CHAPTER XXXV

THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE

Once more in Eastcheap with Falstaff--and this I think will be the last

time. I thought that by getting there before the first tide was down, I

might see him come rolling up to his old haunts, to "take his ease in

his inn," nor in this, I think, shall I be disappointed. His rock will

soon be ready for him. Already he has come to it, swum about it, lain

upon it--though it is still under the waves--and then, gliding slowly

and smoothly away, has dived almost perpendicularly down, following its

seaweed-clad sides, till lost to sight. Now, this last time, he seems

come to it to stay. The way he expatiates upon it is delightful to see.

Such great yawns, such stretchings, heavings, and throwings back of the

head, with supple curvings of the neck! such luxurious anticipations of

repose to come, and oh, such sleekness, such glistening! How intensely

he enjoys this rest of his, his long intertidal sleep! He was not asleep

when he came (it would not have surprised me if he had been), but now, as

he lies at length, rolling, a little, with the waves that ripple about

him, the eyes begin to close, and even when he throws back his head and

opens his jaws, as he does often, they are shut, I think, or almost shut.

Often he scratches his chin with one of his flippers, or passes it,

indolently, all over his face.

I was right, I think, about the fore-feet. They are certainly more

elongated and fin-like than in the common seal, but, which is curious,

neither they nor his hind ones seem to me so large, in proportion to his

size, as they are in the latter species. The tail, if not lengthened,

looks broadened, and it is fringed with hair round the edges. Though

the shape is oval, it reminds me of the last joint of a lobster's tail.

Perhaps, therefore, it may be an aid to the feet in swimming. In the

fold of skin between the two hind feet, there is something which I, at

first, thought was a mussel, but am now not so sure about. In colour and

sheen it answers perfectly, but now looks more like something membranous,

hanging down on one side. There is something peculiar in two of the toes

of the left front flipper--which is the one I see. Three out of the five

claws are black, but the second and third--counting from the marginal

one which lies towards the chest, are, if it is really the claws--white

or whitish, and visible only to about half the length of the others, the

rest of them being hidden by hair or fur. These claws have a peculiar

rough, irregular appearance, different from the others, which seem smooth

and shapely. The whiskers, which are white, are both long and thick. They

are often shot out, so as to project almost straight forwards, and then

brought back to their usual position, where they droop parallel with the

line of the head and throat. The great blubbery lips from which they

spring are thick and swollen, and have a soft, cushiony appearance.

Here, no doubt, we have a very sensitive apparatus, of great use to

the animal. The eyebrows seem represented either by three, or four,

projecting hairs, like those of the whiskers, but shorter. One, however,

is greatly longer than the other two--or three.

I have now noted all I can about this creature, which, I think, must be

a female. Can it be the unmarked spouse of the great sea-leopard which

was here once, but which I have never seen again? Both were in the pool

together, and often quite near to one another, and, with the exception

of their very different skins, looked very much the same animal. Though

they did not converse, or frolic, with one another, yet I thought their

very indifference had something conjugal about it--but this may have been

imagination. But if they are really male and female of the same species,

it seems curious that there should have been so much difference in the

time that each remained under water. Of this, alone, I can be sure, that

on one occasion, only, I saw at close quarters, and for a long time, a

seal twice as large as the common one, and with a most magnificent skin,

for which, and no other, reason I have called it the sea-leopard, not at

all knowing its proper name.

The substance on the large seal's tail, which puzzled me, is, I think,

connected with the parts adjoining, and this makes me conclude it to be

a female, and that it may lately have had a young one, which, however,

I have never seen with it. I can make out no very special development

of the nose--longer and larger than that of the common seal, but I mean

_as_ a nose--so that if the name bottle-nosed is really applied to the

creature--and one Shetlander certainly used it--it must be, I think, for

the reason I have conjectured, the very round apertures of the nostrils,

which look as if they would just hold a cork. I could never have imagined

that an animal having fur--and pretty thick fur, I think--all over it,

would look so absolutely naked in the water as this seal does. I noted

down that it was, without the smallest suspicion of a doubt having

occurred to me, and I remained in entire ignorance of the real fact till

I saw it with the fur partly dry. Once, indeed, I noticed something--the

least hint of a roughness on the shoulders--as it bent its neck; but I

never really doubted, so naked did it everywhere appear. There is really

some interest in letting one's errors stand; besides that it does not

seem quite fair to suppress them.

Seals have strong preferences, not only for particular rocks, but for

particular places upon them. A large one of the common kind but just

now came out on a rock where five others were lying, and advanced

through them, in a straight line, displacing four of them. One only of

these seemed inclined to dispute his passage, and here there was some

scratching, with a good deal of hoarse snarling, almost barking--an ugly

guttural note. The large seal seemed not to wish to bring things "_à de

fâcheuses extrémités_." He would pause, with a deprecating look, but

without giving way one inch, and, very shortly, press forward again, the

other snarling and scratching as before, but gradually retiring, till at

last he gave "passage free." The fifth seal lay at right the end of the

rock, where it narrowed very much, so that there was no retreat for it,

as the large one came up--for that was just the place he wanted--except

into the sea. And there, after many snarls, and growls, and faint shows

of resistance, as, also, most melancholy looks, it had to go, the

intruder, all the while, continuing to use that deprecating, almost

apologetic, manner which he had done throughout. It was disagreeable to

him to be at feud with any of his kind, but, still more so, not to have

the place he liked; that was the idea quite transparently expressed.

There was that in his manner which seemed to say, "With the sole

exception of myself, madam, there is no one for whose rights I have a

more profound respect than for yours"; for, this ousted seal being a

small one, I put her down as a lady. Perhaps, indeed, that is why he was

so forbearing.

[Illustration: POLITE BUT INSISTENT]

Several seals are now playing a good deal in the water, flouncing and

bouncing about, making little white cauldrons, in the midst of which

their round, black heads, bobbing up and down, look like pipkins, or

crabs a-roasting. Two are sporting together in this way, which is a very

pretty sight to see. They spin and shoot about, slap each other with

their fins or tails, and, every now and again, one hears a curious burst

of sound, like subaqueous thunder; whether caused by the swirl, as they

go down, or being a growl, half-choked under the water, I do not know.

Seals seem to lead a most happy life. I have mentioned one leaping out

of the water, as it went along, in pure enjoyment--for what else could

it have been? But how different is all this to the lonely sleep of that

great thing yonder!--Falstaff--Proteus--Bottle-nose--but that last is

a calumny on a very respectable feature. There is no real contrast,

however. The common kind often sleep their leesome lane. With the play it

may be different. I have not seen the great seal sportive.

A _phoca_ has just come up with something white in its mouth, which it

is eating--a fish, no doubt. This, too, it does in a playful manner,

flinging open its jaws, and seeming to disport with it, in them. Full of

the enjoyment of life they are; and the way up, through evolution, is

to leave all this, and to acquire a multitude of cares, with gluttony,

diseases, vices, cant--with a pat on the back from a poet, or so, now and

again, making us out to be gods, and telling us to go to war. A queer

scheme, "a miserable world," as Jacques says--but not for seals. Except

through us, that is to say. We do skin them alive, which raises another

point. Not only is man--highly civilised man--the most miserable being

that exists, or has ever existed, upon this planet, but it is through

him, for the most part, that the robe of misery has been flung down upon

every other being that shares it with him. He plays, in fact, the part

of a devil in nature, but because his fellow-beings are below himself in

intelligence, he is not ashamed of this. Were he, however, to be treated

in a similar way by some species as superior, mentally, to himself, as he

is to animals, he might see the matter differently.

Does right exist at all, then, as apart from might? That which does

not rest upon some active principle in the scheme of nature, does not,

really, exist. We only fancy it, and thereby are only the more shocked

at the continual negation of what we fancy. In nature there is no law of

right, only of might, but, as man develops, he becomes, gradually, aware

that the cruel exercise of this might does not always lead to the best

results. Therefore, he exercises it more mercifully, and, in doing so,

thinks that he acts according to the law of right, as against that of

might, whereas what he really does is to carry out the law of might in a

more judicious manner. The idea that animals have rights, in regard to

us, has, for me, no meaning. How can they have what they cannot conceive

of having? If they have, so must vegetables. Whenever they enforce

something against us, it is through might that they do it, and this might

we have, in a greater degree, over them. The whole question is how, in

the highest sense, it is best to exercise it. For the idea of right,

therefore, I would substitute that of might, judiciously exercised, as

the highest ideal that is in accordance with the scheme of nature. All

improvement, I believe, in the history of mankind--with the case against

vivisection, now--can be reduced to that principle; the other is a

delusion. The only right that nature knows anything about is the right

which she has conferred on every creature, to do whatever it is strong

enough to do--and that is might. But when might is well guided, all is

well.

