ANIMALS OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF EGA
Scarlet-faced Monkeys — Parauacú Monkey — Owl-faced Night-apes —
Marmosets — Jupurá — Bats — Birds — Cuvier’s Toucan — Curl-crested
Toucan — Insects — Pendulous Cocoons — Foraging Ants — Blind Ants.
As may have been gathered from the remarks already made, the
neighbourhood of Ega was a fine field for a Natural History collector.
With the exception of what could be learned from the few specimens
brought home, after transient visits by Spix and Martius and the Count
de Castelnau, whose acquisitions have been deposited in the public
museums of Munich and Paris, very little was known in Europe of the
animal tenants of this region; the collections that I had the
opportunity of making and sending home attracted, therefore,
considerable attention. Indeed, the name of my favourite village has
become quite a household word amongst a numerous class of Naturalists,
not only in England but abroad, in consequence of the very large number
of new species (upwards of 3000) which they have had to describe, with
the locality “Ega” attached to them. The discovery of new species,
however, forms but a small item in the interest belonging to the study
of the living creation. The structure, habits, instincts, and
geographical distribution of some of the oldest-known forms supply
inexhaustible materials for reflection. The few remarks I have to make
on the animals of Ega will relate to the mammals, birds, and insects,
and will sometimes apply to the productions of the whole Upper Amazons
region. We will begin with the monkeys, the most interesting, next to
man, of all animals.
_Scarlet-faced Monkeys._—Early one sunny morning, in the year 1855, I
saw in the streets of Ega a number of Indians, carrying on their
shoulders down to the port, to be embarked on the Upper Amazons
steamer, a large cage made of strong lianas, some twelve feet in length
and five in height, containing a dozen monkeys of the most grotesque
appearance. Their bodies (about eighteen inches in height, exclusive of
limbs) were clothed from neck to tail with very long, straight, and
shining whitish hair; their heads were nearly bald, owing to the very
short crop of thin grey hairs, and their faces glowed with the most
vivid scarlet hue. As a finish to their striking physiognomy, they had
bushy whiskers of a sandy colour, meeting under the chin, and
reddish-yellow eyes. These red-faced apes belonged to a species called
by the Indians Uakarí, which is peculiar to the Ega district, and the
cage with its contents was being sent as a present by Senhor
Chrysostomo, the Director of Indians of the Japura, to one of the
Government officials at Rio Janeiro, in acknowledgment of having been
made colonel of the new National Guard. They had been obtained with
great difficulty in the forests which cover the lowlands near the
principal mouth of the Japura, about thirty miles from Ega. It was the
first time I had seen this most curious of all the South American
monkeys, and one that appears to have escaped the notice of Spix and
Martius. I afterwards made a journey to the district inhabited by it,
but did not then succeed in obtaining specimens; before leaving the
country, however, I acquired two individuals, one of which lived in my
house for several weeks.
Scarlet-faced and Parauacú Monkeys.
The scarlet-faced monkey belongs, in all essential points of structure,
to the same family (Cebidæ) as the rest of the large-sized American
species; but it differs from all its relatives in having only the
rudiment of a tail, a member which reaches in some allied kinds the
highest grade of development known in the order. It was so unusual to
see a nearly tailless monkey from America, that naturalists thought,
when the first specimens arrived in Europe, that the member had been
shortened artificially. Nevertheless, the Uakarí is not quite isolated
from its related species of the same family, several other kinds, also
found on the Amazons, forming a graduated passage between the extreme
forms as regards the tail. The appendage reaches its perfection in
those genera (the Howlers, the Lagothrix and the Spider monkeys) in
which it presents on its under-surface near the tip a naked palm, which
makes it sensitive and useful as a fifth hand in climbing. In the rest
of the genera of Cebidæ (seven in number, containing thirty-eight
species), the tail is weaker in structure, entirely covered with hair,
and of little or no service in climbing, a few species nearly related
to our Uakarí having it much shorter than usual. All the Cebidæ, both
long-tailed and short-tailed, are equally dwellers in trees. The
scarlet-faced monkey lives in forests, which are inundated during great
part of the year, and is never known to descend to the ground; the
shortness of its tail is, therefore, no sign of terrestrial habits, as
it is in the Macaques and Baboons of the Old World. It differs a little
from the typical Cebidæ in its teeth, the incisors being oblique and,
in the upper jaw, converging, so as to leave a gap between the
outermost and the canine teeth. Like all the rest of its family, it
differs from the monkeys of the Old World, and from man, in having an
additional grinding-tooth (premolar) in each side of both jaws, making
the complete set thirty-six instead of thirty-two in number.
The white Uakarí (Brachyurus calvus), seems to be found in no other
part of America than the district just mentioned, namely, the banks of
the Japura, near its principal mouth; and even there it is confined, as
far I could learn, to the western side of the river. It lives in small
troops amongst the crowns of the lofty trees, subsisting on fruits of
various kinds. Hunters say it is pretty nimble in its motions, but is
not much given to leaping, preferring to run up and down the larger
boughs in travelling from tree to tree. The mother, as in other species
of the monkey order, carries her young on her back. Individuals are
obtained alive by shooting them with the blow-pipe and arrows tipped
with diluted Urarí poison. They run a considerable distance after being
pierced, and it requires an experienced hunter to track them. He is
considered the most expert who can keep pace with a wounded one, and
catch it in his arms when it falls exhausted. A pinch of salt, the
antidote to the poison, is then put in its mouth, and the creature
revives. The species is rare, even in the limited district which it
inhabits. Senhor Chrysostomo sent six of his most skilful Indians, who
were absent three weeks before they obtained the twelve specimens which
formed his unique and princely gift. When an independent hunter obtains
one, a very high price (thirty to forty milreis[1]) is asked, these
monkeys being in great demand for presents to persons of influence down
the river.
[1] Three pounds seven shillings to four pounds thirteen shillings.
Adult Uakarís, caught in the way just described, very rarely become
tame. They are peevish and sulky, resisting all attempts to coax them,
and biting anyone who ventures within reach. They have no particular
cry, even when in their native woods; in captivity they are quite
silent. In the course of a few days or weeks, if not very carefully
attended to, they fall into a listless condition, refuse food, and die.
Many of them succumb to a disease which I suppose from the symptoms to
be inflammation of the chest or lungs. The one which I kept as a pet
died of this disorder after I had had it about three weeks. It lost its
appetite in a very few days, although kept in an airy verandah; its
coat, which was originally long, smooth, and glossy, became dingy and
ragged like that of the specimens seen in museums, and the bright
scarlet colour of its face changed to a duller hue. This colour, in
health, is spread over the features up to the roots of the hair on the
forehead and temples, and down to the neck, including the flabby cheeks
which hang down below the jaws. The animal, in this condition, looks at
a short distance as though some one had laid a thick coat of red paint
on its countenance. The death of my pet was slow; during the last
twenty-four hours it lay prostrate, breathing quickly, its chest
strongly heaving; the colour of its face became gradually paler, but
was still red when it expired. As the hue did not quite disappear until
two or three hours after the animal was quite dead, I judged that it
was not exclusively due to the blood, but partly to a pigment beneath
the skin which would probably retain its colour a short time after the
circulation had ceased.
