near the head, the other pair near the tail of the animal?" They are
air-sacs, and are connected with the breathing or respiration of the
larvæ. Some have supposed that they serve the same office as the
swimming bladder of certain fish, which being compressed or dilated at
will enables the creature to remain still in mid-water or to rise or
sink in it. After a time the larva changes to a pupa, in which state
it lives without eating for a few days, and then turns into a gnat. We
now proceed on our walk and come to a part of the road which has a
plantation on either side; we see a little active creature crossing
the road and at once recognise a weasel. Let us keep quite still and
silent, and we shall, I dare say, have an opportunity of watching it
for a short time. Just look at him! how nimbly the little creature
runs along; now he stops and raises his head as if listening for
something, now off he starts again; he is evidently hunting, and
probably is on the scent of a young rabbit, rat, or field-mouse. Ah!
see he has caught something on the grass near the hedge; what has he
got in his mouth? it is a small rat, I think; now he throws his
flexible body over it and gives it one or two bites. Now, Jack, run up
and catch him. Ah! he is off like a shot; you must not think to "catch
a weasel asleep." I often see these little animals in my rambles, and
always stop to witness their extraordinary activity. Weasels will
sometimes climb trees and surprise some unfortunate bird on her nest;
they are fond of eggs, and a bird's young brood are very dainty
morsels; they will also eat moles and are sometimes caught in
mole-traps. An excellent observer mentions a case of a mole-trap
having been found many years ago with two weasels in it; they had been
hunting in the mole's runs, had come in opposite directions, and "by a
curious coincidence, must have both sprung the trap at the same
instant." Weasels are generally classed as vermin and killed on all
possible occasions; I think it is often a mistake to destroy them; no
doubt they will occasionally catch a young rabbit or a leveret or suck
a few partridges' eggs, but the common food of the weasel consists of
such small animals as mice, moles, rats, small birds. In wheat or
other grain ricks, they ought to be encouraged, as they enter them
for the sake of the rats and mice they find there. I have been told by
a friend that in some parts of Wales the farmers look upon the weasel
as a friend, in consideration of the destruction it causes to mice and
rats. A gentleman living near Corwen killed a weasel, and expected to
receive the thanks of the farmer on whose land it had been killed; he
was surprised to find that the farmer was by no means grateful. In
this respect I think the Welsh farmers are wiser than the English
ones. Hawks sometimes prey upon weasels.
[Illustration: STOAT AND EGGS.]
Mr. Bell tells a story of a gentleman who was riding over his grounds,
once having seen a kite pounce upon some object on the ground and rise
with it in his talons. "In a few moments the kite began to show signs
of great uneasiness, rising rapidly in the air, or as quickly falling,
and wheeling irregularly round, whilst it was evidently trying to
force some hurtful thing from it with its feet." After a short but
sharp contest the kite fell suddenly to the ground, not far from where
the gentleman was watching the proceeding. On riding up to the spot
"pop goes the weasel," none the worse for his aërial journey, but the
kite was dead, for the weasel had eaten a hole under the wing. The
weasel makes its nest in a bank or in loosely-constructed stone walls;
three or four young ones are generally produced. Some years ago I
remember seeing a mother-weasel and three young playing about on a
bank. It was a most interesting sight. The weasel is much smaller than
the stoat, and you can tell it at once by its tail, which is entirely
red; that of the stoat has a black tip. But it is getting late and we
must hasten home.
[Illustration]
WALK III.
MAY.
To-day we will go and hunt for sticklebacks' nests; as it is calm I
think we shall have very little trouble in finding a few; a calm day
should always be chosen, because to find the nests of these little
fish it is necessary to have very sharp eyes, and to look very
closely, and you know if there is much wind the water is ruffled, and
then it is not easy to see objects in it. Let us start off, then, with
bait-can, canvass-net, and two or three large-mouthed bottles, to that
small, clear, shallow pond in Mr. Jervis's field, and see if we can
bring home a few fish and eggs. "It will be great fun," said Willy,
"and when we have caught the little fish we will bring them home and
put them in my aquarium." There are three species of sticklebacks
found in this country, the three-spined, the ten-spined, and the
fifteen-spined--this last inhabits salt water. All three build nests,
and show great care for their little brood. The nests of the
three-spined species are those most generally known, though I dare
say, if we search carefully in the drains on the moors, we shall be
successful in finding a nest of the ten-spined fellow, or tinker, as
he is sometimes called.