There is a puffin, now, within a few feet of me, with the largest fish I

have yet seen one carrying; as large as a Cornish sardine, and that is

as large as can possibly pass for one. And yet it has several smaller

ones in its bill, besides. How is this done? For, to catch the big fish,

it must have opened the beak a good deal. That one, however, is right at

the base of the bill, as though it had been caught first. This, I think,

supports my ideas as to the _modus operandi_. I do not see how so large a

fish could be caught, without letting out any little ones that had gone

before it. But if it were caught first, the beak, which can cut into the

body, to the bird's convenience, need not be opened more widely, on the

next occasion, than it would be if it held only a small fish. Did the big

fish occupy any other position in the bill than that which it does, it

would be against my theory; situated as it is, it is for it. Pray heaven,

then, I don't see another puffin with a big fish!--for it may be held

differently.

I have now seen, more _in extenso_, another young kittiwake killed by a

herring-gull. Herring-gulls are much more numerous here than even the

lesser black-backed, which is the reason, I suppose, why they seem to

stand out in this character. I do not mean to brand them specially, or,

indeed, at all. (Why cannot it be recognised that to blame any one, for

anything, is to blame the Deity?) It is gull nature, and that is not the

worst kind, after all. Though I did not see the actual commencement of

this affair, I must have all but seen it, as a party of young kittiwakes

that had been bathing near the ledges flew up all at once, and this I

have no doubt was when the attack was made. Immediately afterwards, I saw

the gull mauling and throttling one of them, in the way I have before

described. I feel sure that if it had swooped to the attack, like a hawk,

I must have seen it, and therefore I have no doubt it had been swimming

amongst the troop, at the time, for only yesterday I had noticed two

herring-gulls within a few feet of some young kittiwakes on the water,

without the latter seeming to be in the least alarmed. Probably these

gulls--whose plumage, by the way, a good deal resembles that of the

adult kittiwake--swim quietly amongst them, and, all at once, seize on

one. This poor little thing struggled, as well as it could, with its

destroyer, and, several times, got loose and began to fly away; but the

gull was after it, and caught it, again, before it had risen above a

foot from the water. As before (or nearly) it seized it by the throat,

near the head, and then kept compressing the part between its strong

mandibles. It was some minutes--perhaps five, perhaps longer--before

the kittiwake was floating, breast upwards, on the water, and being

disembowelled--a horrid sight. Yet this gull could not have been very

hungry, for he allowed another one--no doubt his partner--to approach

and eat with him. A young gull was vigorously chased away, not by him,

but by this other bird, who never let it come near. Neither was the

favoured gull really hungry, for, very soon, the body was abandoned by

both the birds, and then fell to two others, a young and an old one.

Here, too, the old bird would no doubt have driven the young one away if

its appetite had been at all keen. Probably they had all been kittiwaking

in the earlier morning, and were now fairly sated. But all animals that

live by killing--taking life in a chasing way--are sportsmen; they enjoy

the killing, that is to say, for its own sake. I can see no difference,

here, between the animal sportsman and the human one. Manifestly there

is none, for no one, I suppose, with a brain in his head, can be led

astray by all that irrelevant insistence on unessential distinctions,

with which sportsmen seek to disguise the real nature of their ignoble

pleasure--law, grace, close-time, and all the rest of it--differentiating

themselves, to their own satisfaction, not only from their fellow beasts

of prey, but from poachers, with whom they are essentially one, but for

whom a far better case can be made out than for themselves.

What makes, or helps to make, these scenes so very unpleasant, is the

prosaic and unimposing manner in which the gull goes to work. We have,

here, no swoop and rush of wings, from giddy heights, as in the falcon

tribe; there is no dilating of the plumage, no eloquent expression

of the fiercer emotions; no fine embodiment of speed, power, rage,

combined, is presented to us, nor does the victim lie, in an instant,

prostrate and bleeding beneath the claws of its destroyer. Such sights

make fine pictures. They personify, in a grand and striking way, our

ideas of the inevitable and irresistible--of fate, clothed in terror.

There is something in them of the old Greek drama, nay, of our _real_

conceptions--drawn from nature and the Old Testament--of the Deity.

But here there is nothing of all this--no impetuosity, and not enough

strength or mastery to give a sense of power, at least not of mighty

power. Structurally the gull is not specially fitted, nor, in general

appearance, does he look fitted, for the part he is acting, and this,

as is usual, gives something of a bungling appearance to his handiwork.

Above all, he lacks fire, and this makes one doubly alive to the cruelty,

which is not so disagreeably felt in witnessing the fierce thunder-bolts

of a true bird or beast of prey. There it is masked, so to speak, under

"the power and the glory," but here we see only a sordid and cold-blooded

murder, unrelieved by any feature of special interest even, much less

by any apparently ennobling element. As a spectacle, it compares very

unfavourably with that of snakes killing their prey, and equally, or

even more so, from the intellectual point of view. For with snakes we

have a special, and very marvellous, adaptation to a certain end, which

arouses admiration in a high degree in one direction, even though it

may excite disgust in another. On the whole--to me, at least, who am a

naturalist, with the curiosity proper to one strongly developed--there is

far more of wonder and instruction, than of horror, in the scene, unless,

indeed, the sufferings of the victim are prolonged, which is by no means

always the case. Some of the smaller constrictors, for instance, will

dart upon, and twist one or two of the first neck-coils round a rat, or

other small mammal, with such lightning-like speed and dexterity, and

with such tremendous strength, that death--as shown by the relaxation

of the muscles, and hanging down of the limbs--is almost instantaneous,

and the effect upon the mind comparable to that which would be produced

by the stoop of an eagle, or the spring of a tiger. We are impressed by

the speed and power, and have to admire the amazing ingenuity--one may

even say the beauty--of the structural adaptation; for, after all, one

should have an intellect, as well as a heart. This would soon pass into

more distressing sensations, were the rat long a-killing; but in the

cases to which I refer it is very soon over. The bowstring in a Turkish

harem must be a lengthy process in comparison. Thus the balance of our

emotions produces, or should produce, the exclamation, "How wonderful!"

rather than the one, "How horrible!" but with the gull and kittiwake,

only the latter is possible. Do I, then, defend the feeding of snakes

with their ordinary living prey, in captivity? Yes, I do, so long as the

conditions of nature are properly preserved. I would make that the test.

If it is not permissible to study the living habits of the living animal,

to stand as a spectator and see how nature works, then there is no such

thing as natural history, and no place for a naturalist. What naturalist

is there who would not esteem himself favoured of heaven, were he to

see an anaconda seize and strangle its prey, in the forests of South

America, or a cobra secure his, amidst the ruins of some jungle temple

in India? Now, when the same naturalist keeps either these or any other

snakes in captivity, what is the object with which he does, and which

alone can justify his doing, so? There is--there can be--but one, which

is, of course, to study its natural habits--for all others are puerile

and contemptible. Is he, then, to shrink, like one who cannot read a

tragedy, however great, from that very nature which for years, perhaps,

as a part of his daily life, he has wooed and sought after? What, then,

justifies him in doing that? Why should he look on whilst a gull, slowly

and painfully, does a poor young kittiwake to death? Yet, had I shot

that gull, to save that kittiwake, I should have done, in my opinion,

an execrable act. I should not have stopped the ways of nature, in this

respect, nor could they be stopped, except by a worse slaughter than the

one which we would prohibit. I should have officiously saved the life of

one kittiwake, and taken a gull's in exchange. But if we are justified

in watching a certain act of nature's drama, in the field or the forest,

why should we not, also, watch it under conditions which may, alone,

make it possible for us to do so? The thing is not the worse because it

is thus transported to another spot on earth; and the same snake that

in captivity eats but once in a month or so, were it at liberty, would

have a much better appetite. Therefore, when we keep snakes, and let them

eat in the way that is natural to them, and which, not to the naturalist

merely, but to every thinking man, should be full of interest, we do not

increase the sum of misery which this earth contains, but, rather, take

away from it. What we see, under these conditions, we do not create, any

more than if we came upon it by chance, during a walk. We are spectators

merely; and spectators of nature I hold that we have a right to be. If

not, the very breath of his life is stifled in the naturalist's nostrils.

He is strangled. He ceases to exist.

But there is a test and guiding path of reason and morality, here as in

other matters. Whether it is right or wrong that a snake should feed

in captivity, as it does when at large, depends, in my opinion, on the

similarity, or otherwise, of the essential conditions in each case.