After seeing much of the morose disposition of the Uakarí, I was not a
little surprised one day at a friend’s house to find an extremely
lively and familiar individual of this species. It ran from an inner
chamber straight towards me after I had sat down on a chair, climbed my
legs and nestled in my lap, turning round and looking up with the usual
monkey’s grin, after it had made itself comfortable. It was a young
animal which had been taken when its mother was shot with a poisoned
arrow; its teeth were incomplete, and the face was pale and mottled,
the glowing scarlet hue not supervening in these animals before mature
age; it had also a few long black hairs on the eyebrows and lips. The
frisky little fellow had been reared in the house amongst the children,
and allowed to run about freely, and take its meals with the rest of
the household. There are few animals which the Brazilians of these
villages have not succeeded in taming. I have even seen young jaguars
running loose about a house, and treated as pets. The animals that I
had rarely became familiar, however long they might remain in my
possession, a circumstance due no doubt to their being kept always tied
up.
The Uakarí is one of the many species of animals which are classified
by the Brazilians as “mortál,” or of delicate constitution, in
contradistinction to those which are “duro,” or hardy. A large
proportion of the specimens sent from Ega die before arriving at Pará,
and scarcely one in a dozen succeeds in reaching Rio Janeiro alive. The
difficulty it has of accommodating itself to changed conditions
probably has some connection with the very limited range or confined
sphere of life of the species in its natural state, its native home
being an area of swampy woods, not more than about sixty square miles
in extent, although no permanent barrier exists to check its dispersal,
except towards the south, over a much wider space. When I descended the
river in 1859, we had with us a tame adult Uakarí, which was allowed to
ramble about the vessel, a large schooner. When we reached the mouth of
the Rio Negro, we had to wait four days whilst the custom-house
officials at Barra, ten miles distant, made out the passports for our
crew, and during this time the schooner lay close to the shore, with
its bowsprit secured to the trees on the bank. Well, one morning,
scarlet-face was missing, having made his escape into the forest. Two
men were sent in search of him, but returned after several hours’
absence without having caught sight of the runaway. We gave up the
monkey for lost, until the following day, when he re-appeared on the
skirts of the forest, and marched quietly down the bowsprit to his
usual place on deck. He had evidently found the forests of the Rio
Negro very different from those of the delta lands of the Japura, and
preferred captivity to freedom in a place that was so uncongenial to
him.
_The Parauacú Monkey._—Another Ega monkey, nearly related to the
Uakarís, is the Parauacú (Pithecia hirsuta), a timid inoffensive
creature with a long bear-like coat of harsh speckled-grey hair. The
long fur hangs over the head, half concealing the pleasing diminutive
face, and clothes also the tail to the tip, which member is well
developed, being eighteen inches in length, or longer than the body.
The Parauacú is found on the “terra firma” lands of the north shore of
the Solimoens from Tunantins to Peru. It exists also on the south side
of the river, namely, on the banks of the Teffé, but there under a
changed form, which differs a little from its type in colours. This
form has been described by Dr. Gray as a distinct species, under the
name of Pithecia albicans. The Parauacú is also a very delicate animal,
rarely living many weeks in captivity; but any one who succeeds in
keeping it alive for a month or two, gains by it a most affectionate
pet. One of the specimens of Pithecia albicans now in the British
Museum was, when living, the property of a young Frenchman, a neighbour
of mine at Ega. It became so tame in the course of a few weeks that it
followed him about the streets like a dog. My friend was a tailor, and
the little pet used to spend the greater part of the day seated on his
shoulder, whilst he was at work on his board. Nevertheless, it showed
great dislike to strangers, and was not on good terms with any other
member of my friend’s household than himself. I saw no monkey that
showed so strong a personal attachment as this gentle, timid, silent,
little creature. The eager and passionate Cebi seem to take the lead of
all the South American monkeys in intelligence and docility, and the
Coaitá has perhaps the most gentle and impressible disposition; but the
Parauacú, although a dull, cheerless animal, excels all in this quality
of capability of attachment to individuals of our own species. It is
not wanting, however, in intelligence as well as moral goodness, proof
of which was furnished one day by an act of our little pet. My
neighbour had quitted his house in the morning without taking Parauacú
with him, and the little creature having missed its friend, and
concluded, as it seemed, that he would be sure to come to me, both
being in the habit of paying me a daily visit together, came straight
to my dwelling, taking a short cut over gardens, trees, and thickets,
instead of going the roundabout way of the street. It had never done
this before, and we knew the route it had taken only from a neighbour
having watched its movements. On arriving at my house and not finding
its master, it climbed to the top of my table, and sat with an air of
quiet resignation waiting for him. Shortly afterwards my friend
entered, and the gladdened pet then jumped to its usual perch on his
shoulder.
_Owl-faced Night Apes._—A third interesting genus of monkeys found near
Ega, are the Nyctipitheci, or night apes, called Ei-á by the Indians.
Of these I found two species, closely related to each other but
nevertheless quite distinct, as both inhabit the same forests, namely,
those of the higher and drier lands, without mingling with each other
or intercrossing. They sleep all day long in hollow trees, and come
forth to prey on insects and eat fruits only in the night. They are of
small size, the body being about a foot long, and the tail fourteen
inches, and are thickly clothed with soft grey and brown fur, similar
in substance to that of the rabbit. Their physiognomy reminds one of an
owl, or tiger-cat: the face is round and encircled by a ruff of whitish
fur; the muzzle is not at all prominent; the mouth and chin are small;
the ears are very short, scarcely appearing above the hair of the head;
and the eyes are large and yellowish in colour, imparting the staring
expression of nocturnal animals of prey. The forehead is whitish, and
decorated with three black stripes, which in one of the species
(Nyctipithecus trivirgatus) continue to the crown; and in the other (N.
felinus), meet on the top of the forehead. N. trivirgatus was first
described by Humboldt, who discovered it on the banks of the
Cassiquiare, near the head waters of the Rio Negro.
I kept a pet animal of the N. trivirgatus for many months, a young one
having been given to me by an Indian _compadre_, as a present from my
newly-baptised godson. These monkeys, although sleeping by day, are
aroused by the least noise; so that, when a person passes by a tree in
which a number of them are concealed, he is startled by the sudden
apparition of a group of little striped faces crowding a hole in the
trunk. It was in this way that my compadre discovered the colony from
which the one given to me was taken. I was obliged to keep my pet
chained up; it therefore, never became thoroughly familiar. I once saw,
however, an individual of the other species (N. felinus) which was most
amusingly tame. It was as lively and nimble as the Cebi, but not so
mischievous and far more confiding in its disposition, delighting to be
caressed by all persons who came into the house. But its owner, the
Municipal Judge of Ega, Dr. Carlos Mariana, had treated it for many
weeks with the greatest kindness, allowing it to sleep with him at
night in his hammock, and to nestle in his bosom half the day as he lay
reading. It was a great favourite with everyone, from the cleanliness
of its habits to the prettiness of its features and ways. My own pet
was kept in a box, in which was placed a broad-mouthed glass jar; into
this it would dive, head foremost, when any one entered the room,
turning round inside, and thrusting forth its inquisitive face an
instant afterwards to stare at the intruder. It was very active at
night, venting at frequent intervals a hoarse cry, like the suppressed
barking of a dog, and scampering about the room, to the length of its
tether, after cockroaches and spiders. In climbing between the box and
the wall, it straddled the space, resting its hands on the palms and
tips of the out-stretched fingers with the knuckles bent at an acute
angle, and thus mounted to the top with the greatest facility. Although
seeming to prefer insects, it ate all kinds of fruit, but would not
touch raw or cooked meat, and was very seldom thirsty. I was told by
persons who had kept these monkeys loose about the house, that they
cleared the chambers of bats as well as insect vermin. When approached
gently my Ei-á allowed itself to be caressed; but when handled roughly,
it always took alarm, biting severely, striking out its little hands,
and making a hissing noise like a cat. As already related, my pet was
killed by a jealous Caiarára monkey, which was kept in the house at the
same time.
