the larvæ of mosquitoes. Every one has noticed that these larvæ when
not disturbed rest at the surface, but when frightened drop slowly
downward in the water, since they are heavier than this medium, yet
they rest at the surface, by means of a rosette of thin plates at
the tail end of the body. These act as the hairs on the legs of the
Water-strider, and make use of the tension of the surface film which
holds the larva up, as the surface tension held up the Water-strider.
On the next to the last segment of the Wiggler there is a large
breathing tube which reaches to the surface when the larva is floating.
The food of the larva is said to be decaying vegetable matter. The
short pupal period is also passed floating, but it now has two
breathing tubes near the points of attachment of the wings. When ready
to transform it crawls out onto the pupal skin and dries its wings
preparatory to flight.
Our common mosquitoes belong to three genera, _Culex_, _Anopheles_ and
_Corethra_. The annoyance caused by the irritation resulting from the
bite is not understood, as no poison gland has been found. The females
only of our mosquitoes are known to suck blood. From researches made
during the past few years it is now definitely known that the bite of
certain kinds of mosquitoes is really dangerous. This is not on account
of the actual puncture made by the insect, but due to the presence of
the germs of malaria, which are introduced into the wound from the
infected insect. The only mosquitoes which are definitely known to
transmit this malarial parasite to man belong to the genus _Anopheles_.
The malarial parasite thus has two hosts, mosquitoes belonging to the
genus _Anopheles_ and man. This parasite infests the stomach walls
of the mosquito, where it rapidly multiplies and becomes mature; then
escaping from this locality, accumulates in the salivary glands. From
this reservoir they are easily transferred to their human host at the
time of sucking blood.
These aquatic insects which we have discussed so briefly are only a
few samples from a very large number whose history and habits are full
of interest to those who find the study of animal life a fascinating
subject.
INSECT MUSIC.
The peculiar sounds made by different insects, though usually known as
insect music, are probably far from musical in the opinions of those
who listen to it with dread. Many superstitious people have firm belief
in dire warnings concerning certain calamities which "insect music"
portends.
For instance we are told that the "deathwatch" is a popular name
applied to certain beetles which bore into the walls and floors of
old houses. They make a ticking sound by standing on their hind legs
and knocking their heads against the wood quickly and forcibly. Many
superstitions have been entertained respecting the noise produced by
these insects, which is sometimes imagined to be a warning of death.
There are many insects, however, which produce sound decidedly musical;
and many such instances have been enumerated. Everybody is familiar
with the music of the katydid. Here it is the male that has the voice.
At the base of each wing cover is a thin membraneous plate. He elevates
the wing covers, and rubs the two plates together. If you could rub
your shoulder blades together you could imitate the operation very
nicely.
Certain grasshoppers make a sound when flying that is like a watchman's
rattle--clacketty-clack, very rapidly repeated. There are also some
moths and butterflies which have voices.
The "death's-head" moth makes a noise when frightened that strikingly
resembles the crying of a young baby. How it is produced is not known,
though volumes have been written on the subject.
The "mourning cloak" butterfly--a dark species with a light border in
its wings--makes a cry of alarm by rubbing its wings together.
The katydids, crickets, grasshoppers and other musical insects are all
exaggerated in the tropics, assuming giant form. Thus their cries are
proportionately louder.
There is an East Indian cicada which makes a remarkably loud noise. It
is called by the natives "dundub," which means drum. From this name
comes that of the genus which is known as _Dundubia_. This is one of
the few scientific terms from Sanskrit.
Entomologists have succeeded in recording the cries of many insects by
the ordinary system of musical notation. But this method does not show
the actual pitch, which is usually several octaves above the staff. It
merely serves to express the musical intervals.
It is known with reasonable certainty that many insects have voices
so highly pitched that they cannot be heard with the human ear. One
evidence of this fact is that some people can distinguish cries of
insects which are not audible to others. But even if there are a few
notes lost to many of us, there is enough insect music to prove vastly
entertaining to those who take interest in the insect world, and the
peculiar methods of its inhabitants in communicating with each other.
DOMESTIC ANIMALS
CATTLE.
Cattle is a term applied to the whole of that large variety of domestic
animals known as the Bovine family. Naturalists have divided them into
two primary groups--the hump-backed cattle (_Bos Indicus_) and the
straight-backed cattle (_Bos Taurus_).
Some naturalists claim that these two groups are really only different
varieties of the same species, while others claim that the marked
differences in structure, habits and voice are such as would indicate a
specific distinction.
The hump-backed variety is chiefly found in India and Africa, while the
straight-backed cattle are common in all parts of the globe. Cattle
seem to have been domesticated as far back as written and traditional
history will take us.