In nature the victim is at some point taken unawares by the snake,

and it is only after that, if at all, that it suffers any pain of

apprehension.[18] If, therefore, we put a rat, or a guinea-pig, into a

cage so small, or so bare, that its reptile occupant is conspicuously

visible, then, if the sight is fraught with any meaning, or disagreeable

sensation, for it, we do not treat the creature fairly. We are modifying

nature, to the great increase, possibly, of its sufferings, for it may

be some time before the snake acts, and if it were not seen, or noticed,

till it did, its action might be so sudden as to leave little or no room

for previous disquietude. In some way or another, therefore, either by

the spaciousness of the cage, or the cover which it provides, or by

giving it something to eat, the prey should always be made happy and

comfortable during the interim between its being put inside, and the

attack, or first offensive movements, of the snake. It should never be

allowed to sit shivering, as it were, in the expectation of some dreadful

thing--not, that is to say, before the snake obliges it to do so. Another

most important point is this. Under nature, and in their own homes,

snakes are in possession of their full muscular and vital energies during

the time of year at which they are abroad, and take their meals. If they

are not so, also, in captivity, then we do a grave wrong to an animal in

exposing it to a death which, for this reason, is both more painful and

more protracted. As to the poisonous snakes, their poison, I suppose,

retains its strength in captivity, and if so--but not otherwise--I can

see nothing more dreadful in the death, by this means, of a rat, or

guinea-pig, in a cage, than in that of a marmot on the prairies, or of a

cavy in the swamps of a Brazilian forest. With the constrictors, however,

it is different. The smaller ones, indeed, seem to retain their full

vigour, or, if not that, something very like it, for they are capable--as

I have myself seen--of killing a rat almost instantaneously. It is

different with the huge pythons, or anacondas, which lose their force,

together with their appetite, in confinement, so that their languid and

clumsy efforts--lasting for a long period--to take the life of their

victims, may be compared to those of a drunken headsman with a blunt axe.

Manifestly, therefore, to give them such a creature as a goat to mumble,

and in such a sort of fern-case as they occupy, is a revolting thing;

but I cannot see that a flagrant abuse like this condemns the principle.

Were a combined rockery and shrubbery, as large as a good-sized garden,

accorded the python, say, and were it in some hot country, the sun of

which acted upon its system like Falstaff's "excellent sherris sack"--its

own, for instance, at the Cape, or in Durban--then I should recognise

no wrong done in introducing a goat or pig (preferably, however, a wild

animal) into its sanctum. The conditions would, in that case, be the

same, or closely similar, to those which govern under nature, nor can

I see that it matters much, in ethics, whether a snake eats its dinner

inside, or outside, a paling. If it is wrong to see it do so in the one

case, it is wrong in the other, and the contention that it is wrong in

either sanctions the principle of an officious interference in the ways

of the animal world, which, upon the whole, are better than our ways.

[Footnote 18: But this is begging the question of the so-called power of

fascination said to be possessed by some snakes, and for which, I think,

there is some evidence.]

There is a very fine line, as it seems to me, between thinking it

wrong that a snake in confinement should eat in the way that nature

has instructed it to, and wishing to exterminate snakes and various

other wild animals, because of the way they have of dining. I may well

think so, for the line, to my knowledge, has been overstepped, and

here, in these remote islands, there are alarming indications of a

campaign to be waged--with no other reason than this--against various

poor birds, who are under the same necessity as was Caliban, of eating

their dinners.[19] Some, for instance--and they advocate their views

in the local papers--wish the gulls to be shot down, on account of the

kittiwakes, whilst others would seek vengeance on the skuas for the way

in which they persecute the gulls. It seems wonderful that such grotesque

views should be held by educated people, but they seem to me to be the

same in principle with those which would deny to snakes, in captivity,

the natural use of their bodily structure. For myself, I only believe in

such a Zoological Gardens as I have tried to sketch,[20] and hope I have

foreshadowed. But if the rational study of the habits and life history of

the creatures confined there be not the _raison d'être_ of its existence,

I, at any rate, can admit no other, and I would as soon think of training

spiders not to make webs, as of habituating snakes to the eating of dead

meat. An interesting, an instructive thing, truly, to see a creature,

formed, by a long process of evolution, to kill in the most marvellous

and admirable way, tamely eat something that has already been killed!

What wretched vapidity! Like performing dogs, or monkeys, dressed in

men's clothes. Where, then, is the soul of the naturalist?

[Footnote 19: Caliban: I must eat my dinner.--_Tempest_, Act i.,

Scene 2.]

[Footnote 20: _The Old Zoo and the New._]

These views I would apply to every beast of prey in the Gardens, each

one of which, in my opinion, has a gross wrong done it in not being

allowed to do that which both its soul and body expressly commission

it to do--as though a sentient musical instrument, throbbing to play,

should never, in all its faded life, be given the opportunity of emitting

a note. The misery of such privation is far beyond that which would

attend the energy now so cruelly restrained. It is out of all proportion

to it, in my opinion. Not only snakes, then, but the lion and tiger,

too, should, by my will, kill their prey; or, if this were too costly a

proceeding--though I see not why it should be--then out with them to the

wilds they belong to! I would have those only stay, that could stay, and

be themselves. No neuters in my Gardens!

If animals have really rights--as to which, and our own, I have expressed

my views--then snakes must necessarily have their share of them. They

have a right, I maintain, upon that assumption, to eat their victuals

according to the laws of their being, and I, on my part, shall always

be pleased and interested to see them do so. I am greatly interested in

snakes, and in reptiles generally. Their structure is wonderful, their

powers are extraordinary, their ways and their habits, their whole life

history, everything about them, is fascinating. They are not stupid, as

they are erroneously supposed to be, and those who have been brought

into intimate relations with them have found them capable of great and

enduring affection.[21] For the sort of crusade, therefore, that has been

got up against these maligned creatures, I altogether repudiate it, and

I dissociate myself entirely from the many harsh, rude, unsympathetic

and unappreciative things that have been said about them. Things, of

course, are thus, or thus, according as we ourselves are, and snakes

must be uninteresting indeed to some people, since--_infandum!_--in a

place devoted, or that should be devoted, to the study of the living

habits of the living animal, it is proposed, with a shout of "Eureka!",

to substitute for the grace of motion and lithe sinuosity of the living

serpent, its motionless, stuffed, dusty, dirty, faded, black, hard,

cracky skin. A stuffed snake!--that awful production, from which all

softness and smoothness is gone, out of which every intimate character is

driven, from the very beginning, whilst the mere superficial resemblance

fades slowly, day by day, till we have, at last, something like a vast

sausage, or interminable gouty black-pudding, set hard in a bolster-like

attitude, with a crack, or repulsive sharp angle, at every one of the

stiff, graceless bendings, supposed to represent those marvellous

flexures of the real creature, which, when we see them in their living

beauty, set the mind in a glow of admiration, and are a rest, as well as

a feast, for the eye to dwell upon. This--this monstrosity--we are to

have, and to be thankful for having it, instead of the gracious glidings

and foldings, the sweet wave-like coilings and uncoilings, the subtle

entanglements, labyrinthine complexities, that, going hand in hand with

the greatest simplicity of design, and with the perfect, deft power of

unravelment, make the living body of a snake both a joy to the æsthetic,

and a wonder to the intellectual mind: instead, too, of the radiance,

lustre, sheen--the glory, both of pattern and hue--which sometimes sits

upon its glistening scales, crowning them with a beauty hardly, if at

all, inferior to that which decks the feathers of a bird, or waves on the

wings of a butterfly. All this we are to fling away for worse than "dusty

nothing," for a set of sorry deformities--worthy only of some wretched

taxidermist's shop-window--which every real naturalist ought to be

ashamed to look upon, but every one of which must cost some poor serpent

its life. The worst plaster cast, substituted for the original marble of

a Greek statue, were artistic luxury compared to this; and those, indeed,

who have no taste for art can enjoy the one, as much--or as little--as

the other. It is easy to be satisfied with stuffed snakes, when _snakes_

are of no interest to one; and that, I think, is the position here. Those

who would stand and look at the pavement, as soon as they would at a

python or rattlesnake, say to those who have the life-loving instincts

of the naturalist, "Oh, get rid of your live snakes, and have stuffed

ones instead. They're just as interesting--in fact, more so, because

you can set them up as you like." Exactly. I understand, quite, what is

meant--only to me a live snake is much more interesting than a live man

or woman, and a stuffed one almost more repugnant than a stuffed man or

woman would be. That is the little difference--the little thing that

makes all the difference. One is either a naturalist, or one is not.

[Footnote 21: See the uniquely interesting letter of Mr. Severn to

the _Times_ of July 25th, 1872, as quoted by Romanes in his _Animal

Intelligence_ (International Scientific Series), pp. 260-2.]

No, these are not my plans of reform for the Gardens, and though I

entirely condemn certain abuses in the feeding of snakes, for the

disappearance of which I am thankful, yet I cannot sympathise with

a movement which, though it has incidentally brought this about, is

founded upon a principle which I think is a false one, and calculated to

produce unhappy results in regard to the animal kingdom at large. Except

where it cannot be helped, I do not believe in altering or modifying

the laws of nature, as enforced upon animals, by one jot or one tittle.