_Barrigudo Monkeys._—Ten other species of monkeys were found, in
addition to those already mentioned, in the forests of the Upper
Amazons. All were strictly arboreal and diurnal in their habits, and
lived in flocks, travelling from tree to tree, the mothers with their
children on their backs; leading, in fact, a life similar to that of
the Parárauáte Indians, and, like them, occasionally plundering the
plantations which lie near their line of march. Some of them were found
also on the Lower Amazons, and have been noticed in former chapters of
this narrative. Of the remainder, the most remarkable is the Macaco
barrigudo, or bag-bellied monkey of the Portuguese colonists, a species
of Lagothrix. The genus is closely allied to the Coaitás, or spider
monkeys, having, like them, exceedingly strong and flexible tails,
which are furnished underneath with a naked palm like a hand, for
grasping. The Barrigudos, however, are very bulky animals, whilst the
spider monkeys are remarkable for the slenderness of their bodies and
limbs. I obtained specimens of what have been considered two species,
one (L. olivaceus of Spix?) having the head clothed with grey, the
other (L. Humboldtii) with black fur. They both live together in the
same places, and are probably only differently-coloured individuals of
one and the same species. I sent home a very large male of one of these
kinds, which measured twenty-seven inches in length of trunk, the tail
being twenty-six inches long; it was the largest monkey I saw in
America, with the exception of a black Howler, whose body was
twenty-eight inches in height. The skin of the face in the Barrigudo is
black and wrinkled, the forehead is low, with the eyebrows projecting,
and, in short, the features altogether resemble in a striking manner
those of an old negro. In the forests, the Barrigudo is not a very
active animal; it lives exclusively on fruits, and is much persecuted
by the Indians, on account of the excellence of its flesh as food. From
information given me by a collector of birds and mammals, whom I
employed, and who resided a long time amongst the Tucuna Indians near
Tabatinga, I calculated that one horde of this tribe, 200 in number,
destroyed 1200 of these monkeys annually for food. The species is very
numerous in the forests of the higher lands, but, owing to long
persecution, it is now seldom seen in the neighbourhood of the larger
villages. It is not found at all on the Lower Amazons. Its manners in
captivity are grave, and its temper mild and confiding, like that of
the Coaitás. Owing to these traits, the Barrigudo is much sought after
for pets; but it is not hardy like the Coaitás, and seldom survives a
passage down the river to Pará.
_Marmosets._—It now only remains to notice the Marmosets, which form
the second family of American monkeys. Our old friend Midas ursulus, of
Pará and the Lower Amazons, is not found on the Upper river, but in its
stead a closely-allied species presents itself, which appears to be the
Midas rufoniger of Gervais, whose mouth is bordered with longish white
hairs. The habits of this species are the same as those of the M.
ursulus, indeed it seems probable that it is a form or race of the same
stock, modified to suit the altered local conditions under which it
lives. One day, whilst walking along a forest pathway, I saw one of
these lively little fellows miss his grasp as he was passing from one
tree to another along with his troop. He fell head foremost, from a
height of at least fifty feet, but managed cleverly to alight on his
legs in the pathway, quickly turning around, gave me a good stare for a
few moments, and then bounded off gaily to climb another tree. At
Tunantins, I shot a pair of a very handsome species of Marmoset, the M.
rufiventer, I believe, of zoologists. Its coat was very glossy and
smooth, the back deep brown, and the underside of the body of rich
black and reddish hues. A third species (found at Tabatinga, 200 miles
further west) is of a deep black colour, with the exception of a patch
of white hair around its mouth. The little animal, at a short distance,
looks as though it held a ball of snow-white cotton in its teeth. The
last I shall mention is the Hapale pygmæus, one of the most diminutive
forms of the monkey order, three full-grown specimens of which,
measuring only seven inches in length of body, I obtained near St.
Paulo. The pretty Lilliputian face is furnished with long brown
whiskers, which are naturally brushed back over the ears. The general
colour of the animal is brownish-tawny, but the tail is elegantly
barred with black. I was surprised, on my return to England, to learn
from specimens in the British Museum, that the pigmy Marmoset was found
also in Mexico, no other Amazonian monkey being known to wander far
from the great river plain. Thus, the smallest and apparently the
feeblest, species of the whole order, is one which has, by some means,
become the most widely dispersed.
_The Jupurá._—A curious animal, known to naturalists as the Kinkajou,
but called Jupurá by the Indians of the Amazons, and considered by them
as a kind of monkey, may be mentioned in this place. It is the
Cercoleptes caudivolvus of zoologists, and has been considered by some
authors as an intermediate form between the Lemur family of apes and
the plantigrade Carnivora, or Bear family. It has decidedly no close
relationship to either of the groups of American monkeys, having six
cutting teeth to each jaw, and long claws instead of nails, with
extremities of the usual shape of paws instead of hands. Its muzzle is
conical and pointed, like that of many Lemurs of Madagascar; the
expression of its countenance, and its habits and actions, are also
very similar to those of Lemurs. Its tail is very flexible towards the
tip, and is used to twine round branches in climbing. I did not see or
hear anything of this animal whilst residing on the Lower Amazons, but
on the banks of the Upper river, from the Teffé to Peru, it appeared to
be rather common. It is nocturnal in its habits, like the owl-faced
monkeys, although, unlike them, it has a bright, dark eye. I once saw
it in considerable numbers, when on an excursion with an Indian
companion along the low Ygapó shores of the Teffé, about twenty miles
above Ega. We slept one night at the house of a native family living in
the thick of the forest where a festival was going on and, there being
no room to hang our hammocks under shelter, on account of the number of
visitors, we lay down on a mat in the open air, near a shed which stood
in the midst of a grove of fruit-trees and pupunha palms. Past
midnight, when all became still, after the uproar of holiday-making, as
I was listening to the dull, fanning sound made by the wings of impish
hosts of vampire bats crowding round the Cajú trees, a rustle commenced
from the side of the woods, and a troop of slender, long-tailed animals
were seen against the clear moonlit sky, taking flying leaps from
branch to branch through the grove. Many of them stopped at the pupunha
trees, and the hustling, twittering, and screaming, with sounds of
falling fruits, showed how they were employed. I thought, at first,
they were Nyctipitheci, but they proved to be Jupurás, for the owner of
the house early next morning caught a young one, and gave it to me. I
kept this as a pet animal for several weeks, feeding it on bananas and
mandioca-meal mixed with treacle. It became tame in a very short time,
allowing itself to be caressed, but making a distinction in the degree
of confidence it showed between myself and strangers. My pet was
unfortunately killed by a neighbour’s dog, which entered the room where
it was kept. The animal is so difficult to obtain alive, its place of
retreat in the daytime not being known to the natives, that I was
unable to procure a second living specimen.
_Bats._—The only other mammals that I shall mention are the bats, which
exist in very considerable numbers and variety in the forest, as well
as in the buildings of the villages. Many small and curious species,
living in the woods, conceal themselves by day under the broad
leaf-blades of Heliconiæ and other plants which grow in shady places;
others cling to the trunks of trees. Whilst walking through the forest
in the daytime, especially along gloomy ravines, one is almost sure to
startle bats from their sleeping-places; and at night they are often
seen in great numbers flitting about the trees on the shady margins of
narrow channels. I captured altogether, without giving especial
attention to bats, sixteen different species at Ega.
