(in so far as land animals are concerned), in even a higher degree
than by the limited number of its native species. This is readily
explained by the generally arid character of its interior, the
scantiness of the native vegetation, and the consequent difficulty
of finding food. The traveler may frequently pass over many hundred
miles of country without meeting with a single quadruped, and
almost without finding the traces of a single land animal. Its
characteristics in the latter regard are undergoing, however, a rapid
change: the horse and the ox, introduced by the European settlers,
have in some cases reverted to a state of nature, and a herd of wild
cattle is now not infrequently met with beyond the ordinary limits of
the settlers’ range.
The ornithology of Australia is richer and more varied than other
branches of its animal life. Its chief distinction consists in the
vast proportion of suctorial birds--that is, such birds as derive
their principal support from sucking the nectar of flowers. This
peculiar organization, restricted in Africa, India, and America to
the smallest birds in creation, is here developed very generally,
and belongs to species that are as large as an English thrush. The
melliphagidæ, or honey-suckers, take the place of the humming-birds
of the New World: like all the family to which they belong, they
have the tongue terminating in a brush-like bundle of very slender
filaments, with which they suck the nectar of flowers.
Among the native Australian birds are a vast number of the parrot
tribe, comprehending paroquets, cockatoos, and others, many of them
distinguished by the most beautiful plumage. Of birds of prey,
eagles, falcons, and hawks are numerous, as well as several owls.
The largest among the feathered tribes of Australia is the emu, or
cassowary--a bird of the ostrich kind, though of rather inferior size
to the African ostrich. It is found chiefly in the southern portions
of the continent, but is yearly becoming scarcer under the advance of
the settlers.[10]
The scattered islands of the Pacific which, under the name of
Polynesia, constitute, in modern geography, one of the divisions of
the globe, can hardly be regarded as a distinct zoological region,
so obviously has their animal life been derived from other lands.
When first visited by European navigators, little more than a century
since, the largest quadruped found in the Polynesian groups was
the hog, which had probably accompanied the tribes of mankind by
whom they were peopled. The only other land animals were the dog,
mouse, and lizard, with a few rats. There were but few reptiles, or
insects; fleas, scorpions, cockroaches, and other vermin have since
been introduced.
The native fauna of New Zealand is hardly less scanty than that of
the smaller groups of the Pacific. The largest animal found there
by the first European settlers was the pig, which is probably not
indigenous, though it has reverted to a state of nature. Dogs are the
only beasts of prey: a few rats and mice complete the list of its
Mammalia. There are no marsupials, though New Zealand is nearer by
many thousand miles to Australia than to any of the other continents.
The feathered tribes are equally few in number, but they include
at least one species--now fast approaching extinction--the apteryx
(wingless bird), which has no representative elsewhere. The moa, a
bird of the ostrich kind, appears to have become extinct within the
Nineteenth Century.
CETACEA
--PETER MARK ROGET
Remarkable exemplifications of the law of uniformity of organic
structure are furnished by the family of the Cetacea, which includes
the whale, the cachalot, the dolphin, and the porpoise, and exhibits
the most elementary forms of the type of the Mammalia, of which they
represent the early or rudimental stage of development. Here, as
before, we have to seek these first elements among the inhabitants
of the water: for whenever, in our progress through the animal
kingdom, we enter upon a new division, aquatic tribes are always
found to compose the lowest links of the ascending chain. Here,
also, we observe organic development proceeding with more rapidity,
and raising structures of greater dimensions in aquatic than in
terrestrial animals. The order Cetacea comprises by far the largest
animals which inhabit the globe. Whatever may have been the magnitude
of those huge monsters which once moved in the bosom of the primeval
ocean, or stalked with gigantic strides across antediluvian plains,
and whose scattered remains bear fearful testimony of the convulsions
of a former world, certain it is that, at the present day, the whales
of the northern seas are the most colossal of the living animal
structures existing on the surface of this planet.
A cursory survey of the organization of the tribes belonging to
this semi-amphibious family will impress us with the resemblance
they bear to fishes; for they present the same oval outline of the
body, the same compact form of the trunk, which is united with the
head without an intervening neck; the same fin-like shape of the
external instruments of motion and the same enormous expansion and
prolongation of the tail, which is here also, as in fishes, the chief
agent in progression. With all this agreement in external characters,
their internal economy is conducted upon a totally different plan;
for although constantly inhabiting the ocean, their vital organs are
so constructed as to admit of their breathing only the air of the
atmosphere, and the consequences which flow from this difference are
of great importance. The necessity of aerial respiration compels them
to rise, at short intervals, to the surface of the water; and this
air, with which they fill their lungs in respiration, gives their
bodies the buoyant force that is required to facilitate their ascent,
and supersedes the necessity of a swimming bladder, an organ which is
so useful to the fish.
