SOME THINGS WE MIGHT LEARN FROM THE LOWER ANIMALS.

Man has been instructed in many things by lower animals, but there is

yet much to be learned. It is said that the first suspension bridge

across the Niagara was constructed after the plainest sort of hint from

a spider. Yet we have never found the name of Mr. Spider cut upon the

buttresses of a bridge. Who knows but that the builders of the pyramids

of ancient Egypt copied their engineering plans from the ants who for

generations had pursued similar methods in the architecture of their

cities? Spiders had been ballooning for many centuries before man swung

his first parachute to the breeze. In fact, there is a species of

spider, which, although they have no wings, are able to spin for

themselves a sort of apparatus by means of which they navigate the air;

yet man, with all his boasted intelligence, has not accomplished this,

even with the most complicated machinery. So I might go on to suggest

many mechanical and economic contrivances used by lower animals, some of

which man has copied but many of which he has as yet been unable to

equal.

Before the first potter of old had fashioned a vase or a jug the Eumenes

fraterna had constructed his dainty little jugs of mud. But the making

of jugs is not the only art man might learn from this little wasp. Upon

examination we find the jug filled with small green caterpillars. After

depositing her egg Mrs. Wasp thus provides for her baby when it shall

appear upon the field of action. Now the peculiar part of this

proceeding to which I wish to call attention is that the worm is not

dead, but is merely in a comatose state. If it had been killed it would

have putrified and entirely disappeared before the young wasp was

hatched. Furthermore, the young wasp is fond of fresh caterpillar steak,

preferably from the living animal. So Mrs. Wasp must have a method of

preserving the fresh living victim for her rapacious progeny next

spring, while he is too young to hunt for himself, and while the

caterpillars are still securely hiding in their mummy cases, Mrs. Wasp

finds the venturesome young caterpillar crawling somewhere, and pouncing

upon him, carefully inserts her sting into the nerve ganglia that are

located in a line along his dorsal surface. We don’t know how she

learned the exact location of the ganglia and that a few well-directed

stabs will produce more effect than hundreds of misdirected thrusts in

other parts of the body, but it is certainly true that she selects the

very segments in which the ganglia are located to inflict the wound. And

she had the location of these nerve centers for a long time before

biologists made the discovery. What a fine thing it would be for the

biologist if he could learn the secret of thus preserving living animals

instead of the stiff, discolored and uninteresting alcoholic specimens.

Then think of the economic value of such a discovery. Animals could be

fattened in summer at much smaller expense and then injected and set

away until needed. We would have no more difficulty in providing our

armies with beef on the hoof, and fresh meat could be shipped at much

less expense over long distances, as no ice would be necessary. We would

have no more complaint of embalmed beef and putrid canned goods.

The common mud wasp that builds in old garrets fills his nest with a

species of spider much relished by the young wasp and exhibits much

judgment in supplying exactly the right number to provide for the

growing wasp until he is able to sally forth and seize prey for himself.

These spiders—often seventeen or eighteen of them—are stupefied in the

same manner as in the case of the potter wasp, and are living when the

young wasp begins his repast. This habit is peculiar to many species of

wasp and is, I think, worthy of careful study. I wish I had space to

tell of the almost fiendish ingenuity that certain parasites show in

maintaining themselves at the expense of their hosts.

The ground hog has a knack of spending his winter in a way that is at

once economical and pleasant. They generally hibernate in pairs, rolling

themselves up into balls. They do not seem to breathe or to perform any

of the life functions during their long six months’ sleep. There is, I

fear, no foundation of fact for the ancient fiction of the ground hog

appearing and making weather prognostications on the second of February.

A gentleman writing in the New York Sun of some years since says: “I

took the trouble once to dig into a woodchuck’s burrow on Candlemas day,

and a warm, cloudy day it was; just such a day when the ground hog is

said to come out of his hole and stay out. I found two woodchucks in the

burrow, with no more signs of life about them than if they had been shot

and killed. From all outward appearances I could have taken them out and

had a game of football with them without their knowing it.”

Nor is it true that hibernating animals live upon their accumulated fat,

for digestion, as well as other active life processes, ceases.