Nature, nature, nature--that is the beginning and end of my ideas about

a collection of living wild animals. It is simpler even than Hamlet's

view--long since become obsolete--as to the office and function of the

stage--"to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature"--for here, instead

of the mirror, there should be nature herself. I would keep no animal

in respect to which proper and adequate arrangements could not be made

for it to live its own life, and, where practicable, to die its own

death. And in regard to suffering inflicted by one animal on another, I

would ask only this one question, and be governed by the answer: "such

suffering in accordance with the laws of nature, and the conditions of

things in the world at large, or is it not?" In proportion as the power

of exercising its natural functions and aptitudes is taken from it, I

pity an animal, and that is why I hate--with an intellectual quite as

much as with a humanitarian hatred--the miserable cellular confinement

inflicted upon wild creatures in a Gardens like ours. But I would never

curtail the activities of one animal in order to preserve the life or

diminish the sufferings of another, though I would rigidly guard against

those sufferings being unduly, _i.e._ artificially, increased. In my

snake-house, by the way, the question as to the propriety of presenting

the inmates with domestic animals, could hardly arise, since it would be

co-extensive with a rabbit-warren, and my gardens indeed, could I have my

real wish, would be quite as large as Rutlandshire (Yorkshire for choice).

In the principle of interference, as between one animal and another,

I have no belief. It does not appear to me to be sound or healthy in

itself, and its effect must be to check the growth of knowledge. Not, of

course, that I would wish to curtail the liberty of personal action in

this respect, any more than I would wish mine to be curtailed. He who,

in his private capacity, keeps a snake, and feeds it on fruit or meat,

has my hearty approval; but if a naturalist, seeking instruction, were to

keep it in this way, he would be largely wasting his time. That he should

be obliged, or considered morally bound, to do so, is intolerable. I lift

up my voice, and protest against such an idea. I go very far--very far

indeed, I think--in my humanitarian views in regard to animals, but as

a naturalist I must draw the line somewhere, and I draw it at officious

intermeddling, at any attempt to stop the course of nature in the animal

world; in which term, however, I do not include domestic animals.

CHAPTER XXXVI

COMPARING NOTES

Who would have thought that this same gull--the herring-gull--which

kills and devours the young kittiwakes and puffins, besides living,

habitually, on fish, crustaceans, molluscs, and any garbage it can find,

is also a fruit-eater? It is, though, since the black berries of the

stunted heather, here, are certainly its fruit, and these it eats, not

as an occasional variation of diet merely, but systematically and with

avidity. Indeed, these berries, now that they are ripe, seem to me to

be the bird's favourite food. I will now give the evidence on which

this statement is founded, and which I think will be admitted to be

conclusive. During the last week of my stay here, I began to notice, more

and more, as I walked over the ness, droppings of some bird, which were

of a dark blue, or purple, colour--in fact, a very rich and beautiful

dye. These droppings were full of the small seeds of some plant, and

upon comparing these with the seeds of the heather-berries, I found

them to be the same. They were too large and too numerous to be due to

any birds except either gulls or skuas, and as I constantly found them

over the domains of the Arctic skua, I thought at first, "_Ye_ are their

parents and original." One morning, however, whilst sitting on the rocks,

watching my dear seals, there was a down-dropping on my right trouser

(workman's cords at 6_s._ 6_d._), making a great splotch of as fine a

colouring, almost, as I have seen, and ineradicable, which makes me

think that a splendid dye might be produced from these berries--in fact,

it was produced. Looking up, at once, I saw a young gull just passing

over me, there being no other bird about--with the exception of puffins,

which made the atmosphere. Therefore I felt sure it was the gull, nor do

I think that Sherlock Holmes, with a similar clue and a sound knowledge

of puffins, would have concluded otherwise. Then, too, side by side

with these droppings, I had lately been finding pellets such as birds

habitually disgorge, formed generally of a mass of the skins and seeds

of these same berries, but sometimes containing a certain number of them

intact, or but slightly bruised. Some of these had seemed to me too large

for any bird smaller than a herring- or lesser blackbacked-gull, and

latterly I had found them mixed with the broken shells of mussels, and

other shell-fish such as gulls eat, but which skuas, I believe, do not,

or, at any rate, not as a rule.

Some of these pellets, by the way, made very curious objects. I have

taken a few as specimens, but I regret that others, still more curious,

formed of broken pieces of crab-shell, coagulated together into a

globular form, which two years ago were very plentiful on the island,

I have not this year been able to find. I would here suggest that a

collection of this kind would be both interesting and instructive. It

would form a key to the diet of every bird represented in it, but its

crowning merit--one quite beyond estimation--would be that it would not

increase the rarity or cause the extinction of a single species. For

these reasons--more particularly the last one--I do not at all anticipate

that such a collection will ever be made.

I had already concluded, therefore, that it was the gulls who ate the

heather-berries, before I began to see them walking in flocks over the

ness, and most assiduously doing so. First this was of an evening--always

herring-gulls--then at all times of the day; but the evening continued

to be the great time. Just as the kittiwakes, two years ago, used to

feed, ghost-like, about my shepherd's-hut, through the short, light

nights of June, so here, from my little sentry-box, I began now to watch

these larger ghosts, as I sat at the door both eating and cooking my

supper. From the door to the stove was a stretch--and there were many

stretches--and after one of them the shadows would be fallen, and the

ghosts hid, or fled. Then came other ghosts sometimes--all past scenes

are ghosts--"_Da hab'ich viel blasse Leichen_," etc. Oh, it was sweet,

then, in the little bunk, by the candle in its block of ship-wood, with a

rivet-hole for the socket, in the fading glow of the peat-fire, to read

the poets I had brought with me--Shakespeare, or Molière, or Heine--in

_those_ surroundings. That was the time to read--for it's all over

now--amongst the "thens," the shadows--a dream, and so is everything.

This was my last discovery--for it was one for me. Soon after I made

it I left this wild northern promontory, regretting, as I shall ever

regret, that there is no comfortable little cottage upon it where I might

stay, and be looked after--have my porridge made--for several months

at a time. To be able to walk out from as much of civilisation as this

would amount to into absolute wildness and solitude, returning into it

again at the end of each day--that is the life I appreciate. For society

there would be the good old body who cooked for me, and her husband--a

fisherman, doubtless, with his tales of the sea. With them I could have

a crack when I wished to, nor ever sigh for anything higher, since the

homely utterances and out-of-the-heart-comings of simple country folks,

especially of "the old folks, time's doting chroniclers," have for long

been all I care for in the way of conversation. All other irks me, and

my mind soon grows confused in it, so that I seem to have no ideas at

all, and indeed, have none for the time, except a panting to be gone.

Therefore, for the world of men and women here--those masks, those

flesh-enshrouded spirits, never to be properly dug up or pierced into,

give me but books, and for my own little circle of daily life, it lives

in Miss Austen's novels, nor do I ever want to enlarge it. How many

readers are there who can say this--that they have ever had one friend or

acquaintance with whose loss they could not better have put up than with

that of a favourite character in a favourite book? Somebody dies, and you

talk him or her over, comfortably, with somebody else; but fancy turning

to _Emma_, say, and finding there was no Mr. Woodhouse, or no Miss Bates!

Well, I was soon in a southward-going steamer, and here I read a paper

entitled "Observations on the Distinctions, History, and Hunting of

Seals in the Shetland Islands," by the late Dr. Laurence Edmondstone,

M.D., of Balta Sound, lent me by the present representative of the

family, and Laird of Unst, to whom I am indebted for all I have been

able to see, either of seals or sea-birds, whilst in that island.

Here was something to compare with my own observations, and my first

endeavour was to find out the specific identity of the two large seals

that I had watched with so much interest. To the best of my ability I

have described the exact appearance of each of them, as seen by me,

for hours at a time, at close quarters, and often examined through the

glasses, and I have speculated on the likelihood of the two representing

the male and female of one and the same species. This conjecture is

supported by what Dr. Edmondstone says, since he states that the sexes

of the great seal (_phoca barbata_) differ much from one another, nor

does he think that, besides the great seal and the common one (_phoca

vitulina_--as a Scotchman he would surely have approved my emendation

here), any other species is to be found around the Shetland coasts. Yet

his description of the skin-markings of both the male and female of

the great seal does not altogether accord with the appearance of the

two I saw. It is as follows:--"Male. The general colour of the body is

dark leaden, with irregular and largish patches of black; the belly

paler; the head and paws darkest." "Irregular and largish"--or rather

downright large--"patches" my sea-leopard, as I have loosely called

it, certainly had, but with regard to the rest, I should have said

that the colour which alternated with these patches, and, indeed, made

counter-patches itself, was a lightish yellow upon the belly, and that

the mottled appearance became fainter in ascending the sides, and ceased,

or was hardly noticeable, upon the back. There were, thus, two areas of

coloration merging into one another, the one very handsome, the other

not particularly so; and this was the most salient feature presented. As

I saw it, indeed, the belly, turned upwards every time its owner went

down, was a magnificent sight, in the effect of which the water, I think,

must have played an important part. Therefore, I cannot quite understand

any one who has seen it describing the animal other than in terms of

admiration, whereas here it is not even termed handsome.

