convenient spot, and as it does not change the position of the hinder
portions of its body much, but continues drawing its thread from
various points, and attaching it to others, it follows that after a
time its body becomes, in a great measure, enclosed by the thread. The
work is then continued from one thread to another, the Silkworm moving
its head and spinning in a zig-zag way, bending the forepart of the
body back to spin in all directions within reach, and shifting the
body only to cover with silk the part which was beneath it. In this
way it encloses itself in a cocoon much shorter than its own body.
During the time of spinning the cocoon the Silkworm decreases in length
considerably, and after the work is done it is not half its original
length. At this time it becomes quite torpid, soon changes its skin,
and appears in the form of a chrysalis. In this state the animal
remains about three weeks; it then bursts its case and comes forth in
the imago state, the moth having previously dissolved a portion of the
cocoon by means of a fluid which it ejects. The moth is short lived;
the female in many instances dies almost immediately after she has laid
her eggs; the male survives her but a short time.
China was the first country in which the labors of the Silkworm were
availed of, and Aristotle was the first Greek author who mentions it.
It was not until the fifteenth century that the manufacture of silk was
established in England. The raising of Silkworms in the United States
has been attempted with success in the Southern States, and especially
in California. As the Silkworms in Europe are affected by disease,
immense quantities of eggs are sent from this country.
Reeling from the cocoons is only performed in countries where the
silk is produced. In plain silk-weaving the process is much the same
as in weaving wool or linen, but the weaver is assisted by a machine
for the even distribution of the warp, which frequently consists of
eight thousand separate threads in a breadth of twenty inches. The
Jacquard loom, invented by a weaver of Lyons, has been the means of
facilitating and cheapening the production of fancy or figured silks to
an extraordinary extent.
The Pan-American delegates during their tour through this country were
presented with silk flags by the Woman's Silk-Culture Association of
Philadelphia. The flags were made from material produced in the United
States.
The eggs from which our photograph was taken are "live eggs," and
if properly handled will hatch out in the spring. In order to bring
about this result care must be taken that they do not become too warm;
freezing will not hurt them, but heat or dampness will cause them to
hatch or spoil.
Forty thousand eggs weigh about one ounce, and when hatched will
produce about one hundred pounds of fresh cocoons.
[Illustration: Life-size.
No. 1--Silkworm eggs. No. 2--Fourth-stage Worm.
No. 3--Pupa in Cocoon. No. 4--Cocoon. No. 5--Male Moth.
No. 6--Female Moth. No. 7--Unspun Silk. No. 8--Raw
Manufactured Silk. No. 9--Manufactured Silk.]
ANIMALS' RIGHTS.
That there is pain and evil, is no rule
That I should make it greater, like a fool.
--_Leigh Hunt_.
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
--_Wordsworth_.
"A good man," said Plutarch, "will take care of his Horses and Dogs,
not only while they are young, but when old and past service."
The organs of sense, and consequently feeling itself, are the same as
they are in human creatures. I can't imagine how a man not hardened in
blood and massacre is able to see a violent death, and the pangs of it,
without concern.--_Bernard de Mandeville, 1723._
However we may differ as to speculative points of religion, justice
is a rule of universal extent and invariable obligation. See that no
brute of any kind, whether intrusted to thy care or coming in thy
way, suffer through thy neglect or abuse. Let no views of profit, no
compliance with custom, and no fear of the ridicule of the world, even
tempt thee to the least act of cruelty or injustice to any creature
whatsoever. But let this be your invariable rule everywhere, and at
all times, to do unto others as, in their condition, you would be done
unto.--_Humphry Primatt, D. D., 1776._
But a full-grown Horse or Dog is, beyond comparison, a more rational,
as well as more conversable animal than an infant of a day, a week, or
even a month old. But suppose the case were otherwise, what would it
avail? The question is not, Can they _reason_? nor, Can they _talk_?
but, Can they _suffer_?--_Jeremy Bentham, 1780._
Animals are endued with a capability of perceiving pleasure and pain;
and from the abundant provision which we perceive in the world for
the gratification of their several senses, we must conclude that the
Creator wills the happiness of these his creatures, and consequently
that humanity towards them is agreeable to him, and cruelty the
contrary. This, I take it, is the foundation of the rights of animals,
as far as they can be traced independently of scripture, and is, even
by itself, decisive on the subject, being the same sort of argument as
that on which moralists found the Rights of Mankind, as deduced from
the Lights of Nature.--_Thomas Young, 1798._
The claims of the lower animals to humane treatment, or at least to
exemption from abuse, are as good as any that man can urge upon man.