[Illustration: THREE-SPINED STICKLEBACK AND NEST.]
Here we are at the pond, how clear it is, and how beautifully green
are the few patches of star-wort in the water! As the grass is quite
dry we can all sit down so as to get our eyes as near to the water as
possible; never mind a few crawling ants, May; if they bite you, I
shall not feel it. Ah! do you see that little fellow with crimson
breast and eyes like emeralds? He sees us, for look how disturbed he
seems; now he darts away and hides under a weed, but soon returns to
the same spot; it is pretty certain he has a nest close by. I will put
my walking-stick into the water near him. Well, actually, the brave
little fellow is not the least frightened; see, he bunts his nose
against the stick, and is very angry; he is afraid of some danger to
his nest--this makes him so bold. Now I have made out where the nest
is, it is close under him; do you see a few small holes in the mud at
the bottom of the water? No, you don't see anything; well, then, give
me my stick and I will point them out. There now, do you see what I
mean? Yes, you do; that is all right. "Let us get the nest out of the
water," said Jack. Have patience; let us watch what the fish is doing;
see, he is busy fanning away with his tiny fins directly over the
nest. "What is he doing that for?" said Willy. The quick movements of
his fins bring fresh currents of water to the eggs or little fry that
may be within. Ah! did you see that? another fish came near the nest;
how furiously our brave "soldier" charged him; how quickly the
intruder retired! I do not think he will dare to approach so near
again for a long time, for those sharp spines on the under side of the
soldier are like a couple of bayonets and can inflict serious wounds.
Let us leave this nest for a time and try to find some more. Now that
you have once seen a nest, you will not have much difficulty in
finding others. Willy soon found another nest; "just look," he said,
"there are a lot of the tiniest little things close to the nest." Yes,
indeed, so there are; the eggs have hatched, and these are the little
fry; there is Father Stickles quite proud of his numerous family, and
quite ready to fight for them should any enemy be rash enough to
intrude, for you must know that sticklebacks, like many other fish, do
not object to eat the young fry of their neighbours, and if the parent
there--it is the male only that is the protector--were to be removed,
a hungry pack of other sticklebacks would crowd around and make sad
havoc amongst that happy little family. I remember some years ago
having once taken a father stickleback away from his nest, and, after
putting him in my collecting bottle, I sat down to watch the result.
Soon an invading army of other sticklebacks approached and attacked
the nest for the purpose of getting at the clusters of eggs it
contained. They pulled it about sadly, till I began to be sorry for
what I had done. I returned the captive-parent to the water; at first
he hardly knew where he was, and seemed confused, the result, no
doubt, of his confinement in the bottle; but he was not long in coming
to himself--he remembered his nest and the treasures it contained; he
saw that devastating army all around it, and, summoning all his
courage, the soldier-parent began an attack, now rushing at one and
now at another enemy, till he was left alone on the battle-field,
having thus gained, single-handed, a glorious victory indeed.
Well, we will take this one home, with nest and eggs it contains. You
see the nest is a mass of tangled grass roots and other weeds; now
that it is out of the water it is a shapeless mass. However, here is a
cluster of pinkish eggs, and if you look closely you will see two
little specks in each egg; so that the fish is being formed, for these
are the little thing's eyes. You can see, too, the tiny things jerking
their tails about every now and then. It is most interesting to watch
the care the parent takes of his little ones when hatched. Some few
years ago I put a male stickleback in a basin of water in charge of
his nest. When the young ones were hatched it was most curious to
notice his anxiety for their welfare. Of course young sticklebacks,
like young children, are of an inquisitive turn of mind, and apt to
play truant too occasionally; but should some little fellow wander too
far from the nest, Father Stickles hurries after him, takes the little
truant in his mouth, and spits him out right over the nest. This I
repeatedly witnessed myself, and I have no doubt you will be able to
see the same thing yourselves.
