
BATS 232
BY W. S. DALLAS, F.G.S.
HOW SNAKES EAT 258
BY CATHERINE C. HOPLEY.
WHAT WORMS DO 264
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
TWO FOPS AMONG THE FISHES 284
BY W. S. BLATCHLEY.
SEA SLUGS AND CUTTLE-FISH 292
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
THE COW FISH 295
BY SIR ALFRED RUSSELL WALLACE.
OLD RATTLER AND THE KING SNAKE 297
BY DAVID STARR JORDAN.
THE STORY OF A STRANGE LAND 303
BY DAVID STARR JORDAN.
THE COLOR OF ANIMALS 315
BY SIR JOHN LUBBOCK BART.
PROTECTIVE RESEMBLANCES IN SPIDERS 343
BY E. G. PECKHAM.
THE BATH OF THE BIRDS 369
BY RICHARD JEFFERIES.
THE LOON 378
BY HENRY D. THOREAU.
THE DARTMOOR PONIES 384
BY ARABELLA R. BUCKLEY.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 396
SUGGESTIONS FOR SUPPLEMENTARY READING 398
NOTE.
The publishers' acknowledgments are due to Miss Margaret Warner Morley
and Messrs. A. C. McClurg & Co. for permission to use "Life
Growth,--Frogs"; to Mr. W. S. Blatchley and _The Popular Science
Monthly_ for "How Animals Spend the Winter" and "Two Fops Among the
Fishes"; to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. for "Birds' Nests," by
John Burroughs; to Mr. L. Bruner and the Nebraska Ornithologists'
Union for "Birds in Their Relation to Agriculture"; to G. W. and E. G.
Peckham for "A Wasp and Its Prey" and "Protective Resemblances in
Spiders"; to President David Starr Jordan and _The Popular Science
Monthly_ for "Old Rattler and the King Snake"; to President Jordan and
A. C. McClurg & Co. for "The Story of a Strange Land."
LIST OF COLORED ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE CONDOR Frontispiece
THE GORILLA Face Page 40
THE YELLOW BELLIED WOODPECKER 92
THE UMBRELLA BIRD 154
THE GUANACO 230
THE VAMPIRE BAT 242
THE COW FISH 296
AND ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO BLACK AND WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE
TEXT.
ANIMALS, BIRDS, AND FISHES
BY
DAVID STARR JORDAN, LL.D.
This volume is made up from the writings of naturalists who have told
us of the behavior of animals as they have seen it at first hand and
of the beginnings and the growth of life so far as they know about it.
In selecting these from the wealth of available material the editor
has been guided by this rule: The subject matter must be interesting
to young people; it must be told in a clear and attractive style; and
most important of all, it must deal with actualities. We have seen in
the last few years a marked revival of nature studies. This has led to
a wider range of interest in natural phenomena and in the growth and
ways of animals and plants. If this movement is not to be merely a
passing fad, the element of truthfulness must be constantly insisted
upon. If a clever imagination, or worse, sentimental symbolism, be
substituted for the truth of nature, the value of such studies is
altogether lost.
The essence of character-building lies in action. The chief value of
nature study in character-building is that, like life itself, it
deals with realities. One must in life make his own observations,
frame his own inductions, and apply them in action as he goes along.
The habit of finding out the best thing to do next and then doing it
is the basis of character. Nature-study, if it be genuine, is
essentially doing. To deal with truth is necessary, if we are to know
truth when we see it in action. The rocks and shells, the frogs and
lilies, always tell the absolute truth. Every leaf on the tree is an
original document in botany. When a thousand are used or used up, the
archives of Nature are just as full as ever. By the study of realities
wisdom is built up. In the relations of objects he can touch and move,
the child finds the limitations of his powers, the laws that govern
phenomena, which his own actions must obey. So long as he deals with
realities, these laws stand in their proper relation. "So simple, so
natural, so true," says Agassiz. "This is the charm of dealing with
nature herself. She brings us back to absolute truth so often as we
wander."
So long as a child is led from one reality to another, never lost in
words or abstractions,--so long this natural relation remains. "What
can I do with it?" is the beginning of wisdom. "What is it to me?" is
the beginning of personal virtue.
By adding near things to near, the child grows in Knowledge.
