That is an interesting question, and one about which naturalists have
bothered their brains a good deal. It is an animal of which there are
several species existing throughout Africa; and of which the celebrated
traveller Bruce,--who, everybody thought, _lied_ so largely, but about
whom conceited ignorance has since changed its opinion,--first gave an
account.
It differs from the foxes in several respects, but the most remarkable
difference is found in the form of the eye. In the true foxes the pupil
is linear or elliptical, while that of the fennec is round, thus showing
the difference of habit--for the foxes are in reality _nocturnal_
animals, while the fennecs are _diurnal_. Some species of foxes,
however, are twilight prowlers, and one or two of the fennecs are also
crepuscular.
It is, therefore, scarce possible to draw a line of demarcation between
the two. The fennecs, however, have been formed into a separate genus,
termed _Megalotis_, from the extreme size of their ears. It is to be
hoped that the question is thus settled that has so much bothered the
closet-naturalists; who, taking their ideas from the anatomy of the
fennec, have classed it according to their several fancies; one making
it a dog, another a cat, a third a fox, a fourth a civet, a fifth a
hyena, and a sixth placing it among the galagos!
Let us call it a "fennec," or diurnal fox, and say farther that although
there are several species of _true foxes_ in Africa, and several of
_jackal-foxes_, there are also several of fennecs. Three are well
known. The fennec of Bruce, (_Megalotis zerda_), first described by
that traveller as seen by him in Abyssinia, but also indigenous to South
Africa; the "zabora," (_Megalotis famelicus_), a native of Nubia and
Kordofan, and supposed to be the animal represented on Egyptian temples,
which has been taken for the figure of the jackal; and the "caama
fennec," (_Megalotis caama_).
A fourth species, "Lalande's zerda," (_Megalotis Lalandii_), has been
"hooked out" of this genus, and made to form one of itself,
(_Agriodus_), not because its habits in anywise differ from the
_Megalotides_, but because it chances to differ slightly from them in
the form and arrangement of its "ivories."
Now of all these fennecs the one which was passing before the eyes of
Hans was the "caama," the smallest of the whole tribe either of fennecs
or foxes.
Crouching just like a fox, now trotting nimbly a few paces, now halting
and squatting close to the ground, as though fearful of being observed,
the little creature passed on.
What was it after? What prey was it in pursuit of?
On watching it for a few moments, Hans saw to his great surprise that it
was after the ostriches!
It was going the same way they had gone, its sharp snout set towards,
and its eyes evidently bent upon, them. Whenever they stopped it did
the same, squatting down as it did so, as if to avoid their observation;
and when they moved on, it also trotted forward, halting at intervals
behind stones and bushes and earnestly regarding the birds in advance.
Beyond a doubt it was trailing them! But what could this little
creature want with the ostriches? Certainly not to attack them, though
it was following after them just as a fox would a covey of partridges.
It could not be that, however; as a kick from the mighty leg of one of
these birds would have hoisted the fennec fifty yards over the plain,
like a ball from a cricket-bat.
No; it could not be following them with hostile intentions,--puny pigmy
that it appeared beside the big camel-birds!
For what, then, was it trailing them? Of course it was not running on
the scent, but the view. On their track it certainly was, and as
certainly was it "dogging" them. For what purpose?
This was just what the naturalist Hans wished to know; and he remained
closely observing the movements of this miniature "microscopic" fox.
Talking of a microscope reminds me that Hans at that moment took out of
his pocket a telescope,--a small one, which he habitually carried. This
he did, because, in a few minutes, the ostriches were very distant over
the plain, and their pursuer the fennec was no longer visible to the
naked eye. With the glass, however, Hans could still make it out, and
could see that it was manoeuvring just as when it passed him. All at
once the ostriches came to a stop; and, after an apparent consultation
among themselves, the cock squatted down, and his long legs were no
longer seen. He was flat down upon his breast, and even through his
small pocket-glass Hans could tell that his body looked more spread and
bulky than before. Was he covering eggs? Was there a nest? The
appearance of the ground about the sitting bird favoured that belief.
There was a slight prominence around the body of the bird having the
semblance of a bird's nest; but Hans knew that the nest of the ostrich
is of very simple construction,--a mere cavity scratched out in the
sand, and scarce to be recognised from any great distance. Several
white objects lying around the spot led Hans to the conclusion that
there _was_ a nest. These objects did not seem larger than
"jack-stones," but Hans, calculating well the distance that separated
them from his eye, believed them to be ostrich-eggs, and therefore as
large as paving-stones. Hans knew that around the nest of the ostrich
scattered eggs are usually found--said by some to be there laid as a
deposit for the food of the expected progeny during their early days of
chickhood!
The two hens, after moving about awhile also squatted down, but they
appeared only to kneel with their great legs doubled under them; whereas
the cock sat low and flat upon his breast. This only more convinced
Hans that there was a nest, and that the cock ostrich was taking his
turn of duty, while the hens were simply gone to roost in the usual
manner.
That the cock covered the eggs was nothing surprising to the young
naturalist, who knew that it is the habit of the male of these birds to
do so, and that he usually takes his turn during the night, when it is
colder, and his greater size and strength are required to keep the eggs
warm, as well as to protect the nest from prowling beasts of prey. One
or other of the hens would very likely relieve him about daybreak. Of
course both the hens were mothers in prospective of the future brood, as
the cock ostrich is a terrible "Mormon;" and frequently does the
polygamous on a large scale, having sometimes as many as a dozen wives.
Our old fellow was rather a moderate Mormon, as he appeared to be
satisfied with two--though bigamy, no doubt, is quite as sinful as
polygamy.
Hans concluded that there was a nest, and full of eggs in process of
being hatched. It was no evidence against this, that the birds had been
away from it together. The day had been a very warm one, and during the
middle part of the day--particularly in hot weather--the ostrich wanders
away from its eggs, leaving the sun to do its work for it. The hotter
the country, the less does the ostrich require to "set;" and in parts of
Africa within the torrid zone where the heat reaches a very high degree,
the ostrich has very little to do with the hatching of its eggs, but
buries them in the burning sand, and makes the sun its "incubator!"
But what had become of our fennec--poor little fellow?
So asked Hans of himself, as he swept the plain with his telescope.
While watching the late movements of the birds, he had altogether
forgotten the beast.
After a time he was just able to make out its small whitish body
stretched upon the ground, under the lee of a little bush, and
apparently resolved upon passing the night there. Had there been any
hole near, it would have preferred lodging in that--for the fennec is an
animal that makes its home in a "burrow."
Night had suddenly come on, and the darkness prevented Hans from
observing farther the movements of either beast or bird; so putting up
his glass, he rejoined his companions in the camp.