"Are not sticklebacks quarrelsome little fish?" asked Willy. Yes, they
are very fond of fighting, and they are so bold that they do not fear
any enemy, whatever his size. I once kept a small pike, about ten
inches long, in an aquarium, into which I also introduced five or six
sticklebacks. I suppose the pike did not much like the look of the
prickles or spines, for he did not eat the fish. Once I saw him make
the attempt, but after getting Master Stickles into his mouth, he
quickly threw him out again, not relishing, I suppose, the _sauce
piquante_ of the spines. The sticklebacks were really masters; they
tormented Mr. Pike dreadfully; first one would take a bite at his
tail, and then another, till the tail had a woful expression indeed;
so I turned the pike into a pool of water, and I dare say the _retail_
business has long ere this been completed.
"Are there any other kinds of fish," asked Willy, "that make nests and
take care of their young ones like the three species of sticklebacks?"
Yes, there are several kinds of fish which do so, but no other British
fresh-water kinds, I believe. There is the salt-water _Lumpsucker_, a
fish of strange form and brilliant colour--you know the pickled
specimen in my study--whose young soon after birth fix themselves to
the sides and on the back of their male parent, who sails, thus
loaded, away to deeper and more safe retreats. There are the long
pipe-fishes, the males of which possess each a singular pouch on the
tail; in this the eggs of the female are deposited and matured; the
young ones occasionally leave their strange abode, and after swimming
about for a time return to it again, reminding us in this respect of
the kangaroos and opossums amongst mammalia. There are also fish which
inhabit the rivers of Demerara which make nests and show great
attachment to their young ones, and I dare say several other fish will
be found to do the same.
[Illustration: SNAIL LEECH.]
"Oh! papa, do look here; as I was turning over this bit of flat tile I
saw in the water I found a creature something like a leech, and on
raising it up I saw what looks like a quantity of the animal's eggs,
and she seems to be sitting upon them as a hen upon her eggs." All
right, Jack; let me look, I dare say it is one of the snail-leeches.
Yes, to be sure it is, and here are the eggs which the creature
carefully covers with her body, and upon which she will sit till the
young ones are formed; the small brood, sometimes one hundred and
fifty or more in number, then attach themselves to the under surface
of the parent, and are carried about wherever she goes. There are
various species of this interesting family; all are inhabitants of
fresh water; some incubate or sit upon their eggs, others carry them
about in a hollow formed by the contraction of the sides. They have a
long tubular proboscis, by means of which they suck out the juices of
pond-snails and other water creatures. These snail-leeches move along
in the same way as the common horse-leech and the medicinal leech,
namely, by fixing the head-part on to the surface of some substance in
the water and then drawing the hinder part up to it; they then extend
the head-portion and fix it upon another spot, again drawing up the
other extremity. But the leeches, properly so called, have all red
blood; that of the snail-leeches is colourless.
"Is the leech used to bleed people when they are ill ever found in the
ponds of this country?" asked Willy. I believe it is rarely met with
now-a-days; most of the leeches used in medicine are imported from
Spain, Hungary, the south of France, and Algeria; many millions are
brought every year to this country. The medicinal leech, was, however,
once pretty common in the lakes and pools of the north of England. The
poet Wordsworth introduces us to an old leech-gatherer lamenting the
scarcity of the animals in the following lines:
"He with a smile did then his words repeat
And said that gathering leeches far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the pool where they abide.
Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay;
Yet still I persevere and find them where I may."
This sonnet was written in 1807, and when we consider the immense
numbers used in medicine, and the utter neglect of leech culture in
this country, we shall cease to wonder that native leeches are very
scarce. It is said that four only of the principal dealers in London
import every year more than seven million leeches. The annual demand
in France was estimated in 1846 to be from twenty to thirty millions;
Paris requiring three millions a year. "I should be very sorry, papa,"
said Jack, "to walk about like the old man in the lines you quoted
just now, with bare legs in the water, making them a bait for leeches.