But now, "put case" I had descended the cliff, that day, rifle in hand,

intending to get a shot. I should have got one very shortly after the

creature had first risen--for it gave ample opportunity--and then,

whatever had been the upshot, it would have sunk or gone down without

its lazy roll, and consequently without any exhibition of its chief

glory. In all probability I should not have seen it again, and I should,

therefore, have had nothing to record about its appearance in the water,

as seen under exceptionally favourable conditions--for I was looking down

upon it from a moderate height. In the same way, had my intention been

to shoot the _phocas_, what should I now know of their play, their fun,

their humour, their gambolling with spars, wrapping themselves round with

seaweed, polite insistence, petulant make-believe, and all the rest of

it? Instead, there would have been a shot, _et preterea nihil_--and this,

indeed, was just what it was, with me, years ago in the Hebrides. That is

what sport does for observation.

Continuing his description of the male of the great seal, Dr. Edmondstone

says, "The snout is very elongated; the nose aquiline, very similar in

profile to that of a ram; the muzzle very broad and fleshy, and the

upper lip and nose extending about three inches beyond the lower jaw,

so that in seizing its prey the animal seems obliged, as I have often

seen, to make a slight turn, in the manner of a shark." This last is

interesting in connection with the roll round on to the back, which my

sea-leopard--or rather, great seal--always made, when going down. It

shows that it is a familiar motion with this species, and therefore,

perhaps, that it might sometimes be indulged in whilst catching fish,

even though it were not quite necessary. The common seal also frequently

turns on its back in the water, so that I should think the one posture

was as familiar to it as the other. Probably, therefore it can catch

fish in both. In regard to the female of the great seal, Dr. Edmondstone

says, "The skin is of a paler colour, more or less patched with darkish

blue, and becomes _lighter_ with age. In two aged individuals, of

different sexes, the one appears a pale grey, and the other black." There

were no patches whatever on the skin of my bottle-nosed seal, as I first

called it, but a _uniform_ "pale grey" describes it pretty well. I have

called it a uniform silver, and so, indeed, it looked; but pale grey and

silver come pretty close to one another. At first I thought there was

a brownish hue, but the more I looked, the more silvery it appeared to

become.

According to Dr. Edmondstone, the male and female of the great seal

swim in a different way, for he says, "He swims with his nose on a

level with the water and the back of his head elevated; the female with

the whole head elevated, like the _vitulina_." This, as far as I can

remember, was not my experience. The large seal which I first saw, and

which I have now little doubt was the female of the _phoca barbata_,

sometimes raised the head out of the water, and she _may_ have swum with

it so, occasionally and for a short time; but her characteristic way of

_swimming_--as distinct from floating upright in the water--was with the

whole head and nose just on a level with the surface, and in one line as

nearly as possible. In this respect I did not remark any very particular

difference between the two. The male, however, uniformly rolled over as

he went down, which was not the case with the female,--and his periods of

immersion were, for some reason, during the time I saw him, only half, or

less than half, as long as hers, whilst he remained up, generally, for a

little longer.

In regard to the common seal, Dr. Edmondstone has, like myself, come

to the conclusion that it does not post sentinels. He remarks, "It has

been said" (I felt sure it had) "that when several seals are resting on

a rock, some one of their number acts as sentinel; but this result of

discipline or self-denial I cannot say I have seen--_sauve qui peut_

is, I think, rather the watchword." He goes on to say, however, "The

herring-gull is their most vigilant _vidette_ at all seasons, as he is of

every other kind of our game. The seal he loves especially to take under

his wing, and he is the most vexatious interruption to the sportsman."

Long may the herring-gull continue to protect the seal!--if he really

does so. For myself, I did not see any hint of it, though there was

plenty of opportunity; and as he allowed Mr. Thomas Edmondstone to shoot

fifty in one year, I fear he cannot be very efficacious. That he will,

sometimes, come flying down upon one, with a great clamour, as though

objecting to one's presence, and will continue to do this for a great

many times in succession, is certainly true. I have been treated in

this way several times, and in one instance the gull's persistency, and

apparent dislike, were quite remarkable. Now, if one were stalking an

animal at the time, it would be easy to construe such action into a wish

to protect it; but here no other creature was in question besides myself.

The gull's method was to fly to a considerable distance away, and then,

turning, to come sailing down upon me, uttering a loud clangorous cry as

he passed over my head. Had I been creeping or rowing towards a seal, it

is very probable that in the course of these numerous flights, to and

fro, he would have approached him more or less closely, and each time I

might have assumed that he had a special object--viz. solicitude for the

seal's safety--in doing so; whereas the times that he did not do so I

might have counted as nothing--forgetting them afterwards--or put down to

general excitement.

That either a gull or any other bird should take any interest in the

fate of a seal, is to me, I confess, almost incredible. I have read of a

curlew giving a sleeping one a flap with its wing, so as to wake it up.

I doubt the motive, and I doubt it in every other reported case of the

kind. I am quite open to conviction, but it is almost always in general

terms that one hears of these things, whereas what one wants is a number

of detailed descriptions recounting everything that took place. There is

nothing strange in birds becoming clamorous and excited at seeing a man.

No doubt, they are actuated by much the same feelings as make the smaller

ones mob a hawk, or an owl; but from that to the deliberate warning of

another species is a long step, and I have never yet read evidence to

convince me it has been made.

Speaking further of the habits of the common seal, Dr. Edmondstone says:

"Their time of ascending the rocks is when the tide begins to fall--the

water must be smooth and the wind off shore. The favourite seasons are

late in spring and early autumn." With so short an experience, perhaps,

I should be chary of forming an opinion at variance with that of one

who was "for more than twenty years engaged in hunting these animals."

But my affirmative evidence is good, as far as it goes, and what a few

individuals do for a few days--or even what one does once--is in all

probability done habitually by every member of the species. There were

two kinds of rocks on which my seals lay, viz. those which were exposed

only when the tide was more or less out, and those which were always

exposed. They came to the first whilst they were still under water, and

established themselves upon them as soon as it was possible to do so, and

remained there, as a rule, until they were floated off by the returning

tide. The second kind, as represented by one great slanting slab, which

was the favourite resort, they ascended and left at all times of the day,

without any regard whatever to the state of the tide, the obvious reason

being that the tide did not here affect their power of doing so. The rock

which one seal made such persistent, though unsuccessful, efforts to get

up on to, could only by possibility be scaled when the tide was at the

full, and that, and for a little before, whilst it was still coming in,

was precisely the time at which he attempted it. At any time, moreover,

and just as the spirit moved them, these seals would leave their rocks,

and, after remaining for some time in the water, return to them again.

Though I did not take any particular notice of the wind--it seemed always

to be blowing everywhere--yet I am pretty sure it was not the same each

day, and the seals' movements, even as it affected the sea, seemed to

bear no relation to it. On one particular day the sea was rough--nothing

excessive for these islands, but rough enough for it to be a fine sight

to see it dashing against the stacks and jutting cliffs. I did not stay

long on that day, and I was hardly any time by the pool to which the

greater number of seals--all of the common kind--resorted. I cannot now

recall whether there were any lying on the great slab of rock--probably

there were, or I should have been impressed by their absence--but, even

whilst I was there, one came up on to one of the smaller rocks, and

afterwards went off it again, all in the swirl and foam. In ascending,

this seal swam in against the backward flow of the wave, and I was struck

by the strength and ease with which it stemmed such a rush and turmoil

of water. No doubt there must be seas in which seals dare not approach

the rocks, but that they do not require it to be calm--I mean, moderately

calm--in order to ascend them, this one case which came under my

observation is sufficient to assure me. I imagine, however, that what is

not too rough for seals may be too rough for a boat, and that therefore

they are not often seen by sportsmen on the rocks, except during fair

weather.

Were the sea always rough seals would hardly ever be interfered with,

and so for their sakes I wish it were. They are absolutely harmless

creatures--though some, perhaps, would grudge them their dinner--most

interesting and lovable, incapable of defence or retaliation, and of

little value when slaughtered. The chase of babies, since it would

involve the excitement of breaking into houses, and stealing cautiously

upstairs, ought to be as interesting to sportsmen, and no doubt it would

be were public opinion in that respect to undergo a change. However,

though the carcase is, as I have said--for I have been told so here--of

little value, I suppose it is of some, so that a poor fisherman has, at

least, an understandable motive in putting them to death, nor can _he_

be expected to feel an interest in anything that really is of interest

concerning them. But that an educated man should ever wish to kill seals,

being not moved to it by gain, but as a pleasure merely, and from a love

of glory, seems to me now like a madness, though as it is a madness which

I have myself felt,[22] I ought to be able to understand it. Yet I doubt

if I can now--so curiously has something gone out of me and something

else come into me.