Knowledge, tested and set in order, is Science. Nature-study is the
beginning of science. It is the science of the child. The "world as
it is" is the province of science. In proportion as our actions
conform to the conditions of the world as it is, do we find the world
beautiful, glorious, divine. The truth of the world as it is must be
the final inspiration of art, poetry, and religion. The world, as men
have agreed to say that it is, is quite another matter. The less our
children hear of this, the less they may have to unlearn. Nature
studies have long been valued as "a means of grace," because they
arouse the enthusiasm, the love of work, which belongs to open-eyed
youth. The child blase with moral precepts and irregular conjugations
turns with fresh delight to the unrolling of ferns or the song of
birds.
Nature must be questioned in earnest, or she will not reply. But to
every serious question she will return a serious answer. "Simple,
natural, and true," she tends to create simplicity and truth. Truth
and virtue are but opposite sides of the same shield. As leaves pass
over into flowers, and flowers into fruit, so are wisdom, virtue, and
happiness inseparably related.
This little volume is a contribution to the subject matter of Nature
Study. It is the work of students of nature, and their work is
"simple, natural, and true," in so far as it is represented here.
[Illustration: (Signature) David Starr Jordan]
LELAND STANFORD JR. UNIVERSITY,
CALIFORNIA, _April_ 22, 1902.
A BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY
THE WONDER OF LIFE
(FROM HIS SCIENCE PRIMER, INTRODUCTION.)
BY PROFESSOR, T. H. HUXLEY.
[Illustration]
Every one has seen a cornfield. If you pluck up one of the innumerable
wheat plants which are fixed in the soil of the field, about harvest
time, you will find that it consists of a stem which ends in a root at
one end and an ear at the other, and that blades or leaves are
attached to the sides of the stem. The ear contains a multitude of
oval grains which are the seeds of the wheat plant. You know that when
these seeds are cleared from the husk or bran in which they are
enveloped, they are ground into fine powder in mills, and that this
powder is the flour of which bread is made. If a handful of flour
mixed with a little cold water is tied up in a coarse cloth bag, and
the bag is then put into a large vessel of water and well kneaded with
the hands, it will become pasty, while the water will become white. If
this water is poured away into another vessel, and the kneading
process continued with some fresh water, the same thing will happen.
But if the operation is repeated the paste will become more and more
sticky, while the water will be rendered less and less white, and at
last will remain colorless. The sticky substance which is thus
obtained by itself is called gluten; in commerce it is the substance
known as maccaroni.
If the water in which the flour has thus been washed is allowed to
stand for a few hours, a white sediment will be found at the bottom of
the vessel, while the fluid above will be clear and may be poured off.
This white sediment consists of minute grains of starch, each of
which, examined with the microscope, will be found to have a
concentrically laminated structure. If the fluid from which the starch
was deposited is now boiled it will become turbid, just as white of
egg diluted with water does when it is boiled, and eventually a
whitish lumpy substance will collect at the bottom of the vessel. This
substance is called vegetable albumin.
Besides the albumin, the gluten, and the starch, other substances
about which this rough method of analysis gives us no information, are
contained in the wheat grain. For example, there is woody matter or
cellulose, and a certain quantity of sugar and fat. It would be
possible to obtain a substance similar to albumin, starch, saccharine,
and fatty matters, and cellulose, by treating the stem, leaves, and
root in a similar fashion, but the cellulose would be in far larger
proportion. Straw, in fact, which consists of the dry stem and leaves
of the wheat plant, is almost wholly made up of cellulose. Besides
this, however, it contains a certain proportion of mineral bodies,
among them, pure flint or silica; and, if you should ever see a wheat
rick burnt, you will find more or less of this silica, in a glassy
condition, in the embers. In the living plant, all these bodies are
combined with a large proportion of water, or are dissolved, or
suspended in that fluid. The relative quantity of water is much
greater in the stem and leaves than in the seed.
Everybody has seen a common fowl. It is an active creature which runs
about and sometimes flies. It has a body covered with feathers,
provided with two wings and two legs, and ending at one end in a neck
terminated by a head with a beak, between the two parts of which the
mouth is placed. The hen lays eggs, each of which is inclosed in a
hard shell. If you break an egg the contents flow out and are seen to
consist of the colorless glairy "white" and the yellow "yolk." If the
white is collected by itself in water and then heated it becomes
turbid, forming a white solid, very similar to the vegetable albumin,
which is called animal albumin.
If the yolk is beaten up with water, no starch nor cellulose is
obtained from it, but there will be plenty of fatty and some
saccharine matter, besides substances more or less similar to albumin
and gluten.