Ugh! it is horrible to think of; they must suck a good deal of blood
from the man's legs." There is nothing like being used to a thing, and
when you remember that many people derive their whole support from the
leeches they gather, you will not wonder that they do not fear a few
leech bites. I do not suppose they lose much blood; no doubt the
gatherers pick them up pretty quickly and put them into their
collecting cases; besides the chief flow of blood from a leech-bite
occurs after the leech has been removed; the flow is encouraged by the
application of warm fomentations, but the cold water of a pool would
stop the flow of blood in the case of the man's legs. We ought to be
thankful for the existence of an animal which is of such immense
service to mankind. I suppose it was the appreciation of their value
in medicine that induced French ladies, about forty-five years ago, to
regard leeches with especial favour. Many people remember the
Cochin-China _mania_ and the sea-anemone _mania_, but, May, what will
young ladies say to the fact that in 1824 there existed in France a
_mania_ for leeches? The most enthusiastic admirer of Cochin fowls or
sea-anemones would never have thought of carrying her admiration of
her pets so high as to wear on her dress figures of these animals; but
we learn from a French writer that there might have been seen at that
period elegant ladies wearing dresses _à la Broussais_ on the trimming
of which were imitations of leeches! Broussais, you must know, was a
physician, no doubt a fashionable ladies' doctor, and a great patron
of leeches. "What," asked Willy, "are the leeches I often find in the
drains on the moors and in other places?" I have no doubt you often
find these kinds; there is a small leech, the commonest of all, called
_Nephelis_, whose little oval cocoons are so frequent on the under
sides of stones in the water and on water plants. I will soon find a
few cocoons; look here, under this bit of brick tile are five or six;
they now contain eggs, as I will show you, by slitting open the case
with my penknife. These gradually change to young leeches, which find
their way out of the cocoon through one or other of the two openings
at either end. Then there is the horse leech, and another very similar
to it, called _Aulastoma_, which means having "a mouth as wide as a
hall;" it has no English name, but we may give it one if you like, and
call it "the hall-mouthed leech." Its mouth is capable of great
stretching, and can readily take in huge earthworms nearly the size of
itself. I once witnessed a curious sight--I put a couple of
"hall-mouths" into a glass vessel of water, and introduced also a
great fat lob-worm; each leech seized the worm, the one took the head,
the other the tail. As the worm got gradually swallowed the two
leeches came to very close quarters, and at last touched. What was to
happen? would they twist and writhe about and break the worm, and so
share the "grub" between them? No; the one fellow quickly proceeded to
swallow his antagonist. I watched him carefully, and he succeeded in
getting down the red lane about an inch of his companion; but whether
he did not like the taste, or whether he had qualms of conscience for
taking such unfair advantage of a near relation, I know not; after a
few minutes the partly swallowed leech made his appearance again,
apparently none the worse for his temporary sojourn in the throat of
his companion. This leech may be seen sometimes on damp earth in
search of its favorite earthworms. I should mention also that another
worm-devouring leech has lately been found in this country; it is
known by the name of _Trocheta_, called after a French naturalist, Du
Trochet, who first described it. I dare say if we look carefully we
shall find it in this neighbourhood. All these leeches lay cocoons in
which the young are developed. Let us leave the pool and take our
little fish with us, taking care not to shake the can more than we can
help. We are now in the fields; the grass is beautifully green after
the late rain. Look at that crab tree in the hedge; did you ever see
such a magnificent mass of blossom? The hawthorn hedges are loaded
with May-buds; what a show of May there will be in a fortnight's time.
Let us gather a sprig of crab blossom and a few bits of May-bud, and
see if we cannot gather a pretty handful of wild flowers for May to
take home to mamma. Here are a few cowslips with their drooping golden
bells and delicious scent; I am afraid we shall not find enough to
make a cowslip ball. Here is cuckoo-flower, which, as old Gerarde
says, "doth flower in April and Maie, when the cuckoo doth begin her
pleasant notes without stammering." Old Gerarde, by the way, ought to
have said "_his_ pleasant notes," for it is the male bird alone that
cries "cuckoo." Its flowers are of a delicate pale purple when at the
height of its beauty; they become nearly white when on the wane.
"Ladies' smock" is another name for this harbinger of Spring;
Shakespeare speaks of it--
"The daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver white."