Although less intelligent, and not immortal, they are susceptible
of pain; but because they cannot remonstrate, nor associate with
their fellows in defense of their rights, our best theologians and
philosophers have not condescended to plead their cause, nor even
to make mention of them; although, as just asserted, they have as
much right to protection from ill-usage as the best of their masters
have.--_W. Youatt, 1839._
There is a moral as well as a physical character to all animal life,
however humble it may be--enveloped indeed in obscurity, and with a
mysterious solemnity which must ever belong to the secrets of the
Eternal. Let us then approach with caution the unknown character of the
brute, as being an emanation from Himself; and treat with tenderness
and respect the helpless creatures derived from such a source.--_Ralph
Fletcher, 1848._
THE CALIFORNIA VULTURE.
Among the crags, in caverns deep,
The Vulture rears his brood;
Far reaching is his vision's sweep
O'er valley, plain, and wood;
And wheresoe'er the quarry lies,
It cannot 'scape his peering eyes.
The traveler, from the plain below,
Sees first a speck upon the sky--
Then, poised on sweeping wings of woe,
A Vulture, Bat-like, passes by.
--C. C. M.
Doctor Brewer states that the single species composing this very
distinct genus belongs to western North America, and, so far as known,
has the most restricted distribution of all the large raptorial birds
in the world. It is found on the coast ranges of southern California
from Monterey Bay southward into Lower California. It has become very
much reduced in numbers and extinct in localities where it was formerly
abundant, which is doubtless due to the indiscriminate use of poison
which is placed on carcasses for the purpose of killing Wolves, Bears,
Lynxes, Cougars, and other animals which destroy Sheep, Calves, and
other cattle of the stockmen. Davie says it is more common in the warm
valleys of California, among the almost inaccessible cliffs of the
rough mountain ranges running parallel with the Sierra Nevadas for a
hundred miles south of Monterey. It associates with the Turkey Buzzard,
and the habits of both species are alike, and they often feed together
on the same carcass.
The Vulture's flight is easy, graceful, and majestic. A writer who
watched one of these gigantic birds thus pictures it: "High in air an
aeronaut had launched itself--the California Condor. Not a wing or
feather moved, but resting on the wind, like a kite, the great bird,
almost if not quite the equal of its Andean cousin, soared in great
circles, ever lifted by the wind, and rising higher and higher into the
empyrean. Not a motion of the wing could be seen with careful scrutiny
through the glass, but every time the bird turned and faced the wind
it seemed to bound upward as though lifted by some super-human power,
then bearing away before it, gathering the force or momentum which shot
its air-laden frame higher and higher until it almost disappeared from
sight--a living balloon."
The ordinary California Buzzard and the singular Ravens of Santa
Catalina Island often give marvelous exhibitions of soaring or rising
into the air without moving their wings, and when it is remembered that
their bodies are reduced to a minimum of weight, and that even the
bones are filled with air, it is almost scientifically and literally
true that they are living balloons. And yet the weight of the Vulture
is sometimes twenty-five pounds, requiring immense wings--eight and a
half to eleven feet from tip to tip--to support it.
Mr. H. R. Taylor, of the late _Nidologist_, says there have probably
but three or four eggs of the California Vulture been taken, of
which he has one. The egg was taken in May, 1889, in the Santa Lucia
Mountains, San Luis Obispo County, California, at an altitude of 3,480
feet. It was deposited in a large cave in the side of a perpendicular
bluff, which the collector entered by means of a long rope from above.
The bird was on the nest, which was in a low place in the rock, and
which was, the collector says, lined with feathers plucked from her own
body. This assertion, however, Mr. Taylor says, may be an unwarranted
conclusion. From the facts at hand, it appears that the California
Condor lays but a single egg.
The Condor is not an easy bird to capture, for it has a fierce temper
and a powerful beak. An unusually large one, however, was recently
taken in Monterey County, California. To catch the mighty creature
William J. Barry made use of a lasso, such as ranchmen have with which
to round up obstreperous cattle. The strength of one man was barely
sufficient to imprison it. It is said that the appetite of the bird was
not affected by its loss of liberty.