[Footnote 22: Praised be the Lord, however, I have fired but one shot,

and that missed.]

One other remark of Dr. Edmondstone in relation to the rock-seeking

habits of seals is at variance with what I observed in my two little

bays. He says, "The favourite rocks on which they rest are almost always

observed to have deep water round them, are comparatively clear from

seaweed, and under water at full tide." Now, the favourite rock on which

my seals rested rose to, perhaps, a dozen feet above high tide before

it became unscalable, and, to that height, it was regularly ascended by

some or other of its occupants. In other respects it conformed to the

requirements stated, for the water round it was fairly deep, and above

the high-water line--where alone the seals lay--it was entirely bare of

seaweed. Other rocks, however, which were habitually resorted to, were

by no means so, and many of these were right in shore, where the water

was anything but deep, though sufficiently so for the seals to swim at

once, when they cast themselves off. The rock where the great seal always

lay was a mass of seaweed, and I have mentioned having seen the common

ones both play with, and help pull themselves up by, the long brown

kind. I cannot help thinking, therefore, that seals do not exercise much

choice in any of these respects, but are governed more by circumstances,

selecting rocks which, on the whole, they find convenient, and which may

be now of one kind, and now another. As, however, rocks which are never

submerged are, when accessible at all, always so, these ought, one would

think, to possess a great advantage, supposing the seals to have no

prejudices in this respect. I do not, myself, believe that they have,

and the seal-rocks which I passed in the steamer were such as to support

this view.

Putting everything together, I believe that, both in respect to the rocks

on which they lie, and the times at which they lie on them, the one and

only law by which seals are governed is the law of practicability. It is

a very good law, and I wish I had always been governed by it too--I mean

beforehand.

INDEX

A

Ambition, a strange, 323

Animals, Memory of, as compared with that of man, 107, 108

---- Wild, not appreciated, 138, 139

---- Philistine nomenclature of, 152-4

---- Sensuous pleasures of, underestimated, 252

---- Happiness of, as compared with that of savages, 256, 257

---- Choice of, in regard to one another a necessity, 281-3

---- Cries of, false value often attached to, 306, 307

---- Minds of some people in strange state about, 307

---- Wild, hearts of, seldom explored, 323

---- Have no rights, 348

Appeal against God, an, 333

Arctic Skua, Persecution of terns by, 9-13;

not always successful in chase of, 10

---- Suggested origin of piracy practised by, 11, 12

---- Threatened attack of, rarely made, 10;

possible reason of this, 10, 11

---- Does not hawk at fish, 9

---- Baffled by rock-pipit, 10, 160

---- Will leave fish that drops on the sea, 11, 12

---- May be pirate or highwayman, 13;

possible process of differentiation in this respect, 13

---- Loves brigandage, 14; and plays at it, 14

---- Wild cry of, 14, 161, 162

---- Grace, beauty, etc., of, 14

---- Variety of coloration exhibited by, 15-25

---- Description of fifteen differently coloured forms of, 15-20

---- Is multi-morphic rather than dimorphic, 21

---- Young resembles the great skua in plumage, 22;

and also in wanting the lance-like feathers of the tail, 22, 23;

these facts probably due to sexual selection, 22-5

---- Might knock one's hat off under certain circumstances, 94, 151

---- Puffin robbed by, 133

---- Its absurd prenomen, 152

---- Bathing habits of, 160, 161

---- Chases ravens, 191;

its different cry whilst so doing, 191

---- Black guillemot robbed by, 302, 303

---- Piracies of, may be turned to account by herring-gull, 302, 303

B

Bacon in frying-pan, companionship afforded by, 3

Bathing, Possible passing of, into an antic in some aquatic birds,

199-201

Bats, Aerial performances of, 134;

compared with those of swifts, 134

Birds, Possible loss and reacquirement of the power of flight by some, 7

---- "Of a feather flock together," 7

---- Segregation of the sexes of, in, 7

---- British, process of change and differentiation of, in, 44;

advantage of collecting evidence in regard to this, 44, 46

---- Possible origin of some antics in, 70, 71

---- Sometimes very rude, 173

---- Want of uniformity in the actions of, 174

Black Guillemot, Breeds in the Shetlands, 57

---- Its habit of carrying fish for long time in bill, 68

---- Manner of swallowing fish of, 69

---- Fighting of the, 69;

may be passing into a sport, 70, 71;

will fight with fish in the bill, 71, 72

---- Wings only used by, in diving, 72

---- Luminous appearance of, under water, 72, 204

---- Manner of feeding young of, 72, 73

---- Cry of, 128

---- Coloration of buccal cavity of, 128, 129;

suggested explanation of, 129-31

---- Eats seaweed, 203

---- Wing-patches of, conspicuous under water, 203

---- Carries one fish at a time, 301, 302

---- Robbed by arctic skua, 302

Black-headed Gull, Relations of, with peewit, 10

Books, The hundred best, 110

Brodby, Mrs., Missed as a landlady, 190, 191

---- Pious hope in regard to, 191

C

Cheltenham Corporation, Ducks done away with by the, at Pittville, 65-7

Christianity, Mock trials as between, and paganism, by prejudiced

Christian authors, 256

Collector, the, Does more harm than the sportsman, 144, 145

---- Goal of the, extermination, 145

---- The biggest-record Thug, 145

---- His love of Nature, 145

Common Gull, is like common sense, 13

---- Makes best resistance to arctic skua, 13, 14

---- A young Christian nationality, 14

Common Seals, seen leaping out of the water, 57, 58

---- Luminous appearance of, under water, 175, 204

---- Manner of swimming under water of, 175

---- A splendid sight of, 213

---- As seen under different circumstances, 213, 214

---- Unorthodox attitudes of, 214, 226, 227

---- Odd actions of, 214, 215, 227

---- Animals of a finely-touched spirit, 215

---- Playing with a spar, 216

---- Practical joking of, 217, 322

---- A dormitory of, 225, 226

---- Difference in size, etc., of, 229

---- Sentinels not posted by, 229, 304, 305, 306

---- Resemblance of, to a man, 230

---- At the chosen rock, 231, 259

---- Bed-times of, not governed by the tide, 234

---- Perpendicular attitude of, in water, 257, 297, 298

---- Length of submersions of, 257, 258

---- Habit of opening mouth of, 258, 259

---- Sleep floating in the sea, 259, 260;

and under the water, 297, 298

---- Makes the sea a rock, 260

---- A great sleeper, 260, 298

---- Sporting of, with seaweed, 321, 322

---- Should be called _phoca Antiquarius_, 325

---- Liking shown for special rocks by, 330-33, 345;

or particular places upon them, 345, 346

---- Use made of seaweed by, 332

---- Activity of, in water, 335, 336;

but surpassed by that of the _otariidæ_, 337-41;

difficulty of understanding this and parallel cases, 336-41

---- Sporting together of, in sea, 346, 347

---- Eat fish in a playful manner, 347

---- Author's observations on, collated with those of the late Dr.

Edmondstone, 373-9

---- Are governed by the law of practicability, 379

Crouching, Habit of, in birds may have preceded that of flying, 6, 7;

or have been resorted to owing to weak flight, 7

---- Habit of, in young skuas, terns, gulls, peewits, etc., 197;

and in stone-curlew through life, as supposed, 6, 197

Cuckoo, Brilliancy of mouth-cavity in, 131, 132;

suggested explanation of this through natural selection, 131, 132

---- Actions of young in nest when disturbed, 132

Curlew, A complaining shadow, 1

D

Darwin, Quoted in reference to lizards on the Galapagos Islands, 52, 53;

and in reference to sexual selection, 272-4;

anticipated by Swift, 33

Dean Swift, Anticipation of Darwin by, 33

Death, The dance of, encouraged by science, 148

Ducks at the Pittville Gardens in Cheltenham, 64, 65

E

Eagles, A pair of, foiled by pigeons, 158, 159

Eider Duck, Female and young alone seen in late July, 26

---- Family parties of, 26

---- Feed sometimes on seaweed, 26-8, 77, 78

---- Bobbing, etc., of, 28, 29

---- Mother and chicks feeding on the rocks, 75-7

---- Feed on mussels, 77, 78

---- Process of differentiation in feeding habits of, 78, 80

---- Luminous appearance of, under water, 204

Emotions, Our noblest tainted in their origin, 185, 186

Evil may be the path of advance, 207, 208

Expulsion, Law of, amongst birds, 7;