Here is blue speedwell and the delicately pencilled stitchwort with
its pure snow-white blossoms and delicate green leaves. It is a lovely
Spring flower and very common amongst the grass of every hedgerow. We
will pluck a few bits; how brittle the stem is. What curious ideas our
ancestors must have had; fancy calling this plant "all-bones!" Its
name, stitchwort, no doubt alludes to the plant's supposed virtue in
cases of "stitches" in the side. The following lines of Calder
Campbell on Spring flowers I am sure you will think very pretty:
"The buds are green on the Linden tree,
And flowers are bursting on the lea;
There is the daisy, so prim and white,
With its golden eye and its fringes bright;
And here is the golden buttercup,
Like a miser's chest with the gold heap'd up;
And the stitchwort with its pearly star,
Seen on the hedgebank from afar;
And there is the primrose, sweet, though wan,
And the cowslip dear to the ortolan,
That sucks its morning draught of dew
From the drooping curls of the harebell blue."
Here is more "May-flower" or marsh marigold; let us take some; it will
make a bright show in our wildflower cluster. We will put a sprig or
two of copper beech, with its rich brown leaves, which we can get from
the garden, two bits of lilac, purple and white; and though the
nosegay is common, it is still very beautiful, and mamma will put it
in her best vase and give it a place in the drawing-room for those to
admire who have hearts to admire the wild gifts of Nature.
Why, Jacko, what are you grubbing up in that ditch? "I am not grubbing
up anything," said Jacko, "but here are a lot of black creatures,
lively enough when you stir them up; I suppose they must be tadpoles."
Tadpoles, Jack, unquestionably, but are they the young of the toad or
the frog? Let me see. Well, it is not easy to say which in their
present stage, a tadpole is so like a tadpole, whether the young of
frog or toad. If you had found the eggs, which you might have done
earlier in the year, there would have been no difficulty in saying
whether they belonged to a toad or a frog; for the toad lays its black
eggs imbedded in a long clear jelly-like line, whereas the frog's eggs
are imbedded in a shapeless mass of jelly. Look at some of these
little black fellows, as black as niggers; there is a delicate fringe
on each side of the head; these are the creature's gills and answer
the same purpose as the gills in a fish; the blood circulates through
them, and is made fresh and pure by the action of the air contained in
the water. In this state the tadpole is more of a fish than a reptile;
in a short time, however, these gills will be lost and then the
tadpole can no longer breathe the air of the water, but must come to
the surface to take in air from the atmosphere. By-and-by we should
see two small tubercles appear near the root of the tail; these are
the first indications of hind-legs. Meanwhile the forelegs are budding
forth, and in time would assume their distinct forms. The changes of
the tadpole, when it is a fish, to a frog, when it becomes a reptile,
are most curious and instructive. If you have never seen the
circulation of blood in a tadpole's tail, you have something to look
forward to, and I will promise to show it you some day under the
microscope. "What kind of frog," Willy asked, "do they eat in France?
because you know the French eat frogs." The frog which the French eat
is a different species from our common frog, though I dare say our
common frog would be quite as good. The edible frog has been several
times found in this country, and Mr. Eyton says that during the time a
detachment of the French were prisoners at Wellington, they were
highly delighted to find their old friend the edible frog in the wild
moors here. I have never myself seen any other than the common frog in
this neighbourhood. You may think a frog would make a curious sort of
pet, but a gentleman once kept a frog for several years quite
domesticated. It made its appearance in an underground kitchen at
Kingston on the banks of the Thames. The servants, wonderful to say,
showed him kindness and gave him food; one would rather have expected
that they would have uttered loud shrieks of terror and fainted away
at the unexpected sight. Curiously enough, during the winter seasons,
when frogs as a rule are lying asleep at the bottom of a pool, this
frog used to come out of his hole and seek a snug place near the
kitchen fire, where he would continue to bask and enjoy himself till
the servants retired to rest. And more curious still, this frog got
remarkably fond of a favourite old cat, and used to nestle under the
warm fur of Mrs. Pussy, she in the mean time showing she did not in
the least object to Mr. Frog's presence.