[Illustration: From col. F. M. Woodruff.
CALIFORNIA VULTURE.
1/5 Life-size.
Copyright 1898,
Nature Study Pub. Co., Chicago.]
A GAMELESS COUNTRY.
The West Indian Archipelago, with its four islands and numberless
islets, is called the gameless country, because in a region of more
than 100,000 square miles there are no Monkeys, Bears, Raccoons, Wild
Hogs, Jaguars, Pumas, Panthers, Lynxes, Wild Cats, Foxes, Wolves,
or Jackals. There is not even a Woodchuck to be dug out of the many
caves. Dogs and Cats, too, are unknown, and this lack of household
pets seems to have driven the aborigines to expedients, for in a book
called "Ogilvy's Voyages" there is a story told of a San Domingo native
who kept a tame Manatee or Sea Cow that made its headquarters in an
artificial pond, and was so well trained that when called by its name
it would come out of the water, go to a neighbor's house and after
receiving food return to the pond, accompanied by boys who seemed to
charm it by singing, and it often carried two children on its back. Its
instinct was wonderful. It was once struck by a pike in the hand of a
Spaniard and after that always refused to come out of the water when
there was a clothed man near.
Manatees are often seen northwest of Cuba in shoals, sporting about
the reefs like Sea Lions. They are cunning creatures and can dodge the
harpoon with more success than any other aquatic animal. The largest
land animal of this strange territory is a huge Rat, measuring eighteen
inches in length without the tail. With this exception, it is claimed,
Cuba, Jamaica, San Domingo, and Porto Rico have no land animals.
SNOWFLAKES.
Out of the bosom of the air,
Out of the cloud folds of its garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow,
Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.
--_Longfellow._
THE AMERICAN GOLDEN-EYE.
We watch the hunters creeping near
Or crouching in the silvery grasses;
Their gleaming guns our greatest fear,
As high o'erhead our wild flock passes.
But we are of the air, and speed
Like meteors dropping from the sky;
He's "the man behind the gun" indeed
Who can fairly wing a Golden-eye.
--C. C. M.
For beauty this bird will compare favorably with any of the family
except the Wood Duck, whose colors are more various and brilliant.
Whistler is the name by which it is more commonly known, from the
peculiar noise of wings made while flying. In spite of its short, heavy
body and small wings, it covers immense distances, ninety miles an hour
being the speed credited to it by Audubon, who, however, was not always
accurate in his calculations. It is an abundant species throughout the
fur countries, where it frequents the rivers and fresh-water lakes
in great numbers. It breeds as far north as Alaska, where, on the
Yukon, it nests about the middle of June. Like the Wood Duck, it makes
its nest in hollow trees and decayed trunks. This consists of grass,
leaves, and moss, lined with down from the bird's breast. The eggs are
from six to ten in number, and ashy green in color.
The Golden-eye is a winter visitant to Illinois. On Long Island it is
better known among the hunters as the "Whistler," and by others it is
also called the "Great-head," from its beautifully rich and thickly
crested head. On that island it is said to be a not very abundant
species, arriving there in company with other migratory Ducks. Mr.
Girand met with it in the fall and spring on the Delaware and in
Chesapeake bay. Its food consists of small Shell and other Fish, which
it procures by diving. In the fall the flesh of the Golden-eye is very
palatable. It is very shy and is decoyed with great difficulty. In
stormy weather it often takes shelter in the coves with the Scoup Duck,
and there it may be more readily killed. Naturally the Golden-eye is
chiefly seen in company with the Buffle-head, the Merganser, and other
species that are expert divers like itself. When wounded, unless badly
hurt, its power of diving and remaining under water is said to be so
remarkable that it cannot be taken.
The Golden-eyes always have a sentinel on the watch to announce the
approach of an enemy. They have been very little studied in their
haunts. The word _Clangula_ indicates in some degree the tone of their
voices. They swim under water like fish, out of which they can bound
upward and make off with prodigious speed.
[Illustration: col. Chi. Acad. Sciences
CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO., CHIC. & NEW YORK.
AMERICAN GOLDEN-EYE.
1/3 Life-size.
Copyright 1898,
Nature Study Pub. Co., Chicago.]
GOLDEN ROD.
A lady who has lately been making a visit in the West was telling the
other day about the forlorn aspect of the country out that way to her.