The feathers of the fowl are chiefly composed of horn; if they are
stripped off and the body is boiled for a long time, the water will be
found to contain a quantity of gelatin, which sets into a jelly as it
cools; and the body will fall to pieces, the bones and the flesh
separating from one another. The bones consist almost entirely of a
substance which yields gelatin when it is boiled in water, impregnated
with a large quantity of salts of lime, just as the wood of the wheat
stem is impregnated with silica. The flesh, on the other hand, will
contain albumin, and some other substances which are very similar to
albumin, termed fibrin and syntonin.
In the living bird, all these bodies are united with a great quantity
of water, or dissolved, or suspended in water; and it must be
remembered that there are sundry other constituents of the fowl's body
and of the egg, which are left unmentioned, as of no present
importance.
The wheat plant contains neither horn, nor gelatin, and the fowl
contains neither starch, nor cellulose; but the albumin of the plant
is very similar to that of the animal, and the fibrin and syntonin of
the animal are bodies closely allied to both albumin and gluten.
That there is a close likeness between all these bodies is obvious
from the fact that when any of them is strongly heated, or allowed to
putrefy, it gives off the same sort of disagreeable smell; and careful
chemical analysis has shown that they are, in fact, all composed of
the elements carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, combined in very
nearly the same proportions. Indeed, charcoal, which is impure carbon,
might be obtained by strongly heating either a handful of corn, or a
piece of fowl's flesh, in a vessel from which the air is excluded so
as to keep the corn or the flesh from burning. And if the vessel were
a still, so that the products of this destructive distillation, as it
is called, could be condensed and collected, we should find water and
ammonia, in some shape or other, in the receiver. Now ammonia is a
compound of the elementary bodies, nitrogen and hydrogen; therefore
both nitrogen and hydrogen must have been contained in the bodies from
which it is derived.
It is certain, then, that very similar nitrogenous compounds form a
very large part of the bodies of both the wheat plant and the fowl,
and these bodies are called proteids.
It is a very remarkable fact that not only are such substances as
albumin, gluten, fibrin, and syntonin, known exclusively as products
of animal and vegetable bodies, but that every animal and every plant,
at all periods of its existence, contains one or other of them,
though, in other respects, the composition of living bodies may vary
indefinitely. Thus, some plants contain neither starch nor cellulose,
while these substances are found in some animals; while many animals
contain no horny matter and no gelatin-yielding substance. So that the
matter which appears to be the essential foundation of both the animal
and the plant is the proteid united with water; though it is probable
that, in all animals and plants, these are associated with more or
less fatty and amyloid (or starchy and saccharine) substances, and
with very small quantities of certain mineral bodies, of which the
most important appear to be phosphorus, iron, lime, and potash.
Thus there is a substance composed of water + proteids + fat +
amyloids + mineral matters which is found in all animals and plants;
and, when these are alive, this substance is termed protoplasm.
The wheat plant in the field is said to be a living thing; the fowl
running about the farmyard is also said to be a living thing. If the
plant is plucked up, and if the fowl is knocked on the head, they soon
die and become dead things. Both the fowl and the wheat plant, as we
have seen, are composed of the same elements as those which enter into
the composition of mineral matter, though united into compounds which
do not exist in the mineral world. Why, then, do we distinguish this
matter when it takes the shape of a wheat plant or a fowl, as living
matter?
In the spring a wheat-field is covered with small green plants. These
grow taller and taller until they attain many times the size which
they had when they first appeared; and they produce the heads of
flowers which eventually change into ears of corn.
In so far as this is a process of growth, accompanied by the
assumption of a definite form, it might be compared with the growth of
a crystal of salt in brine: but, on closer examination, it turns out
to be something very different. For the crystal of salt grows by
taking to itself the salt contained in the brine, which is added to
its exterior; whereas the plant grows by addition to its interior: and
there is not a trace of the characteristic compounds of the plant's
body, albumin, gluten, starch, or cellulose, or fat, in the soil, or
in the water, or in the air.
Yet the plant creates nothing; and, therefore, the matter of the
proteins and amyloids and fats which it contains must be supplied to
it, and simply manufactured, or combined in new fashions, in the body
of the plant.
It is easy to see, in a general way, what the raw materials are which
the plant works up, for the plant get nothing but the materials
supplied to it by the atmosphere and by the soil. The atmosphere
contains oxygen and nitrogen, a little carbonic acid gas, a minute
quantity of ammoniacal salts, and a variable proportion of water. The
soil contains clay and sand (silica), lime, iron, potash, phosphorus,
sulphur, ammoniacal salts, and other matters which are of no
importance. Thus, between them, the soil and the atmosphere contain
all the elementary bodies which we find in the plant; but the plant
has to separate them and join them together afresh.