The remains of the cow and the ox have been found as a part of the
many evidences of the oldest civilizations, their bones having been
discovered in the same caves with stone axes and stone knives. That
the cow contributed immensely to the earlier civilizations cannot be
doubted. Besides contributing to the daily bill of fare she became the
common beast of burden, drawing the rudest of plows, sleds and carts,
and in fact she does the same to-day to some extent in many parts of
the world.
The common straight-backed cattle, as we know them in our country,
remain an important factor even in this stage of civilization; while
they are not generally used as beasts of burden, they furnish millions
of gallons of milk and numberless pounds of butter, and finally
sacrificing their entire bodies to the use of man. The principal part
of the body goes to the meat block to become steaks, roasts and soup
bones; the refuse flesh going to the manufacture of soaps largely; the
hide furnishes most of our leather, the bones become fertilizer, the
hoofs and horns make our glue, and lastly, the hair makes it possible
for us to live in plastered houses.
In olden times a man's wealth seems to have been measured by the
number of cattle he owned, and during the same period cattle were
used as money, or a medium of exchange. Later when metal coinage came
into use in Greece the image of an ox was stamped on the new money in
commemoration of the old system. The same idea has left its impression
on the languages of Europe as seen in the Latin word _pecunia_ and the
English word "pecuniary," both words being derived from _pecus_ cattle.
America is the great cattle-producing country of the world. In the
early settlement of this country the immense tracts of uncultivated
grass lands were well adapted to cattle-raising, and many were the
large herds to be seen west of the Ohio river on the great prairies of
the country once known as the Northwest Territory. But as men came with
their plows the herds were gradually driven farther and farther west.
Cattle are very interesting animals when we once get acquainted with
them.
The writer, when a boy, had some experience herding cattle on an
Illinois prairie. In this particular herd of which I wish to speak
there were about seven hundred head and it required two of us and also
two good shepherd dogs to keep them in control during the early part
of the herding season or until we got them "broken in," as the old
herders used to say. These cattle had been wintered on various farms
surrounding the herd grounds, so when they were brought together in
the spring there were about fifteen different clans to contend with,
each clan having its recognized leader. Now, these leaders are always
a source of trouble to the herder, and especially is this true for the
first few weeks after bringing them together.
[Illustration: BRITTANY.
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY
A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO]
The whole herd would be grazing and moving slowly along, seemingly
perfectly satisfied, when suddenly one of those leaders would raise
his head very high in the air and act as if he saw something very
interesting a mile away and would immediately start off in a rapid
walk, bellowing two or three times to notify his followers that he was
out for a stroll. Then the whole of his clan would follow him at once.
They would not go far until the leader would set the pace in a rapid
trot.
But we always had the remedy at hand for these fellows and immediately
one of us would mount a horse and taking a dog make a straight run for
the leader and begin to give him the "business end" of a long, heavy
whip, the horse being trained to this sort of performance would keep
close to this leader, allowing us to pour on the whip until he was so
completely run down and fagged out generally that he would never aspire
to that office again; in fact, he would lose all interest in _cattle
politics_, not even making a good follower thereafter. But other
leaders would spring up and have to be discouraged in the same manner.
While these clan leaders gave us more or less trouble during the whole
of the season and made it necessary to exercise vigilance, it did not
have in it that source of danger and excitement that we experienced
in a general stampede. We had two of these during this season, one
of which turned out rather seriously and furnished enough excitement
to have satisfied the most reckless boy in our vicinity. It was some
time the last of the month of May. We had "rounded up" our cattle
in the evening as usual, putting them in the "pound" for the night.
Our cabin was near the "pound" and situated on higher ground, so we
could overlook the entire herd. This "pound" had an area of about ten
acres, being enclosed by a very strong wooden fence. It was some time
after midnight when we were awakened by the approach of a terrific
thunderstorm. We knew the danger of a stampede during these storms and
immediately got up, dressed ourselves in our rubber clothes, went to
the stable a few yards away and saddled our horses. We were then ready
for any emergency. When the lightning flashed we could see the cattle
walking in a circle round and round the "pound." Soon the rain began
to pour down in torrents and the storm was on in earnest. It had not
been raining long when with a blinding flash the lightning struck a
tree just outside the "pound." The shock was so great that it knocked
down a number of the cattle, which we saw regaining their feet during
the next flash of lightning. With one mighty surge the cattle mashed
down the entire fence on one side of the "pound" and the stampede was
on. We had our horses out in a "jiffy" and calling the dogs we started
in hot pursuit. All we dared to do was "to follow." There were quite a
number of trees in the path they took for about eighty rods from the
pound. The almost continuous lightning enabled us to follow the cattle.