referred to by Gilbert White, 7

Extinction, The scientific charm of, 148

Eye, Accuracy of the ornithological, when helped by a measuring-tape, 34,

35

F

Falstaff in Eastcheap, 343

Fulmar Petrel, Appearance, etc., of young, 88

---- Actions, etc., of, 88, 89

---- Lethargy of, 89, 90

---- Difference between young and old, 90, 91

---- Domestic habits of, 91-3

---- Young: how fed, 92, 93

---- Different coloration of buccal cavity in young and old, 93;

suggested explanation of this, 93

---- Strange error made by author in regard to, 114-16

---- Nuptial note of, 116, 117

---- Unangelic propensities of, 117, 118

---- Marvellous powers of flight of, 118-21

---- A "delicate Ariel," 118

---- Nuptial antics of, 125, 126, 202

---- Æsthetic coloration of buccal cavity in, 126, 127;

suggested explanation of, 129, 131

---- Power of ejecting excrement to a distance possessed by, 165, 166

---- Statement made by author in regard to, checked, 201

---- Family parties of, 201

G

Great Black-backed Gull, Swoop of, 2

---- Will attack arctic skua, 13

---- Probably not victimized by arctic skua, 13

Great Seal, Perpendicular attitude in water of, 217, 234

---- Length of submersions of, 235, 285

---- Mistake of observation made by author in regard to, 235, 236, 328

---- Appearance of, etc., in or out of water, 236, 324, 328, 329, 343-5

---- More modified in relation to aquatic life than common seal, 236

---- Called "the bottle-nosed seal" locally, 234, 237

---- Sideway roll of, in going down, 238

---- Splendid appearance of, under water, 285, 286

---- Beauty of skin of, 285, 370;

probably due to sexual selection, 286

---- Falstaffian proportions of, 324, 325

---- Consummate happiness of, 325

---- Different appearance of fur of, when wet or dry, 325, 326

---- Leaving his rock, 325, 326, 329

---- In Eastcheap, 342

---- His beloved sleep, 342

---- Author's observations on, collated with those of the late Dr.

Edmondstone, 364-73

Great Skua becomes less savage as the young grow older, 93, 94, 151, 197

---- Young, the, an absurd figure, 150, 151

---- Less interesting than the arctic skua, 152;

and wants the wild cry of the latter, 152

---- Is difficult to watch, 152, 161

---- Escape of a young, _à la_ cuttlefish, 154

---- Herrings decapitated by, 195;

if not by gulls in first instance, 196

---- Plumage of, in chick, 196

---- Cry of chick to parents, 197

---- Crouching habit of chick, 197

Guillemots, Apparent habit of constantly drinking sea-water, 62

---- Will fight carrying fish in bill, 72

---- Remain on breeding-ledges after departure of chicks, 95-7, 211, 212;

or return there after having flown down with them, 96, 97

---- Actions of, as of feeding young, after the young have gone, 97-9;

possible explanation of this, 99, 103, 290, 291, 295;

and of similar hallucinations in man, 101-3

---- Young, how fed, 104, 140, 162, 163, 173, 209;

colouring, etc., of, 104, 105, 141, 174;

how do they reach the sea?, 105, 106, 139, 166, 174, 175, 232, 233;

not quite immovable, 108, 109, 142, 188, 287-9

---- Nest-building, instinct in, possible last trace of, 109

---- Appearance of, on the ledges, 111, 112

---- Nuptial note of, 113, 114;

strange error made by author in regard to, 114, 115;

how explained, 115-17

---- _Jodeling_, etc., of, 113, 114, 162-4, 172, 177, 178, 187, 211,

288-90

---- "Hărrāh," note of, 187, 188

---- Flight of, a mystery, 133, 134

---- Marital relations of, 139, 140

---- Young, received under the parental wing, 141, 142, 162-6, 172-4,

176, 212

---- Receptive power of chick, 162, 163, 210

---- White mark round eye of, 164;

represented in plain birds by depression in feathers, 164;

both may be due to sexual selection, 164

---- Funny attitude of young, 164, 165, 212

---- A distinguished bird amongst, 165

---- Picture of maternal love presented by, 142

---- Power of ejecting excrement to a distance, of, 165

---- Possible relation of plumage to chick, in old bird, 166

---- Depression under wings of, possibly in relation to chick, 166

---- Manner of diving of, 168

---- A chick gone, 176, 177

---- A family scene amongst, 177, 178, 209

---- Chicks, the, petted, etc., by birds not their parents, 179, 287,

291, 295, 296;

suggested explanation of this, 183, 184, 290, 291, 295

---- Possible process of social evolution taking place amongst, on

analogy of insects, 179-83

---- Plaintive cry of young, 189, 287;

supposed origin of the name, 189

---- Eye of, 209, 210

---- Buccal cavity of grown, lemon-coloured, 210;

but merely flesh-coloured in chick, 210;

suggested explanation of this, 210, 211

---- Strong constitution of young, 232, 233;

reflections aroused by, 232, 233

---- Chick, dangerous journey of, 287, 288

---- Bring in one fish at a time, 301

---- Fish: how held by, 301

Gulls, Perpetual canopy formed by, 2

---- Noise made by, 2;

sounds softly, 2

---- "Ow" note of, 2;

language evolved out of, 2

---- Discordant laugh of, 2

---- Author troubled by hostility of, 4

---- Odd sensation caused by, 4

---- Seem to make all the world, 4

---- Special sanctuary of, 4, 5

---- Take place of men, 5

---- House of Commons suggested by cries of, 5

---- Clinging to breeding-place of, 5, 6, 95

---- One's presence resented by, 4

---- Young have habit of crouching, 6;

but adults do not crouch, 6

---- Young, habit of associating together of, 7;

consequent migration of, from island, 7;

suggested cause of above, 8

---- In a mirage, 36

---- Drink fresh water, 62;

and may also drink salt, 62

---- Herrings possibly decapitated by, 196

---- Not interested in the fate of seals, 373, 375

Gun, A, Dries up all poetry in a man's heart, 193

Gunpowder, Invention of, deplored by the author, 193

H

Heine, His views on sympathy in relation to civilization, 293, 294

Herring Gull may profit by piracies of the arctic skua, 302, 303

---- Young kittiwakes killed by, 303, 304, 314-16, 349-51;

inferior, as a spectacle, to that of snakes killing their prey, 351-4

---- Young puffin dropped by, on the rocks, 308, 309

---- Shakespearean disquisition, a, suggested by, 308-12

---- A fruit-eater, 365-8

---- Beautiful dye, a, produced by, 365, 366

---- Pellets disgorged by, interesting objects, 366, 367;

and would make an instructive collection, 366, 367

---- Not interested in the fate of seals, 373, 375

Humanitarian, the, Flies in the face of the deity, 250;

a difficulty shirked by, 250

Hunter, Mrs., Her pleasant establishment at Balta Sound, 86

Hunting Instinct, the, Natural but unjustifiable in civilized man, 333-5;

will cease when the animals have, 335

I

Iceland, The kind of paradise it may become, 146

Innocence, a trumpery thing, 207

Intersexual Selection, Arguments for a process of, 261-80

Island, the Author's, Lonely yet populous, 1, 2, 3

---- Remarkable caves in, 47-50

K

Kittiwakes, Young, assembling together of, 7, 8, 201

---- Appearance of, on the ledges, 112

---- Cry of, 112

---- Appearance, etc., of young, 122

---- Young, how fed, 122, 123

---- Bright colouring of mouth cavity in, 123;

is less bright in the young, 123;

suggested meaning of this, 124-31

---- Mistake made by author in regard to, 175

---- Bathing of, resembles an antic, 199

---- Dove-like appearance of young, 122, 201

L

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker carries many insects at a time to young, 302

Life, Civilized, dark clouds that hang over, 254-5

Lumbago, Disquisition provoked by, 205-8

M

Man, Comparative happiness of savage and civilized, 252-6;

impartial judgment as to, not obtainable, 255, 256

---- Plays part of devil in nature, 347, 348

---- Civilized, the most miserable being that exists or has ever existed,

and the great purveyor of misery to other beings, 347, 348

Might judiciously exercised the highest ideal in accordance with the

scheme of nature, 348, 349

Muscovy Ducks, Habit of drinking dew of, 62, 63

---- In the Pittville Gardens, strange appearance of, 63, 64

Museums, Competitive roar for slaughter of, 148

N

Natural History, Full of unverified statements, 308

---- Museum at Kensington, The, Its family slaughter groups, 145-7;

the kind of people who enjoy them, 145-7

Naturalist, The real, not a man for this world, 194

---- Should be a Boswell, 323

Nature, The godlessness of, 137

---- Ruthlessness of, the effect of witnessing, 317-21

O

Optimist, the, His faculty of finding comfort in uncomfortable things,

175

Ostrich, A ratite bird, 198;

the scientific exigencies of such a position, 198

Oyster Catcher. _See_ Sea-pie

P

_Palace of Truth_, Mr. W. S. Gilbert's, As played and conceived of at

Cheltenham, 243 (footnote)