Moreover, the new matter, by the addition of which the plant grows, is
not applied to its outer surface, but is manufactured in its interior;
and the new molecules are diffused among the old ones.
The grain of wheat is a part of the flower of the wheat plant, which,
when it becomes ripe, is easily separated. It contains a minute and
rudimentary plant; and, when it is sown, this gradually grows, or
becomes developed into, the perfect plant, with its stem, roots,
leaves, and flowers, which again give rise to similar seeds. No
mineral body runs through a regular series of changes of form and
size, and then gives off parts of its substance which take the same
course. Mineral bodies present no such development, and give off no
seeds or germs. They do not reproduce their kind.
The fowl in the farmyard is incessantly pecking about and swallowing
now a grain of corn, and now a fly or a worm. In fact, it is feeding,
and, as every one knows, would soon die if not supplied with food. It
is also a matter of every-day knowledge that it would not be of much
use to give a fowl the soil of a cornfield, with plenty of air and
water, to eat.
In this respect, the fowl is like all other animals; it cannot
manufacture the proteid materials of its body, but it has to take them
ready made, or in a condition which requires but very slight
modification by devouring the bodies either of other animals or of
plants. The animal or vegetable substances devoured are taken into the
animal's stomach; they are there digested or dissolved; and thus they
are fitted to be distributed to all parts of the fowl's own body, and
applied to its maintenance and growth.
The fowl's egg is formed in the body of the hen, and is, in fact, part
of her body inclosed in a shell and detached. It contains a minute
rudiment of a fowl; and when it is kept at a proper temperature by the
hen's sitting upon it, or otherwise for three weeks, this rudiment
grows, or develops, at the expense of the materials contained in the
yolk and the white, into a small bird, the chick, which is then
hatched and grows into a fowl. The animal, therefore, is produced by
the development of a germ in the same way as the plant; and, in this
respect, all plants and all animals agree with one another, and differ
from all mineral matter.
Thus there is a very broad distinction between mineral matter and
living matter. The elements of living matter are identical with those
of mineral bodies; and the fundamental laws of matter and motion apply
as much to living matter as to mineral matter; but every living body
is, as it were, a complicated piece of mechanism which "goes," or
lives, only under certain conditions. The germ contained in the
fowl's egg requires nothing but a supply of warmth, within certain
narrow limits of temperature, to build the molecules of the egg into
the body of the chick. And the process of development of the egg, like
that of the seed, is neither more nor less mysterious than that, in
virtue of which, the molecules of water, when it is cooled down to the
freezing-point, build themselves up into regular crystals.
The further study of living bodies leads to the province of biology,
of which there are two great divisions--botany, which deals with
plants, and zooelogy, which treats of animals.
Each of these divisions has its subdivisions--such as morphology,
which treats of the form, structure, and development of living beings,
and physiology, which explains their actions or functions, besides
others.
[Illustration]
LIFE GROWTH;--FROGS
(FROM A SONG OF LIFE.)
BY MARGARET WARNER MORLEY.[1]
[1] Copyright by A. C. McClurg & Co., 1891.
[Illustration]
Somewhat higher than the fish in the scale of life is the frog.
Although he begins life as a fish, and in the tadpole state breathes
by gills, he soon discards the water-diluted air of the pond, and with
perfect lungs boldly inhales the pure air of the upper world. His life
as a tadpole, although so fish-like, is much inferior to true fish
life: for though the fish has not the perfect lung, he has a
modification of it which he fills with air, not for breathing
purposes, but as an air-sac to make him float like a bubble in the
water. Will he rise to the surface? he inflates the air-bladder. Will
he sink to the bottom? he compresses the air-bladder. But in the frog
the air-bladder changes into the lungs, and is never the delicate
balloon which floats the fish in aqueous space. When the frog's lungs
are perfected, his gills close, and he forever abandons fish-life,
though being a cold-blooded creature he needs comparatively little
air, and delights to return to his childhood's home in the bottom of
the pond. But although he can stay under water for a long time, he is
obliged to hold his breath while there, and when he would breathe must
come to the surface to do so. It is possible to drown him by holding
him under water.
[Illustration: A FROG.]
As a feeder the frog relies upon animal life, which he expertly seizes
with a tongue fastened by the wrong end, as compared with our tongues.
He is a certain marksman, and when he aims at an insect the chances
are that the insect will enter his stomach and be there speedily
changed into a new form of animal life.