_The Vampire Bat._—The little grey blood-sucking Phyllostoma, mentioned
in a former chapter as found in my chamber at Caripí, was not uncommon
at Ega, where everyone believes it to visit sleepers and bleed them in
the night. But the vampire was here by far the most abundant of the
family of leaf-nosed bats. It is the largest of all the South American
species, measuring twenty-eight inches in expanse of wing. Nothing in
animal physiognomy can be more hideous than the countenance of this
creature when viewed from the front; the large, leathery ears standing
out from the sides and top of the head, the erect spear-shaped
appendage on the tip of the nose, the grin and the glistening black
eye, all combining to make up a figure that reminds one of some mocking
imp of fable. No wonder that imaginative people have inferred
diabolical instincts on the part of so ugly an animal. The vampire,
however, is the most harmless of all bats, and its inoffensive
character is well known to residents on the banks of the Amazons. I
found two distinct species of it, one having the fur of a blackish
colour, the other of a ruddy hue, and ascertained that both feed
chiefly on fruits. The church at Ega was the headquarters of both
kinds, I used to see them, as I sat at my door during the short evening
twilights, trooping forth by scores from a large open window at the
back of the altar, twittering cheerfully as they sped off to the
borders of the forest. They sometimes enter houses; the first time I
saw one in my chamber, wheeling heavily round and round, I mistook it
for a pigeon, thinking that a tame one had escaped from the premises of
one of my neighbours. I opened the stomachs of several of these bats,
and found them to contain a mass of pulp and seeds of fruits, mingled
with a few remains of insects. The natives say they devour ripe cajús
and guavas on trees in the gardens, but on comparing the seeds taken
from their stomachs with those of all cultivated trees at Ega, I found
they were unlike any of them; it is therefore probable that they
generally resort to the forest to feed, coming to the village in the
morning to sleep, because they find it more secure from animals of prey
than their natural abides in the woods.
_Birds._—I have already had occasion to mention several of the more
interesting birds found in the Ega district. The first thing that would
strike a newcomer in the forests of the Upper Amazons would be the
general scarcity of birds; indeed, it often happened that I did not
meet with a single bird during a whole day’s ramble in the richest and
most varied parts of the woods. Yet the country is tenanted by many
hundred species, many of which are, in reality, abundant, and some of
them conspicuous from their brilliant plumage. The cause of their
apparent rarity is to be sought in the sameness and density of the
thousand miles of forest which constitute their dwelling-place. The
birds of the country are gregarious, at least during the season when
they are most readily found; but the frugivorous kinds are to be met
with only when certain wild fruits are ripe, and to know the exact
localities of the trees requires months of experience. It would not be
supposed that the insectivorous birds are also gregarious; but they are
so; numbers of distinct species, belonging to many different families,
joining together in the chase or search of food. The proceedings of
these associated bands of insect-hunters are not a little curious, and
merit a few remarks.
Whilst hunting along the narrow pathways that are made through the
forest in the neighbourhood of houses and villages, one may pass
several days without seeing many birds; but now and then the
surrounding bushes and trees appear suddenly to swarm with them. There
are scores, probably hundreds of birds, all moving about with the
greatest activity—woodpeckers and Dendrocolaptidæ (from species no
larger than a sparrow to others the size of a crow) running up the tree
trunks; tanagers, ant-thrushes, humming-birds, fly-catchers, and
barbets flitting about the leaves and lower branches. The bustling
crowd loses no time, and although moving in concert, each bird is
occupied, on its own account, in searching bark or leaf or twig; the
barbets visit every clayey nest of termites on the trees which lie in
the line of march. In a few minutes the host is gone, and the forest
path remains deserted and silent as before. I became, in course of
time, so accustomed to this habit of birds in the woods near Ega, that
I could generally find the flock of associated marauders whenever I
wanted it. There appeared to be only one of these flocks in each small
district; and, as it traversed chiefly a limited tract of woods of
second growth, I used to try different paths until I came up with it.
The Indians have noticed these miscellaneous hunting parties of birds,
but appear not to have observed that they are occupied in searching for
insects. They have supplied their want of knowledge, in the usual way
of half-civilised people, by a theory which has degenerated into a
myth, to the effect that the onward moving bands are led by a little
grey bird, called the Uirá-pará, which fascinates all the rest, and
leads them a weary dance through the thickets. There is certainly some
appearance of truth in this explanation, for sometimes stray birds
encountered in the line of march, are seen to be drawn into the throng,
and purely frugivorous birds are now and then found mixed up with the
rest, as though led away by some will-o’-the-wisp. The native women,
even the white and half-caste inhabitants of the towns, attach a
superstitious value to the skin and feathers of the Uirá-pará,
believing that if they keep them in their clothes’ chest, the relics
will have the effect of attracting for the happy possessors a train of
lovers and followers. These birds are consequently in great demand in
some places, the hunters selling them at a high price to the foolish
girls, who preserve the bodies by drying flesh and feathers together in
the sun. I could never get a sight of this famous little bird in the
forest. I once employed Indians to obtain specimens for me; but, after
the same man (who was a noted woodsman) brought me, at different times,
three distinct species of birds as the Uirá-pará, I gave up the story
as a piece of humbug. The simplest explanation appears to be this: the
birds associate in flocks from the instinct of self-preservation in
order to be a less easy prey to hawks, snakes, and other enemies than
they would be if feeding alone.
_Toucans.—Cuvier’s Toucan._—Of this family of birds, so conspicuous
from the great size and light structure of their beaks, and so
characteristic of tropical American forests, five species inhabit the
woods of Ega. The commonest is Cuvier’s Toucan, a large bird,
distinguished from its nearest relatives by the feathers at the bottom
of the back being of a saffron hue instead of red. It is found more or
less numerously throughout the year, as it breeds in the neighbourhood,
laying its eggs in holes of trees, at a great height from the ground.
During most months of the year, it is met with in single individuals or
small flocks, and the birds are then very wary. Sometimes one of these
little bands of four or five is seen perched, for hours together,
amongst the topmost branches of high trees, giving vent to their
remarkably loud, shrill, yelping cries, one bird, mounted higher than
the rest, acting, apparently, as leader of the inharmonious chorus; but
two of them are often heard yelping alternately, and in different
notes. These cries have a vague resemblance to the syllables Tocáno,
Tocáno, and hence, the Indian name of this genus of birds. At these
times it is difficult to get a shot at Toucans, for their senses are so
sharpened that they descry the hunter before he gets near the tree on
which they are perched, although he may be half-concealed amongst the
underwood, 150 feet below them. They stretch their necks downwards to
look beneath, and on espying the least movement amongst the foliage,
fly off to the more inaccessible parts of the forest. Solitary Toucans
are sometimes met with at the same season, hopping silently up and down
the larger boughs, and peering into crevices of the tree-trunks. They
moult in the months from March to June, some individuals earlier,
others later. This season of enforced quiet being passed, they make
their appearance suddenly in the dry forest, near Ega, in large flocks,
probably assemblages of birds gathered together from the neighbouring
Ygapó forests, which are then flooded and cold. The birds have now
become exceedingly tame, and the troops travel with heavy laborious
flight from bough to bough amongst the lower trees. They thus become an
easy prey to hunters, and everyone at Ega who can get a gun of any sort
and a few charges of powder and shot, or a blow-pipe, goes daily to the
woods to kill a few brace for dinner; for, as already observed, the
people of Ega live almost exclusively on stewed and roasted Toucans
during the months of June and July, the birds being then very fat and
the meat exceedingly sweet and tender.