"Even the Golden-rod," she said; "you can't imagine how scraggly and
poor it looks, compared with our magnificent flowers along the road
here. I wonder what makes the Western Golden-rod so inferior." The
very next day there arrived at her house a relative whom she had been
visiting when she was in the West. He sat on the veranda, and looked
indulgently--even admiringly--at the landscape, and praised its
elements of beauty. But as his eye ran along the roadside near by, he
said: "But there is one thing that we are ahead of you in--you have
no such splendid Golden-rod here as we have out West! The Golden-rod
growing along that road, now, is tame and poor compared with ours."
What a blessed thing it is that the gold of our own waysides is richer
than the gold of all other waysides!
THE AMERICAN SKUNK.
This little animal is distinctively American, the one figured being
found only in North America. It has a beautiful jet-black fur, varied
with a larger or smaller amount of white forming a stripe on each side
of its body and head, and more or less of its tail. In some cases the
white is reduced to a small "star" at the top of the head, and without
doubt some specimens are entirely black, while occasionally a white
specimen may be seen.
The fur of the Black Skunk is considered the best, and brings the
highest price which decreases as the amount of white increases, the
white ones being almost valueless. A slight unpleasant odor clings
about the manufactured fur, which detracts much from its commercial
value, although some dealers claim that this is never noticed when it
is sold as "Alaska sable."
Another common name for the Skunk is Polecat. Though found in the
woods, they prefer to inhabit grassy or bushy plains. During the day
they lie sleeping in hollow trees or stumps, in clefts of rocks, or in
caverns, which they dig for themselves; at night they rouse themselves
and eagerly seek for prey. Worms, insects, birds, and small animals,
roots and berries constitute their food.
The range of the Skunk is quite extensive, the animal being most
plentiful near Hudson Bay, whence it is distributed southward.
It is slow in its movements, can neither jump nor climb, but only walk
or hop. Knowing how formidable is its weapon of protection, it is
neither shy nor cowardly.
The Skunk is a much respected animal, both man and beast preferring
to go around him rather than over him, and many amusing anecdotes are
related by hunters and naturalists, which lead us to believe that he
does not always come out second best in an encounter. When in search of
food he is so bold that he can be approached without difficulty, and he
wears a look of innocence that effectually deceives the uninitiated,
and brings about very unexpected results.
Hensel says that when it is pursued by dogs it lays its tail along its
back like a sitting Squirrel, turns its hinder quarters towards the
dogs and performs queer, angry, hopping antics, such as one sometimes
sees in the cages of Bears. The attacked animal never wastes its
secretion by unnecessary haste, but continues to threaten as long as
the dogs are a few yards distant from it.
"Skunk Farming" cannot be said to be a growing industry, but there are
a number of such "farms" in the northern and eastern states which are
said to pay fairly well. A small plat of land is enclosed by a high
board fence; stakes are driven into the ground close together under the
fence so that the animals cannot burrow out. Small shelters are built
in, some hay thrown in for nests, and the farm is ready for the skunks.
Skunks get very tame in captivity and tolerably well accustomed to
their keeper, though great care is required not to irritate them. Hay
is their favorite bed, on which they curl up like a ball. After eating,
they wipe their snouts with their forepaws, being very cleanly, and
they always keep their fur dainty and dressed. The fur is not very fine
or soft, but it is valuable and in considerable demand.
[Illustration: From coll. Mr. F. Kaempfer.
SKUNK.
2/5 Life-size.
Copyright 1898,
Nature Study Pub. Co., Chicago.]
BIRDS IN "THE ILIAD."
EMILY C. THOMPSON.
The universe is so ordered that Birds are essential to the life of Man.
To-day we believe this and value them accordingly. Years ago as well as
now the birds held the same relation toward man but the latter did not
then understand this relationship as we do in this age of scientific
enlightenment. About twenty-eight hundred years ago, nine hundred years
before the beginning of our era, a poet flourished in the East, or
certain poets as some scholars maintain. He is supposed to have been
a blind bard, who wandered around to the courts of the petty kings,
sang his heroic lays and left them for our inheritance, and a noble
inheritance it is to those who have the desire and will to go to the
depth of the treasure. These poems tell of the people of that time and
show us many sides of their life and the chief characteristics of their
civilization.