Although from the moment the gills disappear the frog is a true land
animal, he is obliged, on account of the fish-like character of his
young, to lay his eggs in the water. For this purpose the frogs enter
the pools in early spring. The surface of every country pond swarms
with the bright-eyed little creatures. They have awakened from a
long, cold, winter sleep, to find the spring about them and within
them. Life has suddenly become abundant and joyous. Their sluggish
blood flows faster, their hearts beat quicker; they leap, they swim,
they swell out their throats and call to each other in various keys.
The toads are with them, and the pretty tree-frogs that change their
color to suit their emotions. And all are rapturously screaming. Their
voices are not musical, according to man's standard, but seem to
afford great satisfaction to the performers in the shrill orchestra of
the swamps, who thus give vent to the flood of life that sweeps
through them after the still, icy winter.
As though the new spring-life were too plentiful to find room in the
frogs and toads already existing, it calls for more frogs and toads;
and new creatures are born to share the extra vitality. Like the
flowers and the fish, the frogs, too, give forth new life. Within
them, too, the miracle is performed. The tiny eggs of the one wake up
and begin to grow. The tiny living bodies in the fertilizing principle
of the other also wake up and begin to grow. But higher life is better
guarded, because less prolific. The frog and the toad lay but few eggs
as compared with the fish. Fish eggs may drop under the stones or
float away, and so escape the vital touch of the fertilizing
principle. There are so many that numbers may be lost and yet enough
remain to continue the family. Not so with the frog family. No egg may
be lost. So we find that the eggs of the frog are not dropped singly,
like so many shot, but are bound together by a colorless, transparent,
jelly-like substance, much like that found in the morning-glory seed,
and which like that supplies nourishment to the young life, for the
tadpole feeds upon it until he is able to seek other food. Moreover,
instinct has taught the frog the need of extreme caution in the act of
fertilization. Every egg _must_ be fertilized. As the time draws near
for the dropping of the few eggs into the water, the male frog so
places himself that the moment the eggs are being laid, he pours over
them, one by one, as they fall into the water, the fertilizing fluid.
And thus the mystery of life is again repeated. The union of the
living, microscopic bodies of the fertilizing principle with the new
laid egg is followed by the growth of the two elements into a living
creature, able to eat, to breathe, to see, to feel. In some unknown
way the atom of fertilizing principle seems to have contained the
whole life of the father-frog, for it can give to his sons and
daughters any of his peculiarities, either of color, form, motion, or
disposition; and the tiny egg seems to have contained the whole life
of the mother-frog, and can give to her sons and daughters any of her
peculiarities; though, as is true of all inheritance, the tadpoles, as
the young frogs are called, share the natures of both parents,
inheriting some peculiarities from the father and others from the
mother.
[Illustration: A FROG.]
But, like other life, although the frogs may vary a good deal within
frog limits, none of them can escape their own limits and enter into
those of any other life. Once a frog, always a frog; and no frog-egg
may hope to develop into a turtle, or a bird, or anything but a frog.
The life in the fertilizing principle of the frog is sacred to frog
eggs, and is lifeless in contact with any other.
Our common frogs, like many of the fishes, do not trouble themselves
about the fate of their eggs after they are carefully laid in a safe
place. They trust Mother Nature to see the little tadpoles safely
through the perils of childhood, to help them change their dresses and
get rid of their tails, and cut, not their teeth, but their arms and
legs.
In Venezuela, however, there dwells a frog with well developed
maternal instinct. The mothers have pockets on their backs, not for
their own convenience, but as cradles for their babies. The fathers
put the fertilized eggs into the pockets of the mothers; and there
they remain, well guarded, until the young are able to care for
themselves.
[Illustration: TADPOLES.]
THE MAN-LIKE APES
(FROM EVIDENCE AS TO MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE.)
BY PROFESSOR T. H. HUXLEY.
[Illustration: HEAD OF GORILLA.]
Sound knowledge respecting the habits and mode of life of the man-like
Apes has been even more difficult of attainment than correct
information regarding their structure.
Once in a generation, a Wallace may be found physically, mentally, and
morally qualified to wander unscathed through the tropical wilds of
America and of Asia, to form magnificent collections as he wanders,
and withal to think out sagaciously the conclusions suggested by his
collections; but, to the ordinary explorer or collector, the dense
forests of equatorial Asia and Africa, which constitute the favorite
habitation of the Orang, the Chimpanzee, and the Gorilla, present
difficulties of no ordinary magnitude; and the man who risks his life
by even a short visit to the malarious shores of those regions may
well be excused if he shrinks from facing the dangers of the interior;
if he contents himself with stimulating the industry of the
better-seasoned natives, and collecting and collating the more or less
mythical reports and traditions with which they are too ready to
supply him.