No one, on seeing a Toucan, can help asking what is the use of the
enormous bill, which, in some species, attains a length of seven
inches, and a width of more than two inches. A few remarks on this
subject may be here introduced. The early naturalists, having seen only
the bill of a Toucan, which was esteemed as a marvellous production by
the _virtuosi_ of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, concluded
that the bird must have belonged to the aquatic and web-footed order,
as this contains so many species of remarkable development of beak,
adapted for seizing fish. Some travellers also related fabulous stories
of Toucans resorting to the banks of rivers to feed on fish, and these
accounts also encouraged the erroneous views of the habits of the birds
which for a long time prevailed. Toucans, however, are now well known
to be eminently arboreal birds, and to belong to a group (including
trogons, parrots, and barbets[2]), all of whose members are
fruit-eaters. On the Amazons, where these birds are very common, no one
pretends ever to have seen a Toucan walking on the ground in its
natural state, much less acting the part of a swimming or wading bird.
Professor Owen found, on dissection, that the gizzard in Toucans is not
so well adapted for the trituration of food as it is in other vegetable
feeders, and concluded, therefore, as Broderip had observed the habit
of chewing the cud in a tame bird, that the great toothed bill was
useful in holding and remasticating the food. The bill can scarcely be
said to be a very good contrivance for seizing and crushing small
birds, or taking them from their nests in crevices of trees, habits
which have been imputed to Toucans by some writers. The hollow,
cellular structure of the interior of the bill, its curved and clumsy
shape, and the deficiency of force and precision when it is used to
seize objects, suggest a want of fitness, if this be the function of
the member. But fruit is undoubtedly the chief food of Toucans, and it
is in reference to their mode of obtaining it that the use of their
uncouth bills is to be sought.
[2] _Capitoninæ_, G. R. Gray.
Flowers and fruit on the crowns of the large trees of South American
forests grow, principally, towards the end of slender twigs, which will
not bear any considerable weight; all animals, therefore, which feed
upon fruit, or on insects contained in flowers, must, of course, have
some means of reaching the ends of the stalks from a distance. Monkeys
obtain their food by stretching forth their long arms and, in some
instances, their tails, to bring the fruit near to their mouths.
Humming-birds are endowed with highly perfected organs of flight with
corresponding muscular development by which they are enabled to sustain
themselves on the wing before blossoms whilst rifling them of their
contents. These strong-flying creatures, however, will, whenever they
can get near enough, remain on their perches whilst probing
neighbouring flowers for insects. Trogons have feeble wings, and a
dull, inactive temperament. Their mode of obtaining food is to station
themselves quietly on low branches in the gloomy shades of the forest,
and eye the fruits on the surrounding trees, darting off, as if with an
effort, every time they wish to seize a mouthful, and returning to the
same perch. Barbets (Capitoninæ) seem to have no especial endowment,
either of habits or structure, to enable them to seize fruits; and in
this respect they are similar to the Toucans, if we leave the bill out
of question, both tribes having heavy bodies, with feeble organs of
flight, so that they are disabled from taking their food on the wing.
The purpose of the enormous bill here becomes evident; it is to enable
the Toucan to reach and devour fruit whilst remaining seated, and thus
to counterbalance the disadvantage which its heavy body and gluttonous
appetite would otherwise give it in the competition with allied groups
of birds. The relation between the extraordinarily lengthened bill of
the Toucan and its mode of obtaining food, is therefore precisely
similar to that between the long neck and lips of the Giraffe and the
mode of browsing of the animal. The bill of the Toucan can scarcely be
considered a very perfectly-formed instrument for the end to which it
is applied, as here explained; but nature appears not to invent organs
at once for the functions to which they are now adapted, but avails
herself, here of one already-existing structure or instinct, there of
another, according as they are handy when need for their further
modification arises.
One day, whilst walking along the principal pathway in the woods near
Ega, I saw one of these Toucans seated gravely on a low branch close to
the road, and had no difficulty in seizing it with my hand. It turned
out to be a runaway pet bird; no one, however, came to own it, although
I kept it in my house for several months. The bird was in a
half-starved and sickly condition, but after a few days of good living
it recovered health and spirits, and became one of the most amusing
pets imaginable. Many excellent accounts of the habits of tame Toucans
have been published, and therefore, I need not describe them in detail,
but I do not recollect to have seen any notice of their intelligence
and confiding disposition under domestication, in which qualities my
pet seemed to be almost equal to parrots. I allowed Tocáno to go free
about the house, contrary to my usual practice with pet animals, he
never, however, mounted my working-table after a smart correction which
he received the first time he did it. He used to sleep on the top of a
box in a corner of the room, in the usual position of these birds,
namely, with the long tail laid right over on the back, and the beak
thrust underneath the wing. He ate of everything that we eat; beef,
turtle, fish, farinha, fruit, and was a constant attendant at our
table—a cloth spread on a mat. His appetite was most ravenous, and his
powers of digestion quite wonderful. He got to know the meal hours to a
nicety, and we found it very difficult, after the first week or two, to
keep him away from the dining-room, where he had become very impudent
and troublesome. We tried to shut him out by enclosing him in the
backyard, which was separated by a high fence from the street on which
our front door opened, but he used to climb the fence and hop round by
a long circuit to the dining-room, making his appearance with the
greatest punctuality as the meal was placed on the table. He acquired
the habit, afterwards, of rambling about the street near our house, and
one day he was stolen, so we gave him up for lost. But two days
afterwards he stepped through the open doorway at dinner hour, with his
old gait, and sly magpie-like expression, having escaped from the house
where he had been guarded by the person who had stolen him, and which
was situated at the further end of the village.
Curl-crested Toucan.
_The Curl-crested Toucan (Pteroglossus Beauharnaisii)._—Of the four
smaller Toucans, or Arassaris, found near Ega, the Pteroglossus
flavirostris is perhaps the most beautiful in colours, its breast being
adorned with broad belts of rich crimson and black; but the most
curious species, by far, is the Curl-crested, or Beauharnais Toucan.
The feathers on the head of this singular bird are transformed into
thin, horny plates, of a lustrous black colour, curled up at the ends,
and resembling shavings of steel or ebony-wood: the curly crest being
arranged on the crown in the form of a wig. Mr. Wallace and I first met
with this species, on ascending the Amazons, at the mouth of the
Solimoens; from that point it continues as a rather common bird on the
terra firma, at least on the south side of the river as far as Fonte
Boa, but I did not hear of its being found further to the west. It
appears in large flocks in the forests near Ega in May and June, when
it has completed its moult. I did not find these bands congregated at
fruit-trees, but always wandering through the forest, hopping from
branch to branch amongst the lower trees, and partly concealed amongst
the foliage. None of the Arassarís, to my knowledge, make a yelping
noise like that uttered by the larger Toucans (Ramphastos); the notes
of the curl-crested species are very singular, resembling the croaking
of frogs. I had an amusing adventure one day with these birds. I had
shot one from a rather high tree in a dark glen in the forest, and
entered the thicket where the bird had fallen to secure my booty. It
was only wounded, and on my attempting to seize it, set up a loud
scream. In an instant, as if by magic, the shady nook seemed alive with
these birds, although there was certainly none visible when I entered
the jungle. They descended towards me, hopping from bough to bough,
some of them swinging on the loops and cables of woody lianas, and all
croaking and fluttering their wings like so many furies. If I had had a
long stick in my hand I could have knocked several of them over. After
killing the wounded one, I began to prepare for obtaining more
specimens and punishing the viragos for their boldness; but the
screaming of their companion having ceased, they remounted the trees,
and before I could reload, every one of them had disappeared.
Adventure with Curl-crested Toucans.
_Insects._—Upwards of 7000 species of insects were found in the
neighbourhood of Ega. I must confine myself in this place to a few
remarks on the order Lepidoptera, and on the ants, several kinds of
which, found chiefly on the Upper Amazons, exhibit the most
extraordinary instincts.
Suspended cocoon of Moth.