One scarcely expects from a great poem, dealing with war and adventure,
to gather information about birds. Yet it is there, but not so much
scientific as ethical. Birds, they believed, were here on earth as
the messengers of the gods. Rarely did a bird appear before them or
raise a cry which did not do so by the direct command of some ruling
divinity. Imagine with what anxiety these old Greek heroes watched for
and listened to the heaven-sent messages. Great was the fear at certain
omens, and great the rejoicing at others. As a rule only special men
could interpret these signs and these men were of immense importance in
a community. They were almost a priesthood in nature, as nearly so as
any order which the people then possessed, for the priesthood was not
developed at that time.
In the Iliad, at four of the critical points in the story a bird
appears and shows the will of the gods to mortals. It is related that
before the Greeks sailed to Troy, while the ships were yet assembled
at Aulis, one of these omens occurred and was interpreted thus: Near
the ships was an altar and by the altar stood a plane-tree, upon the
bough of which a little bird had built its nest, and already within the
nest were nine fledglings. Suddenly a serpent darted forth from beneath
the altar straight toward the tree; the nine little birds were soon
devoured and at last the serpent ended his feast by catching the mother
which had flown crying about it. At once the serpent was turned into
stone. This wonderful prodigy was shown by one of the prophets to mean
that for nine years the Greeks would toil fruitlessly before Troy as
the serpent had devoured the nine little birds; but in the tenth year
they would seize the city.
The flight of birds was watched and upon this rested often the
movements of whole armies. As the seer had foretold for nine years the
Greeks had been fighting before the walls of Troy; their ships were
drawn up on the shore of the sea and before them they had built a wall
and dug a ditch for protection. The nine years had passed, the tenth
year was already going by and never had the people from the beleaguered
city dared to approach their ships. But now, after so many years, all
was changed. The great hero of the Greeks, the great swift-footed
Achilles, was angry and refused to fight for them and sat apart at the
stern of his ship on the shore of the barren sea wearing out his heart
with anger. Now the Trojans, never before so successful, had reached
the wall and were encamped there for the night. The Greeks felt that it
was necessary to send out spies to observe the movements of their foes.
Diomede volunteered his services and chose Odysseus for his comrade.
They crept away from their companions in the darkness but had gone only
a few steps when the cry of a Heron was heard on their right. This
meant good luck for them, for they knew that Athene, the protecting
goddess of Odysseus, had sent this favoring sign, and it proved true,
for their sally was prospered and they returned unharmed, having
slain thirteen of the enemy, and bringing as booty a noble pair of
steeds, a prize in which all Greeks took delight.
Even in Homer we see the dawning of skepticism, a skepticism of which
we approve and the sentiment of which we cannot but admire. The next
day after the favorable sign of Athene to her favorite, after nine
long years of terrible war the Trojans stand at the very edge of the
ditch before the Greek ships. Hector their noble leader, a hero who
may well inspire modern men to noble deeds of patriotism, stands at
their head. One rush more, one impetuous dash through the ditch and
against the wall, and the ten years' war may be ended with the weary
Trojans victors. But at this critical moment a bird appears, it is the
favorite bird in Homer and also the favorite bird with us, for it is
our national bird, the Eagle. Homer calls it the bird that is surest
to bring fulfillment with its omens and tells us that it belonged to
mighty Zeus the thunderer, the ruler of gods and men. The bird appeared
flying at the left. The people halted. A bird flying at the left meant
disapproval. It held in its mouth a snake not yet dead, which, coiling
its head, bit at the breast of the bird. The bite was effective, and
with a sharp cry, the bird dropped the serpent at the feet of the
awe-inspired Trojans and fled shrieking away. Well might the people
halt. What was to be done, an onward move against such a portent, or a
calm withdrawal when everything was in their favor? One of the common
people declared that they must withdraw or death would come upon them.
Then noble Hector with frowning brows answered him: "Polydamas, no
longer do you speak words pleasing to me. You know how to speak another
word better than this. If you speak this truly in earnest, the gods
themselves have taken away your senses from you who bid me to forget
the counsels of high-thundering Zeus, the promises he made me and the
plans to which he nodded assent. You bid me put my trust in long-winged
birds which I do not heed or regard at all, whether they fly to the
right toward the sun and the dawn, or to the left toward the murky
darkness. Let us trust the counselings of great Zeus who holds sway
over gods and men. One bird is the best to defend one's fatherland."