In such a manner most of the earlier accounts of the habits of the
man-like Apes originated; and even now a good deal of what passes
current must be admitted to have no very safe foundation. The best
information we possess is that based almost wholly on direct European
testimony respecting the Gibbons; the next best evidence relates to
the Orangs; while our knowledge of the habits of the Chimpanzee and
the Gorilla stands much in need of support and enlargement by
additional testimony from instructed European eye-witnesses.
It will therefore be convenient in endeavoring to form a notion of
what we are justified in believing about these animals, to commence
with the best known man-like Apes, the Gibbons, and Orangs; and to
make use of the perfectly reliable information respecting them as a
sort of criterion of the probable truth or falsehood of assertions
respecting the others.
Of the Gibbons, half a dozen species are found scattered over the
Asiatic Islands, Java, Sumatra, Borneo, and through Malacca, Siam,
Arracan, and an uncertain extent of Hindostan on the mainland of Asia.
The largest attain a few inches above three feet in height, from the
crown to the heel, so that they are shorter than the other man-like
Apes, while the slenderness of their bodies renders their mass far
smaller in proportion even to this diminished height.
Dr. Salomon Mueller, an accomplished Dutch naturalist, who lived for
many years in the Eastern Archipelago, and to the result of whose
personal experience I shall frequently have occasion to refer, states
that the Gibbons are true mountaineers, loving the slopes and edges of
the hills, though they rarely ascend beyond the limit of the
fig-trees. All day long they haunt the tops of the tall trees, and
though toward evening, they descend in small troops to the open
ground, no sooner do they spy a man than they dart up the hillsides
and disappear in the darker valleys.
All observers testify to the prodigious volume of voice possessed by
these animals. According to the writer whom I have just cited, in one
of them, the Siamang, "the voice is grave and penetrating, resembling
the sounds goek, goek, goek, goek, goek ha ha ha ha haaaaa, and may be
easily heard at a distance of half a league." While the cry is being
uttered, the great membranous bag under the throat which communicates
with the organ of voice, the so-called "laryngeal sac," becomes
greatly distended, diminishing again when the creature relapses into
silence.
M. Duvaucel, likewise, affirms that the cry of the Siamang may be
heard for miles--making the woods ring again. So Mr. Martin describes
the cry of the agile Gibbon as "overpowering and deafening" in a room,
and "from its strength, well calculated for resounding through the
vast forests." Mr. Waterhouse, an accomplished musician as well as
zooelogist, says, "The Gibbon's voice is certainly much more powerful
than that of any singer I ever heard." And yet it is to be recollected
that this animal is not half the height of, and far less bulky in
proportion than, a man.
[Illustration: A GIBBON.]
There is good testimony that various species of Gibbon readily take to
the erect posture. Mr. George Bennett, a very excellent observer, in
describing the habits of a male _Hylobates syndactylus_ which remained
for some time in his possession, says: "He invariably walks in the
erect posture when on a level surface; and then the arms either hang
down, enabling him to assist himself with his knuckles; or, what is
more usual, he keeps his arms uplifted in nearly an erect position,
with the hands pendent ready to seize a rope, and climb up on the
approach of danger or on the obtrusion of strangers. He walks rather
quick in the erect posture, but with a waddling gait, and is soon run
down if, while pursued, he has no opportunity of escaping by
climbing.... When he walks in the erect posture, he turns the leg and
foot outward, which occasions him to have a waddling gait and to seem
bow-legged."
Dr. Burrough states of another Gibbon, the Horlack or Hooluk:
"They walk erect; and when placed on the floor, or in an open field,
balance themselves very prettily by raising their hands over their
head and slightly bending the arm at the wrist and elbow, and then run
tolerably fast, rocking from side to side; and, if urged to greater
speed, they let fall their hands to the ground, and assist themselves
forward, rather jumping than running, still keeping the body, however,
nearly erect."
Somewhat different evidence, however, is given by Dr. Winslow Lewis:
"Their only manner of walking was on their posterior or inferior
extremities, the others being raised upward to preserve their
equilibrium, as rope-dancers are assisted by long poles at fairs.
Their progression was not by placing one foot before the other, but by
simultaneously using both, as in jumping." Dr. Salomon Mueller also
states that the Gibbons progress upon the ground by short series of
tottering jumps, effected only by the hind limbs, the body being held
altogether upright.