I found about 550 distinct species of butterflies at Ega. Those who
know a little of Entomology will be able to form some idea of the
riches of the place in this department, when I mention that eighteen
species of true Papilio (the swallow-tail genus) were found within ten
minutes’ walk of my house. No fact could speak more plainly for the
surpassing exuberance of the vegetation, the varied nature of the land,
the perennial warmth and humidity of the climate. But no description
can convey an adequate notion of the beauty and diversity in form and
colour of this class of insects in the neighbourhood of Ega. I paid
special attention to them, having found that this tribe was better
adapted than almost any other group of animals or plants to furnish
facts in illustration of the modifications which all species undergo in
nature, under changed local conditions. This accidental superiority is
owing partly to the simplicity and distinctness of the specific
character of the insects, and partly to the facility with which very
copious series of specimens can be collected and placed side by side
for comparison. The distinctness of the specific characters is due
probably to the fact that all the superficial signs of change in the
organisation are exaggerated, and made unusually plain by affecting the
framework, shape, and colour of the wings, which, as many anatomists
believe, are magnified extensions of the skin around the breathing
orifices of the thorax of the insects. These expansions are clothed
with minute feathers or scales, coloured in regular patterns, which
vary in accordance with the slightest change in the conditions to which
the species are exposed. It may be said, therefore, that on these
expanded membranes Nature writes, as on a tablet, the story of the
modifications of species, so truly do all changes of the organisation
register themselves thereon. Moreover, the same colour-patterns of the
wings generally show, with great regularity, the degrees of
blood-relationship of the species. As the laws of Nature must be the
same for all beings, the conclusions furnished by this group of insects
must be applicable to the whole organic world; therefore, the study of
butterflies—creatures selected as the types of airiness and
frivolity—instead of being despised, will some day be valued as one of
the most important branches of Biological science.
Sack-bearing Caterpillar (Saccophora).
Before proceeding to describe the ants, a few remarks may be made on
the singular cases and cocoons woven by the caterpillars of certain
moths found at Ega. The first that may be mentioned is one of the most
beautiful examples of insect workmanship I ever saw. It is a cocoon,
about the size of a sparrow’s egg, woven by a caterpillar in broad
meshes of either buff or rose-coloured silk, and is frequently seen in
the narrow alleys of the forest, suspended from the extreme tip of an
outstanding leaf by a strong silken thread five or six inches in
length. It forms a very conspicuous object, hanging thus in mid-air.
The glossy threads with which it is knitted are stout, and the
structure is therefore not liable to be torn by the beaks of
insectivorous birds, whilst its pendulous position makes it doubly
secure against their attacks, the apparatus giving way when they peck
at it. There is a small orifice at each end of the egg-shaped bag, to
admit of the escape of the moth when it changes from the little
chrysalis which sleeps tranquilly in its airy cage. The moth is of a
dull slatey colour, and belongs to the Lithosiide group of the
silk-worm family (Bombycidæ). When the caterpillar begins its work, it
lets itself down from the tip of the leaf which it has chosen by
spinning a thread of silk, the thickness of which it slowly increases
as it descends. Having given the proper length to the cord, it proceeds
to weave its elegant bag, placing itself in the centre and spinning
rings of silk at regular intervals, connecting them at the same time by
means of cross threads; so that the whole, when finished, forms a loose
web, with quadrangular meshes of nearly equal size throughout. The task
occupies about four days: when finished, the enclosed caterpillar
becomes sluggish, its skin shrivels and cracks, and there then remains
a motionless chrysalis of narrow shape, leaning against the sides of
its silken cage.
Many other kinds are found at Ega belonging to the same cocoon-weaving
family, some of which differ from the rest in their caterpillars
possessing the art of fabricating cases with fragments of wood or
leaves, in which they live secure from all enemies whilst they are
feeding and growing. I saw many species of these; some of them knitted
together, with fine silken threads, small bits of stick, and so made
tubes similar to those of caddice-worms; others (Saccophora) chose
leaves for the same purpose, forming with them an elongated bag open at
both ends, and having the inside lined with a thick web. The tubes of
full-grown caterpillars of Saccophora are two inches in length, and it
is at this stage of growth that I have generally seen them. They feed
on the leaves of Melastoniæ, and as in crawling, the weight of so large
a dwelling would be greater than the contained caterpillar could
sustain, the insect attaches the case by one or more threads to the
leaves or twigs near which it is feeding.
_Foraging Ants._—Many confused statements have been published in books
of travel, and copied in Natural History works, regarding these ants,
which appear to have been confounded with the Saüba, a sketch of whose
habits has been given in the first chapter of this work. The Saüba is a
vegetable feeder, and does not attack other animals; the accounts that
have been published regarding carnivorous ants which hunt in vast
armies, exciting terror wherever they go, apply only to the Ecitons, or
foraging ants, a totally different group of this tribe of insects. The
Ecitons are called Tauóca by the Indians, who are always on the
look-out for their armies when they traverse the forest, so as to avoid
being attacked. I met with ten distinct species of them, nearly all of
which have a different system of marching; eight were new to science
when I sent them to England. Some are found commonly in every part of
the country, and one is peculiar to the open campos of Santarem; but,
as nearly all the species are found together at Ega, where the forest
swarmed with their armies, I have left an account of the habits of the
whole genus for this part of my narrative. The Ecitons resemble, in
their habits, the Driver ants of Tropical Africa; but they have no
close relationship with them in structure, and indeed belong to quite
another sub-group of the ant-tribe.
Like many other ants, the communities of Ecitons are composed, besides
males and females, of two classes of workers, a large-headed
(worker-major) and a small-headed (worker-minor) class; the large-heads
have, in some species, greatly lengthened jaws, the small-heads have
jaws always of the ordinary shape; but the two classes are not
sharply-defined in structure and function, except in two of the
species. There is in all of them a little difference amongst the
workers regarding the size of the head; but in some species this is not
sufficient to cause a separation into classes, with division of labour;
in others, the jaws are so monstrously lengthened in the worker-majors,
that they are incapacitated from taking part in the labours which the
worker-minors perform; and again, in others the difference is so great
that the distinction of classes becomes complete, one acting the part
of soldiers, and the other that of workers. The peculiar feature in the
habits of the Eciton genus is their hunting for prey in regular bodies,
or armies. It is this which chiefly distinguishes them from the genus
of common red stinging-ants, several species of which inhabit England,
whose habit is to search for food in the usual irregular manner. All
the Ecitons hunt in large organised bodies; but almost every species
has its own special manner of hunting.
_Eciton rapax._—One of the foragers, Eciton rapax, the giant of its
genus, whose worker-majors are half-an-inch in length, hunts in single
file through the forest. There is no division into classes amongst its
workers, although the difference in size is very great, some being
scarcely one-half the length of others. The head and jaws, however, are
always of the same shape, and a gradation in size is presented from the
largest to the smallest, so that all are able to take part in the
common labours of the colony. The chief employment of the species seems
to be plundering the nests of a large and defenseless ant of another
genus (Formica), whose mangled bodies I have often seen in their
possession as they were marching away. The armies of Eciton rapax are
never very numerous.