Hibernating animals always begin their long sleep upon an empty stomach,

and food injected into their stomach is not digested. The fat

disappears, it is true, but it is not in any strict sense digested. Any

experienced hunter is aware that unless the entrails are removed from

the shot rabbit the fat will disappear from about the kidneys. The fat

may, and no doubt does, assist in some way in the long sleep. It may act

as fuel to keep up the right living temperature. At any rate, it is true

that hibernating animals eat voraciously and grow very fat just before

they go to sleep. It is a peculiar fact that many hibernating animals

bring forth their young during this period. This is especially true of

woodchucks and bears. It is a common experience with hunters that only

male bears are killed during the winter season.

Mr. Andrew Fuller of Ridgewood, New Jersey, according to the article

above quoted, had an interesting experience with a pair of Rocky

Mountain ground squirrels. After missing them for a month he

accidentally found them curled up under some straw, apparently frozen

stiff. He brought them to the house to show his wife the misfortune that

had befallen his pets. Soon they seemed to thaw out and scampered about

as lively as ever. No sooner were they put out in the cold than they

resumed their sleep, which continued all winter, their bodies

maintaining a fairly constant temperature, seldom falling below three

degrees above the freezing point of water. They came out in the spring

as chipper as if they had been asleep but one night. Many hibernating

animals will if wakened by being placed in a warm room, eat eagerly, but

they soon show a desire to resume their nap.

The Loir, a peculiar little native of Senegal, never hibernates in its

native clime, but every specimen brought to Europe becomes torpid when

exposed to cold. The common land tortoise—wherever he may be and he is a

voracious eater of almost anything—always goes to sleep in November, and

wakes some time in May.

Just as in the north numerous animals hibernate upon approach of cold,

so in the south there are species that may be said to estivate during

the hottest weather. While the northern animals curl up so as to retain

heat, his southern cousin straightens out as much as possible to allow

the heat to escape from all parts of the body.

But it was not my intention to write an essay upon hibernation and

allied phenomena, but merely to speak of it as a subject that should be

investigated. What a splendid arrangement it would be for the poor, the

sick, and the melancholy folk if they could just hibernate for six

months occasionally.

I will merely speak of the light of the so called lightning bug, with

its over ninety per centum efficiency and no heat and no consumption of

fuel to speak of. Why doesn’t some genius learn her language and find

out how she does it? She has been trying for centuries to demonstrate it

but we are too stupid to learn her secret.

Rowland Watts.

THE GREAT-TAILED GRACKLE.

(_Quiscalus macrourus._)

The Great-tailed Grackle belongs to a family of birds that is “eminently

characteristic of the New World, all the species being peculiar to

America.” It is the family of the blackbird and oriole, of the bobolink

and the meadowlark. It is called the Icteridae, from a Greek word

ikteros, meaning a yellow bird. The majority of the one hundred and

fifty or more species that are grouped in this family make their home in

the tropics where their brilliant colors are emphasized by the ever

green foliage and the bright sunshine.

The family is interesting because the species, though closely related,

vary so widely in their habits. They “are found living in ground of

every nature, from dry plains and wet marshes to the densest forest

growth.” Here are classed some of the birds which are among the most

beautiful of our songsters. Here, too, are classed some species that

never utter a musical sound, and whose voices are harsh and rough. The

sexes are usually dissimilar, the female being the smaller and generally

much duller in color.

The Great-tailed Grackle is a native of Eastern Texas, and the country

southward into Central America. The Grackles are sometimes called Crow

Blackbirds. There are five species, all found in the United States, The

Bronzed and the Purple Grackles are the most generally distributed and

best known.

The Great-tailed Grackle, as well as the other species, usually builds

rude and bulky nests in trees, sometimes at quite a height from the

ground. It will also nest in shrubs and it is said that it will

occasionally select holes in large trees. The males are an iridescent

black in color and the females are brown and much smaller. Both sexes

spend most of their time on the ground. Their feet are strong and large,

and, when upon the ground, they walk or run and never hop.

Birds and Nature Vol. 09 No. 2 [February 1901] · 第 7 / 25 题