They were running at full speed and it sounded like distant thunder and
fairly shook the earth. They ran about a mile when they came to a small
lake, which caused them to separate into two distinct herds. I followed
one herd and my companion the other. After running about four miles and
through a large farm they finally stopped in some heavy timber. I had
not long to wait until daylight, and the storm being over I "rounded
up" all I could find and started them back toward the herd grounds,
arriving at the cabin about 11 A. M., my companion arriving about the
same time. After a hurried meal we went out to look for injured cattle
and to make a count. We found two dead ones near the pound, which had
evidently lost their lives by running against trees. It was several
days before we were able to locate all the stragglers.
MISCELLANY
HOMING PIGEON.
Sleep little pigeon and fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes.
Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging,
Swinging the nest where her little one lies.
In through the window a moonbeam comes,
Little gold moonbeam with misty wings,
All silently creeping it asks is he sleeping,
Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings?
But sleep little pigeon and fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon with mournful eyes.
Am I not singing? See I am swinging,
Swinging the nest where my darling lies.
--Eugene Field.
One day a carrier pigeon tapped at the window of Mrs. Nansen's home at
Christiania. Instantly the window was opened, and the wife of the great
Arctic explorer in another moment covered the little messenger with
kisses and caresses. The carrier pigeon had been away from the cottage
thirty long months, but had not forgotten the way home. It brought a
note from Nansen, stating that all was going well with his expedition
in the polar regions. Nansen had fastened a message to the bird and
turned it loose. The frail courier darted out into the Arctic air, flew
like an arrow over perhaps a thousand miles of frozen waste, and then
over another thousand miles of ocean and plain and forest, to enter the
window of its waiting mistress and deliver the message which she had
been awaiting so anxiously. We boast of human sagacity and endurance,
but this loving carrier pigeon, after an absence of thirty months,
accomplished a feat so wonderful that we can only give ourselves up to
wonder and admiration.
Utilization of the homing instinct of the domesticated varieties of
the Blue Rock pigeon, the _columba livia_, by employing the birds as
messengers for physicians living at some distance from their patients,
is comparatively new and is the latest evidence of the value of these
birds. A few doctors have made the experiment, and it only remains to
prove the facility with which the pigeons can be employed in order to
determine whether they are likely to come into general use for this
purpose.
The importance of establishing pigeon service for busy, overworked
country doctors is strongly urged in favor of the plan, and it is
agreed that there is no other such efficient or speedy means of
carrying messages.
The carrier dove, which is the emblem of peace, though used in these
times for carrying war messages, obeys the one governing impulse of its
small heart when, released at a distance from its mate and its nest, it
turns with marvelous fidelity to its home cote. With no compass except
that home-seeking instinct, no reliance except in the exquisitely
adjusted beat of its wings, it soars upward until its keen eyesight and
quick perceptions give certainty of direction; then, at a splendid pace
of 1,400 yards in a minute, it speeds on its journey home.
MATED BIRDS THE BEST.
Once a male bird has regularly mated he will fly back to his duties
as a husband and father as fast as he can. These duties are serious
and practical, for the male bird bears his full share in sitting upon
the eggs and in feeding the nestlings when hatched, for which purpose
both cock and hen possess special faculties and functions. The homing
tendency acts best when it is entirely concentrated. For example,
it has been found that a mated pair will not fly home together with
anything like proper certainty. They stop and dally by the way; they
behave like holiday people who have "got somebody to mind the babies."
In order to have trustworthy messengers for war or peace the pigeons
must not be bachelors nor loafers nor be flown with associates; they
must be the respectable mated birds with establishments, so that in
employing them for war messengers one actually presses domestic virtue,
as well as love and parental instinct, into the service of the military.
But even the peaceful pigeon can be sometimes pugnacious on his own
account, and a jealous fantail, or tumbler, or Antwerp, or Jacobin
often will conduct himself like a game cock, though painters and poets
from time immemorial have agreed to regard this bird as the natural
emblem of gentleness and peace. It is the accepted token of the Holy
Spirit, "which descended in the form of a dove." All literatures are
full of this thought.
PIGEONS IN LEGEND AND STORY.
The Arabs have a story that when an angel of Allah offered to King
Solomon the water of immortality in a ruby cup it was a dove that
dissuaded him from drinking it, and thereby from living mournfully to
survive those whom he loved in an earth grown desolate and lonely. And
it was because of the maternal courage of a dove which had followed
its captive nestlings all the way to the prophet's house that Mohammed
instituted that merciful decree which still prevails all over the East,
and which forbids true believers to touch or even to taste of the flesh
of any creature which has not been "hallalled"; that is to say, over
which, while alive, the prayer of pardonable bloodshed has not been
uttered.
The birds, gentle and stainless, which Sappho sang of, harnessed to the
golden chariot of the "Splendor-throned Queen, immortal Aphrodite,"
in some cases have been converted into messengers of death and ruin.
Some hold that this is better than to see them immolated for prizes
by unsportsmanlike gunners at Monte Carlo and such places, for the
birds remain unaware of their new duties, and carry messages from a
beleaguered fortress, or the call for aid from a sinking warship, or
the state of a suffering patient, alike carelessly and ignorantly,
as if the missives tied to their feet were perfumed messages sent by
lovers.