Peewits, Habit of crouching in young, 6;

which is not shared by adult, 6

---- Relations of, with black-headed gull, 10

Peregrine Falcon, An exaggerated estimate of, 156

---- Foiled by a partridge, 156;

and by pigeons, 156, 157;

and by a rook, 158

Pheasants, Refusal of a cock to rise, 44

---- Unsportsmanlike conduct of, in Norfolk, 44

Pigeons, in a mirage, 36

---- How seen to advantage, 157

---- Coo of, terror of, 158

---- Success of, against peregrine falcon, 157, 158;

and eagles, 158, 159

Poet, the modern Christian, His devices for speaking the truth, 228, 229

Porpoise, A large kind of, 83, 84

Professors, The blood-prayer of, 148

Puffins, Pursued by arctic skua, 133

---- Rapid flight of, 133

---- Picked remains of, frequent, 136, 242

---- Enemies of, 136, 137

---- Great difference between young and old, 150

---- Note of, 154, 155

---- Impassive spectators, 169

---- Lover-like actions of, 240

---- Playfulness of, 240

---- Sympathy shown by, 240, 241

---- Mischances that may befall, 242

---- Tendency of, to fight in mêlées, 242

---- Marvellous beak of, 243;

resembling a false nose used in amateur performance of _The Palace of

Truth_ at Cheltenham, 243 (footnote)

---- Legs of, how coloured, 243, 244

---- New sensation given by, 244

---- Enormous numbers of, 244, 245

---- Are somewhat silent, 245

---- Nuptial display of, 246

---- Male, a large-hearted bird, 246

---- Buccal cavity of, a bright yellow, 246, 247;

is probably a sexual adornment, 247, 248

---- Eye of, almost as marked a feature as the beak, 299

---- Young, dropped by herring-gull on to rocks, 308, 309

---- Many fish brought in at a time by, 300;

theory as to how this is done, 300, 301, 349

---- Is strongly ritualistic, 313

---- A lecture delivered to, 336-41

R

Railways, Absence of, add a charm to Sterne and Miss Austen, 193, 194

---- The destroyers of man and nature, 193

Raven, Mobbed by arctic skuas, 191, 205

---- None, this time, on the island, 191

---- Battue of, in progress throughout the Shetlands, 191

---- Very wary, 194

---- Odd action of, in air, 194

---- Flight of, not majestic, 205

Razorbill, Apparent habit of constantly drinking sea-water, of, 62

---- Bright colouring of buccal cavity, of, 127;

suggested explanation of, 129-31

---- Nuptial note and actions of, 127

Red-throated Diver, A ripple in shape of bird, 59

---- Resembles both a grebe and a guillemot, 59

---- Neck of, very beautiful, 59, 60

---- Dives like a grebe, 60, 61

---- Apparent habit of continually drinking, of, 61

Right does not exist apart from might, 348, 349

Rock Pipit, Arctic skua baffled by a, 10, 160

S

Science, Hypocritical cloak of, 147

---- Continual slaughter "for the sake of," 147

Scott, Sir Walter, Description of hawk chasing heron in _The

Betrothed_, by, 9, 10

Sea Birds, Their apparent habit of constantly drinking sea-water, 62;

possible explanation of this, 62

---- Power of ejecting excrement to a distance, possessed by, 165, 166

Sea-pie, Quavering note of, 1

---- Doctrine of metempsychosis in relation to, 37

---- Bill of, how explained, 37

---- A sleepy bird, 38

---- Feeding habits of, 218-22

---- May become a swimmer, 220

---- Has some notes like the stone-curlew's, 222, 223

---- Gatherings of, on beach, 222, 223

---- Love-pipings of, 223, 224

---- Aerial nuptial antic of, 224

Sexual Selection, Nature and origin of prejudice in regard to, 280-3

Shags, Use feet, alone, in diving, 50

---- Disturbed in caverns, 50

---- Unwillingness of young, to re-enter water, 50, 51;

suggested explanation of this, 51-4;

possible analogy in conduct of lizards of the Galapagos Islands, 52-4

---- Conduct of a female alarmed for her young, 54

---- Brilliant colouring of buccal cavity in, 55, 130, 131;

but less brilliant in the young bird, 56;

above facts explained by sexual selection, 55, 56, 129-31

---- Apparent habit of continually drinking, of, 61

---- Flying out of caves in the morning, 82-6

---- Bellowing of, 84, 85

---- Nuptial actions of, 129-31

---- Young fed by parents after leaving nest, 148, 149

---- Looking like heraldic eagle, 169, 170

---- Young, how fed, 173

---- Manner of diving, of, 173

Shark, Luminous appearance of, under water, 205

Sheep, A, and lamb, picturesque morning call from, 138

---- A little harm done by, 138

Sheepskins in Manchuria _versus_ sealskins in England, 337

Shetlands, Sunrise in the, 81, 82

---- Summer in the, 167, 168

---- Night out in the, possibility of, 167

---- The wind in the, less interesting than in England, 170, 171

---- Persecution of ravens, etc., by landowners in the, 191-3

---- Effect of climate in, on paraffin, 232

---- More lonely than "the great lonely veldt," 257

Sin, the way of, may be better than that of virtue, 206, 207

Snakes, Killing of prey in captivity by, defended by author, 354-64

Solitude, Sense of not diminished by animal life, except through human

associations, 3;

above opinion reversed, 297

---- True, should imply no fleas, 257

Sport, What it does for observation, 370, 371

Sportsmen, An unobservant race, 142, 143

---- Their one channel of observation, 143;

and way of observing in this, 143

---- Actuating motive of, to kill, 143

---- Little of the naturalist in, 144

---- Hasty inferences made by, 304, 305

---- Interested opinions of, 304, 307

---- Their intellectual competitions with geese, etc., 305

---- Compliments paid to themselves by, 307

---- Statements of, accepted as though from heaven, 307

Stone Curlew, Habit of crouching of, 6

---- Possible origin of some antics of, 71

Sunrise, In the Shetlands, 81, 82

Swifts, Flight of, compared with that of bats, 134

Sympathy, The nature and origin of, 184, 185, 291, 292

---- In relation to civilization, 292-5;

Heine's views as to, 293, 294

T

Terns, Breeding-ground of, on the island, 1, 9

---- Canopy formed by, 1

---- Sharp cry of, 1

---- A "shrieking sisterhood," 2

---- One's presence resented by, 4

---- Crouching habit of young, 6

---- Special relations of, with arctic skua, 9-13;

suggested origin of these, 11

---- Not often actually attacked by arctic skua, 11;

some more persevering against than others, 11, 43;

suggested explanation of this, 11, 43

---- Possible ruse of, against arctic skua, 11, 12

---- Preferred as quarry by arctic skua, 13

---- Excitement in colony of, on young being interfered with, 31-34

---- Anger of, compared with that of insects, 31, 32

---- Yahoo-like habit of, 32, 33

---- Fiercer in the Shetlands than in southern England, 34

---- In a mirage, 35, 36

---- Mobbing hares, 32, 33

---- Slight difference between common, and arctic, 34, 35

---- Assaults made on author in defence of young, 39, 41, 42;

beak only used in such assaults, by, 39, 41, 42;

differ, in this respect, from skuas and gulls, 39-41

---- Young encouraged to fly by, colony of, 42;

and may need such encouragement, 42, 43

---- Lethargy of young, 42, 43

---- The common made roseate terns, 85

---- Communal interest of, in young, 179

---- Possible process of social evolution in, on analogy of

insects, 179-83

Theory, A soil in which facts grow, 79, 80

---- Voltaire's simile in regard to, 90

U

United Kingdom, the, Strange summer contained in, 167

---- Not mistaken by author, for paradise, 167

W

Water Wagtail, Carries many insects to young, at a time, 302

Whales, Small, off the Shetlands, 84

---- Seen by author, leaping out of the sea, 84, 85

Wind, the, Difference of, in England and the Shetlands, 170, 171, 190

Wren, a, By the wild seashore, 238-40

Z

Zoologist of the future, the, 323

PLYMOUTH

WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.

PRINTERS

* * * * *

Transcriber Notes

Illustrations moved so as to avoid splitting paragraphs. The missing

end of quote on page 363 was assumed to belong after the question mark.

Although the text uses Edmondston once and Edmondstone 11 times, research

shows that the last name for all should be the former. The original usage

was left unchanged.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Bird Watcher in the Shetlands, by Edmund Selous

The Bird Watcher in the Shetlands, with Some Notes on Seals—and Digressions · 第 35 / 35 章