But Mr. Martin, who also speaks from direct observation, says of the
Gibbons generally:
"Pre-eminently qualified for arboreal habits, and displaying among the
branches amazing activity, the Gibbons are not so awkward or
embarrassed on a level surface as might be imagined. They walk erect
with a waddling or unsteady gait, but at a quick pace, the equilibrium
of the body requiring to be kept up, either by touching the ground
with the knuckles, first on one side then on the other, or by
uplifting the arms so as to poise it. As with the Chimpanzee, the
whole of the narrow, long sole of the foot is placed upon the ground
at once, and raised at once, without any elasticity of step."
After this mass of concurrent and independent testimony, it cannot
reasonably be doubted that the Gibbons commonly and habitually assume
the erect attitude.
But level ground is not the place where these animals can display
their very remarkable and peculiar locomotive powers, and that
prodigious activity which almost tempts one to rank them among flying,
rather than among ordinary climbing mammals.
Mr. Martin has given so excellent and graphic an account of the
movements of a _Hylobates agilis_, living in the Zooelogical Gardens,
in 1840, that I will quote it in full:
"It is almost impossible to convey in words an idea of the quickness
and graceful address of her movements: they may indeed be termed
aerial, as she seems merely to touch in her progress the branches
among which she exhibits her evolutions. In these feats her hands and
arms are the sole organs of locomotion, her body, hanging as if
suspended by a rope, sustained by one hand (the right, for example),
she launches herself, by an energetic movement, to a distant branch,
which she catches with the left hand; but her hold is less than
momentary; the impulse for the next launch is acquired; the branch
then aimed at is attained by the right hand again, and quitted
instantaneously, and so on, in alternate succession. In this manner
spaces of twelve and eighteen feet are cleared, with the greatest ease
and uninterruptedly, for hours together, without the slightest
appearance of fatigue being manifested; and it is evident that, if
more space could be allowed, distances very greatly exceeding eighteen
feet would be as easily cleared; so that Duvaucel's assertion that he
has seen these animals launch themselves from one branch to another,
forty feet asunder, startling as it is, may be well credited.
Sometimes, on seizing a branch in her progress, she will throw
herself, by the power of one arm only, completely round it, making a
revolution with such rapidity as almost to deceive the eye, and
continue her progress with undiminished velocity. It is singular to
observe how suddenly this Gibbon can stop, when the impetus giving by
the rapidity and distance of her swinging leaps would seem to require
a gradual abatement of her movements. In the very midst of her flight
a branch is seized, the body raised, and she is seen, as if by magic,
quietly seated on it, grasping it with her feet. As suddenly she again
throws herself into action.
"The following facts will convey some notion of her dexterity and
quickness. A live bird was let loose in her apartment; she marked its
flight, made a long swing to a distant branch, caught the bird with
one hand in her passage, and attained the branch with her other hand,
her aim, both at the bird and at the branch, being as successful as if
one object only had engaged her attention. It may be added that she
instantly bit off the head of the bird, picked its feathers, and then
threw it down without attempting to eat it.
"On another occasion this animal swung herself from a perch, across a
passage at least twelve feet wide, against a window which it was
thought would be immediately broken: but not so; to the surprise of
all, she caught the narrow framework between the panes with her hand,
in an instant attained the proper impetus, and sprang back again to
the cage she had left--a feat requiring not only great strength, but
the nicest precision."
The Gibbons appear to be naturally very gentle, but there is very good
evidence that they will bite severely when irritated, a female
_Hylobates agilis_ having so severely lacerated one man with her long
canines that he died; while she had injured others so much that, by
way of precaution, these formidable teeth had been filed down; but if
threatened she would still turn on her keeper. The Gibbons eat
insects, but appear generally to avoid animal food. A Siamang,
however, was seen by Mr. Bennett to seize and devour greedily a live
lizard. They commonly drink by dipping their fingers in the liquid and
then licking them. It is asserted that they sleep in a sitting
posture.
Duvaucel affirms that he has seen the females carry their young to the
water-side and there wash their faces, in spite of resistance and
cries. They are gentle and affectionate in captivity--full of tricks
and pettishness, like spoiled children, and yet not devoid of a
certain conscience, as an anecdote, told by Mr. Bennett will show. It
would appear that his Gibbon had a peculiar inclination for
disarranging things in the cabin. Among these articles a piece of soap
would especially attract his notice, and for the removal of this he
had been once or twice scolded. "One morning," says Mr. Bennett, "I
was writing, the Ape being present in the cabin, when, casting my eyes
toward him, I saw the little fellow taking the soap. I watched him
without him perceiving that I did so: and he occasionally would cast a
furtive glance toward the place where I sat. I pretended to write; he
seeing me busily occupied, took the soap, and moved away with it in
his paw. When he had walked half the length of the cabin, I spoke
quietly, without frightening him. The instant he found I saw him he
walked back again and deposited the soap nearly in the same place from
whence he had taken it. There was certainly something more than
instinct in that action: he evidently betrayed a consciousness of
having done wrong both by his first and last actions--and what is
reason if that is not an exercise of it?"