USED BY PHYSICIANS.
In the early '90s Dr. S. Weir Mitchell of Philadelphia used pigeons
in the case of a patient ill of nerve fatigue, several miles from his
home, thus accomplishing two purposes--a daily report and the salutary
effect of leading the worn mind of the patient into a new channel.
Dr. Philip Arnold, in a recent medical journal, tells of receiving
messages from his patients in the country every day, in addition to
his daily visits to them. His plan usually is to leave a pigeon the
day he makes a visit, and direct that the pigeon be liberated the
next day with such a message as he requires. With a little care in
the instruction of the nurse, he is informed of the condition of the
patient before he starts to make his next visit. In a country practice
this is important, since it enables the physician to judge what will be
needed for his patient in the next twenty-four hours, and the country
physician usually is his own druggist.
Then, again, country doctors cannot often make more than one call on
a patient in twenty-four hours, and by an aerial messenger service
they can get practically the same information as the doctors in the
city or hospital practice by leaving two pigeons and getting morning
and evening reports. The country doctor often is called from one
patient to other persons sick in the neighborhood. This will make him
late in getting back, and it is a great convenience if he can send
this information home, practically with the same speed as the city
practitioner through the medium of the telephone service.
TELLS WHAT KIND TO USE.
Dr. Arnold suggests that physicians wishing to take this matter up in
earnest first of all should purchase only the best of Belgian homing
pigeons, one or two pairs well mated. No reliance can be placed on
young birds newly purchased for message carriers. Young birds, to be of
service, must have been hatched in the home loft. The old birds secured
for breeding must not be given their liberty until they have hatched
one or two broods. The youngsters at a certain age can be trained.
A young pigeon begins his racing life when he is ten weeks old, with
graduated journeys, varying from two to fifty and seventy miles in
length. At the age of six months he is usually fed on a diet of beans
and maple peas for a few months of hard racing work, the season
commencing in April. The length of the races varies from 50 or 100 to
as much as 600 miles. There is not competition between rival fanciers
and great excitement about the results.
Winter is the pigeon's time of retirement. He is not compelled to
race, for racing is only profitable when wind is fair and the air is
absolutely clear. Whatever the wonderful power that guides the pigeon
home over hundreds of miles of unknown country, it is certain that
sight plays an important part, for the least sign of haziness in the
air will put the pigeon in the position of a derelict ship.
A bird of good quality costs from $5 to $20 when one month old, and a
practiced racer one year old generally brings from $25 to $100.
When using these birds for messenger service the message is written
upon the thinnest rice paper, rolled up and deposited in an aluminum
holder, which is fastened to the bird's leg. This holder is in the
shape of a capsule, with a small band which is easily attached
to the leg of the bird. Professor Marion of the Naval Academy at
Annapolis invented the holder, which is water tight when the lid is
on, and weighs but eight grains. One of the most remarkable incidents
illustrating the wonderful memory of a homing pigeon was that of a bird
made a prisoner during the Franco-Prussian war. This pigeon after being
in captivity for ten years immediately returned to its home after being
liberated from confinement in a foreign country.
The hardships which these birds will unflinchingly face in returning
home can hardly be appreciated by those who are not familiar with them.
Birds so badly shot or torn by hawks as to be rendered almost helpless,
notwithstanding their injuries will struggle onward until at last
their home is reached. From extreme distances, such as points beyond
500 miles, the birds are at a great disadvantage, inasmuch as they are
thereby forced to forage for themselves, something they are not trained
to do. As a result they are unreliable and slow when called upon for
such work. There are birds which have homed 614 miles air line the day
after, and there are a few pigeons in this country that have covered
more than 1,000 miles, air line, the extreme distance covered being
1,212 miles.
It seems really impossible to extinguish the homing instinct in a good
pigeon. A story is told of a French carrier pigeon which was captured
by the German soldiers during the siege of Paris in 1870. The bird was
being carried in a balloon from Paris to some point in the country,
whence it was expected to return to Paris with a message. It was taken
to the German headquarters and presented to the commander, Prince
Frederick Charles, who sent it to his mother in Germany. Here it was
placed in a splendid roomy aviary and carefully fed and nourished; but,
although it was kept here, living in the lap of royal luxury for four
years, the French pigeon did not forget its fatherland.
At the end of that time the aviary was left open one day. The pigeon
flew out, mounted high in the air, flew about for a moment, as if to
find the points of the compass and started in a straight line for
Paris. Ten days afterward it beat its wings against the entrance to
its old loft in the Boulevard de Clichy. There it was recognized and
its case being brought to public attention it was honored as a patriot
returned from foreign captivity. It remained at the Paris Jardin
d'Acclimatation until it died in 1878.