_Eciton legionis._—Another species, E. legionis, agrees with E. rapax
in having workers not rigidly divisible into two classes; but it is
much smaller in size, not differing greatly, in this respect, from our
common English red ant (Myrmica rubra), which it also resembles in
colour. The Eciton legionis lives in open places, and was seen only on
the sandy campos of Santarem. The movement of its hosts were,
therefore, much more easy to observe than those of all other kinds,
which inhabit solely the densest thickets; its sting and bite, also,
were less formidable than those of other species. The armies of E.
legionis consist of many thousands of individuals, and move in rather
broad columns. They are just as quick to break line, on being
disturbed, and attack hurriedly and furiously any intruding object, as
the other Ecitons. The species is not a common one, and I seldom had
good opportunities to watch its habits. The first time I saw an army
was one evening near sunset. The column consisted of two trains of
ants, moving in opposite directions; one train empty-handed, the other
laden with the mangled remains of insects, chiefly larvæ and pupæ of
other ants. I had no difficulty in tracing the line to the spot from
which they were conveying their booty: this was a low thicket; the
Ecitons were moving rapidly about a heap of dead leaves; but as the
short tropical twilight was deepening rapidly, and I had no wish to be
benighted on the lonely campos, I deferred further examination until
the next day.
On the following morning, no trace of ants could be found near the
place where I had seen them the preceding day, nor were there signs of
insects of any description in the thicket, but at the distance of
eighty or one hundred yards, I came upon the same army, engaged,
evidently, on a razzia of a similar kind to that of the previous
evening, but requiring other resources of their instinct, owing to the
nature of the ground. They were eagerly occupied on the face of an
inclined bank of light earth, in excavating mines, whence, from a depth
of eight or ten inches, they were extracting the bodies of a bulky
species of ant, of the genus Formica. It was curious to see them
crowding around the orifices of the mines, some assisting their
comrades to lift out the bodies of the Formicæ, and others tearing them
in pieces, on account of their weight being too great for a single
Eciton; a number of carriers seizing each a fragment, and carrying it
off down the slope. On digging into the earth with a small trowel near
the entrances of the mines, I found the nests of the Formicæ, with
grubs and cocoons, which the Ecitons were thus invading, at a depth of
about eight inches from the surface. The eager freebooters rushed in as
fast as I excavated, and seized the ants in my fingers as I picked them
out, so that I had some difficulty in rescuing a few intact for
specimens. In digging the numerous mines to get at their prey, the
little Ecitons seemed to be divided into parties, one set excavating,
and another set carrying away the grains of earth. When the shafts
became rather deep, the mining parties had to climb up the sides each
time they wished to cast out a pellet of earth; but their work was
lightened for them by comrades, who stationed themselves at the mouth
of the shaft, and relieved them of their burthens, carrying the
particles, with an appearance of foresight which quite staggered me, a
sufficient distance from the edge of the hole to prevent them from
rolling in again. All the work seemed thus to be performed by
intelligent co-operation amongst the host of eager little creatures,
but still there was not a rigid division of labour, for some of them,
whose proceedings I watched, acted at one time as carriers of pellets,
and at another as miners, and all shortly afterwards assumed the office
of conveyors of the spoil.
In about two hours, all the nests of Formicæ were rifled, though not
completely, of their contents, and I turned towards the army of
Ecitons, which were carrying away the mutilated remains. For some
distance there were many separate lines of them moving along the slope
of the bank; but a short distance off, these all converged, and then
formed one close and broad column, which continued for some sixty or
seventy yards, and terminated at one of those large termitariums or
hillocks of white ants which are constructed of cemented material as
hard as stone. The broad and compact column of ants moved up the steep
sides of the hillock in a continued stream; many, which had hitherto
trotted along empty-handed, now turned to assist their comrades with
their heavy loads, and the whole descended into a spacious gallery or
mine, opening on the top of the termitarium. I did not try to reach the
nest, which I supposed to lie at the bottom of the broad mine, and
therefore, in the middle of the base of the stony hillock.
_Eciton drepanophora._—The commonest species of foraging ants are the
Eciton hamata and E. drepanophora, two kinds which resemble each other
so closely that it requires attentive examination to distinguish them;
yet their armies never intermingle, although moving in the same woods
and often crossing each other’s tracks. The two classes of workers
look, at first sight, quite distinct, on account of the wonderful
amount of difference between the largest individuals of the one, and
the smallest of the other. There are dwarfs not more than one-fifth of
an inch in length, with small heads and jaws, and giants half an inch
in length with monstrously enlarged head and jaws, all belonging to the
same brood. There is not, however, a distinct separation of classes,
individuals existing which connect together the two extremes. These
Ecitons are seen in the pathways of the forest at all places on the
banks of the Amazons, travelling in dense columns of countless
thousands. One or other of them is sure to be met with in a woodland
ramble, and it is to them, probably, that the stories we read in books
on South America apply, of ants clearing houses of vermin, although I
heard of no instance of their entering houses, their ravages being
confined to the thickest parts of the forest.
Foraging ants (Eciton drepanophora).
When the pedestrian falls in with a train of these ants, the first
signal given him is a twittering and restless movement of small flocks
of plain-coloured birds (ant-thrushes) in the jungle. If this be
disregarded until he advances a few steps farther, he is sure to fall
into trouble, and find himself suddenly attacked by numbers of the
ferocious little creatures. They swarm up his legs with incredible
rapidity, each one driving his pincer-like jaws into his skin, and with
the purchase thus obtained, doubling in its tail, and stinging with all
its might. There is no course left but to run for it; if he is
accompanied by natives they will be sure to give the alarm, crying
“Tauóca!” and scampering at full speed to the other end of the column
of ants. The tenacious insects who have secured themselves to his legs
then have to be plucked off one by one, a task which is generally not
accomplished without pulling them in twain, and leaving heads and jaws
sticking in the wounds.
The errand of the vast ant-armies is plunder, as in the case of Eciton
legionis; but from their moving always amongst dense thickets, their
proceedings are not so easy to observe as in that species. Wherever
they move, the whole animal world is set in commotion, and every
creature tries to get out of their way. But it is especially the
various tribes of wingless insects that have cause for fear, such as
heavy-bodied spiders, ants of other species, maggots, caterpillars,
larvæ of cockroaches and so forth, all of which live under fallen
leaves, or in decaying wood. The Ecitons do not mount very high on
trees, and therefore the nestlings of birds are not much incommoded by
them. The mode of operation of these armies, which I ascertained only
after long-continued observation, is as follows: the main column, from
four to six deep, moves forward in a given direction, clearing the
ground of all animal matter dead or alive, and throwing off here and
there a thinner column to forage for a short time on the flanks of the
main army, and re-enter it again after their task is accomplished. If
some very rich place be encountered anywhere near the line of march,
for example, a mass of rotten wood abounding in insect larvæ, a delay
takes place, and a very strong force of ants is concentrated upon it.
The excited creatures search every cranny and tear in pieces all the
large grubs they drag to light. It is curious to see them attack wasps’
nests, which are sometimes built on low shrubs. They gnaw away the
papery covering to get at the larvæ, pupæ, and newly-hatched wasps, and
cut everything to tatters, regardless of the infuriated owners which
are flying about them. In bearing off their spoil in fragments, the
pieces are apportioned to the carriers with some degree of regard to
fairness of load: the dwarfs taking the smallest pieces, and the
strongest fellows with small heads the heaviest portions. Sometimes two
ants join together in carrying one piece, but the worker-majors, with
their unwieldy and distorted jaws, are incapacitated from taking any
part in the labour. The armies never march far on a beaten path, but
seem to prefer the entangled thickets where it is seldom possible to
follow them. I have traced an army sometimes for half a mile or more,
but was never able to find one that had finished its day’s course and
returned to its hive. Indeed, I never met with a hive; whenever the
Ecitons were seen, they were always on the march.