The most elaborate account of the natural history of the Orang-Utan
extant is that given in the "_Verhandelingen over de Natuurlijke
Geschiedenis der Nederlandsche overzeeche Bezittingen (1839-45)_," by
Dr. Salomon Mueller and Dr. Schlegel, and I shall base what I have to
say upon this subject almost entirely on their statements, adding here
and there particulars of interest from the writings of Brooke,
Wallace, and others.
The Orang-Utan would rarely seem to exceed four feet in height, but
the body is very bulky, measuring two thirds of the height in
circumference.
The Orang-Utan is found only in Sumatra and Borneo, and is common in
either of these islands--in both of which it occurs always in low,
flat plains, never in the mountains. It loves the densest and most
sombre of the forests, which extend from the seashore inland, and thus
is found only in the eastern half of Sumatra, where alone such forests
occur, though, occasionally, it strays over to the western side.
On the other hand it is generally distributed through Borneo, except
in the mountains, or where the population is dense. In favorable
places the hunter may, by good fortune, see three or four in a day.
[Illustration: HEAD OF ORANG-UTAN.]
Except in the pairing time, the old males usually live by themselves.
The old females and the immature males, on the other hand, are often
met with in twos and threes; and the former occasionally have young
with them, though the pregnant females usually separate themselves,
and sometimes remain apart after they have given birth to their
offspring. The young Orangs seem to remain unusually long under their
mother's protection, probably in consequence of their slow growth.
While climbing the mother always carries her young against her bosom,
the young holding on by the mother's hair. At what time of life the
Orang-Utan becomes capable of propagation, and how long the females go
with young is unknown, but it is probable that they are not adult
until they arrive at ten or fifteen years of age. A female which lived
for five years at Batavia had not attained one-third the height of the
wild females. It is probable that, after reaching adult years, they go
on growing, though slowly, and that they live to forty or fifty years.
The Dyaks tell of old Orangs which have not only lost all their
teeth, but which find it so troublesome to climb that they maintain
themselves on windfalls and juicy herbage.
The Orang is sluggish, exhibiting none of that marvellous activity
characteristic of the Gibbons. Hunger alone seems to stir him to
exertion, and when it is stilled he relapses into repose. When the
animal sits, it curves its back and bows its head, so as to look
straight down on the ground; sometimes it holds on with its hands by a
higher branch, sometimes lets them hang phlegmatically down by its
side; and in these positions the Orang will remain for hours together,
in the same spot, almost without stirring, and only now and then
giving utterance to its deep, growling voice. By day he usually climbs
from one tree-top to another, and only at night descends to the
ground: and if then threatened with danger he seeks refuge among the
underwood. When not hunted, he remains a long time in the same
locality, and sometimes stops for many days on the same tree, a firm
place among its branches serving him for a bed. It is rare for the
Orang to pass the night in the summit of a large tree, probably
because it is too windy and cold there for him; but as soon as night
draws on he descends from the height and seeks out a fit bed in the
lower and darker part, or in the leafy top of a small tree, among
which he prefers Nibong palms, Pandani, or one of those parasitic
orchids which gave the primeval forests of Borneo so characteristic
and striking an appearance. But whenever he determines to sleep, there
he prepares himself a sort of nest; little boughs and leaves are drawn
together round the selected spot, and bent crosswise over one
another; while to make the bed soft, great leaves of ferns, of
orchids, of _Pandanus fascicularis_, _Nipa fruticans_, etc., are
laid over them. Those which Mueller saw, many of them being very fresh,
were situated at a height of ten to twenty-five feet above the ground,
and had a circumference, on the average, of two or three feet. Some
were packed many inches thick with _pandanus_ leaves; others were
remarkable only for the cracked twigs, which, united in a common
centre, formed a regular platform. "The rude _hut_," says Sir James
Brooke, "which they are stated to build in the trees, would be more
properly called a seat or nest, for it has no roof or cover of any
sort. The facility with which they form this nest is curious, and I
had an opportunity of seeing a wounded female weave the branches
together and seat herself within a minute."