I thought one day, at Villa Nova, that I had come upon a migratory
horde of this indefatigable ant. The place was a tract of open ground
near the river side, just outside the edge of the forest, and
surrounded by rocks and shrubbery. A dense column of Ecitons was seen
extending from the rocks on one side of the little haven, traversing
the open space, and ascending the opposite declivity. The length of the
procession was from sixty to seventy yards, and yet neither van nor
rear was visible. All were moving in one and the same direction, except
a few individuals on the outside of the column, which were running
rearward, trotting along for a short distance, and then turning again
to follow the same course as the main body. But these rearward
movements were going on continually from one end to the other of the
line, and there was every appearance of there being a means of keeping
up a common understanding amongst all the members of the army, for the
retrograding ants stopped very often for a moment to touch one or other
of their onward-moving comrades with their antennæ; a proceeding which
has been noticed in other ants, and supposed to be their mode of
conveying intelligence. When I interfered with the column or abstracted
an individual from it, news of the disturbance was very quickly
communicated to a distance of several yards towards the rear, and the
column at that point commenced retreating. All the small-headed workers
carried in their jaws a little cluster of white maggots, which I
thought at the time, might be young larvæ of their own colony, but
afterwards found reason to conclude were the grubs of some other
species whose nests they had been plundering, the procession being most
likely not a migration, but a column on a marauding expedition.
The position of the large-headed individuals in the marching column was
rather curious. There was one of these extraordinary fellows to about a
score of the smaller class. None of them carried anything in their
mouths, but all trotted along empty-handed and outside the column, at
pretty regular intervals from each other, like subaltern officers in a
marching regiment of soldiers. It was easy to be tolerably exact in
this observation, for their shining white heads made them very
conspicuous amongst the rest, bobbing up and down as the column passed
over the inequalities of the road. I did not see them change their
position, or take any notice of their small-headed comrades marching in
the column, and when I disturbed the line, they did not prance forth or
show fight so eagerly as the others. These large-headed members of the
community have been considered by some authors as a soldier class, like
the similarly-armed caste in Termites; but I found no proof of this, at
least in the present species, as they always seemed to be rather less
pugnacious than the worker-minors, and their distorted jaws disabled
them from fastening on a plane surface like the skin of an attacking
animal. I am inclined, however, to think that they may act, in a less
direct way, as protectors of the community, namely, as indigestible
morsels to the flocks of ant-thrushes which follow the marching columns
of these Ecitons, and are the most formidable enemies of the species.
It is possible that the hooked and twisted jaws of the large-headed
class may be effective weapons of annoyance when in the gizzards or
stomachs of these birds, but I unfortunately omitted to ascertain
whether this was really the fact.
The life of these Ecitons is not all work, for I frequently saw them
very leisurely employed in a way that looked like recreation. When this
happened, the place was always a sunny nook in the forest. The main
column of the army and the branch columns, at these times, were in
their ordinary relative positions; but, instead of pressing forward
eagerly, and plundering right and left, they seemed to have been all
smitten with a sudden fit of laziness. Some were walking slowly about,
others were brushing their antennæ with their forefeet; but the
drollest sight was their cleaning one another. Here and there an ant
was seen stretching forth first one leg and then another, to be brushed
or washed by one or more of its comrades, who performed the task by
passing the limb between the jaws and the tongue, and finishing by
giving the antennæ a friendly wipe. It was a curious spectacle, and one
well calculated to increase one’s amazement at the similarity between
the instinctive actions of ants and the acts of rational beings, a
similarity which must have been brought about by two different
processes of development of the primary qualities of mind. The actions
of these ants looked like simple indulgence in idle amusement. Have
these little creatures, then, an excess of energy beyond what is
required for labours absolutely necessary to the welfare of their
species, and do they thus expend it in mere sportiveness, like young
lambs or kittens, or in idle whims like rational beings? It is probable
that these hours of relaxation and cleaning may be indispensable to the
effective performance of their harder labours, but whilst looking at
them, the conclusion that the ants were engaged merely in play was
irresistible.
_Eciton prædator._—This is a small dark-reddish species, very similar
to the common red stinging-ant of England. It differs from all other
Ecitons in its habit of hunting, not in columns, but in dense phalanxes
consisting of myriads of individuals, and was first met with at Ega,
where it is very common. Nothing in insect movements is more striking
than the rapid march of these large and compact bodies. Wherever they
pass all the rest of the animal world is thrown into a state of alarm.
They stream along the ground and climb to the summits of all the lower
trees, searching every leaf to its apex, and whenever they encounter a
mass of decaying vegetable matter, where booty is plentiful, they
concentrate, like other Ecitons, all their forces upon it, the dense
phalanx of shining and quickly-moving bodies, as it spreads over the
surface, looking like a flood of dark-red liquid. They soon penetrate
every part of the confused heap, and then, gathering together again in
marching order, onward they move. All soft-bodied and inactive insects
fall an easy prey to them, and, like other Ecitons, they tear their
victims in pieces for facility of carriage. A phalanx of this species,
when passing over a tract of smooth ground, occupies a space of from
four to six square yards; on examining the ants closely they are seen
to move, not altogether in one straightforward direction, but in
variously spreading contiguous columns, now separating a little from
the general mass, now re-uniting with it. The margins of the phalanx
spread out at times like a cloud of skirmishers from the flanks of an
army. I was never able to find the hive of this species.
_Blind Ecitons._—I will now give a short account of the blind species
of Eciton. None of the foregoing kinds have eyes of the facetted or
compound structure such as are usual in insects, and which ordinary
ants (Formica) are furnished with, but all are provided with organs of
vision composed each of a single lens. Connecting them with the utterly
blind species of the genus, is a very stout-limbed Eciton, the E.
crassicornis, whose eyes are sunk in rather deep sockets. This ant goes
on foraging expeditions like the rest of its tribe, and attacks even
the nests of other stinging species (Myrmica), but it avoids the light,
moving always in concealment under leaves and fallen branches. When its
columns have to cross a cleared space, the ants construct a temporary
covered way with granules of earth, arched over, and holding together
mechanically; under this, the procession passes in secret, the
indefatigable creatures repairing their arcade as fast as breaches are
made in it.
Foraging ants (Eciton erratica) constructing a covered road—Soldiers
sallying out on being disturbed.
Next in order comes the Eciton vastator, which has no eyes, although
the collapsed sockets are plainly visible; and, lastly, the Eciton
erratica, in which both sockets and eyes have disappeared, leaving only
a faint ring to mark the place where they are usually situated. The
armies of E. vastator and E. erratica move, as far as I could learn,
wholly under covered roads, the ants constructing them gradually but
rapidly as they advance. The column of foragers pushes forward step by
step under the protection of these covered passages, through the
thickets, and upon reaching a rotting log, or other promising
hunting-ground, pour into the crevices in search of booty. I have
traced their arcades, occasionally, for a distance of one or two
hundred yards; the grains of earth are taken from the soil over which
the column is passing, and are fitted together without cement. It is
this last-mentioned feature that distinguishes them from the similar
covered roads made by Termites, who use their glutinous saliva to
cement the grains together. The blind Ecitons, working in numbers,
build up simultaneously the sides of their convex arcades, and
contrive, in a surprising manner, to approximate them and fit in the
key-stones without letting the loose uncemented structure fall to
pieces. There was a very clear division of labour between the two
classes of neuters in these blind species. The large-headed class,
although not possessing monstrously-lengthened jaws like the
worker-majors in E. hamata and E. drepanophora, are rigidly defined in
structure from the small-headed class, and act as soldiers, defending
the working community (like soldier Termites) against all comers.
Whenever I made a breach in one of their covered ways, all the ants
underneath were set in commotion, but the worker-minors remained behind
to repair the damage, whilst the large-heads issued forth in a most
menacing manner, rearing their heads and snapping their jaws with an
expression of the fiercest rage and defiance.