With the intent of diminishing still further their specific gravity,
Nature has provided that a large quantity of oily fluid shall
be collected under the skin, a provision which answers, also,
the purpose of preserving the vital warmth of the body. A great
accumulation of this lighter substance is formed on the upper part
of the head, apparently with a view to facilitate the elevation to
the surface of the blowing hole, or orifice of the nostrils, which is
placed there.[11]
Another peculiarity of conformation, in which the Cetacea differ from
fishes, and which has also an obvious relation to their peculiar
mode of breathing, is in the form of the tail, which, instead of
being compressed laterally and inflected from side to side, as
in fishes, is flattened horizontally, and strikes the water in a
vertical direction, thereby giving the body a powerful impulsion,
either toward the surface, when the animal is constrained to rise, or
downward, when, by diving, it hastens to escape from danger.
All the essential and permanent parts of the skeleton of vertebrated
animals, that is, the spinal column, and its immediate dependencies,
the skull, the caudal prolongation, and the ribs are found in
that of the Cetacea. The thorax is carried very much forward,
especially in the whale, and the neck is so short as to be scarcely
recognizable: for the object of the conformation is here, as in
that of the fish, to allow free scope for the movements of the tail
and ample space for the lodgment of its muscles. For the purpose
of giving greater power and more extensive attachment to these
muscles, the transverse processes of the dorsal and lumbar vertebræ
are expanded both in length and breadth, and, being situated
horizontally, offer no impediment to the vertical flexure of the
spine. For the same reason the ribs are continued in a line with the
transverse processes, and articulated with their extremities, thus
giving still further breadth to the trunk.
As there is a total absence of hinder extremities, so there is no
enlargement of any of the vertebræ corresponding to a sacrum, and
the caudal vertebræ are uninterrupted continuations of those of the
trunk. They develop, however, parts which are met with only among
fishes and reptiles, namely, arches composed of inferior leaves
and spinous processes, inclosing and giving protection to a large
artery. Although the bones of the legs do not exist, yet there are
found, in the hinder and lower part of the trunk, concealed in the
flesh, and quite detached from the spine, two small bones, apparently
corresponding to pelvic bones, for the presence of which no more
probable reason can be assigned than the tendency to preserve an
analogy with the more developed structures of the same type.
A similar adherence to the law of uniformity in the plan of
construction of all the animals belonging to the same class, is
strikingly shown in the conformation of the bones of the anterior
extremities of the Cetacea; for, although they present, externally,
no resemblance to the leg and foot of a quadruped, being fashioned
into fin-like members, with a flat, oval surface for striking the
water, yet, when the bones are stripped of the thick integument which
covers them and conceals their real form, we find them exhibiting
the same divisions into carpal and metacarpal bones, and phalanges
of fingers, as exist in the most highly developed organization, not
merely of a quadruped, but also of a monkey, and even of man.
HUNTING AND FISHING OF ANIMALS
--FRÉDÉRIC HOUSSAY
The search for food has necessarily been the cause of the earliest
industries among animals. It is easy to understand that the herbivora
need little ingenuity in seeking nourishment; they are so superior
to their prey that they can obtain it and feed on it by the sole
fact of an organization adapted to its assimilation. They are, it is
true, at the mercy of circumstances over which they have no control,
and which lead to famine. The carnivora also may have to suffer from
the absence of prey, but even in the most favorable seasons, and
in the regions where the animals on which they live abound, it is
necessary for them to develop a special activity to obtain possession
of beings who are suspicious, prompt in flight, and as fleet as
themselves. Thus it is among these that we expect to find the art of
hunting most cultivated; especially if we put aside the more grossly
carnivorous of them, whose whole organization is adapted for rapid
and effective results.
The most rudimentary method of hunting in ambush is simply to
take advantage of some favorable external circumstance to obtain
concealment, and then to await the approach of the prey. Some animals
place themselves behind a tuft of grass, others thrust themselves
into a thicket, or hang on to the branch of a tree in order to fall
suddenly on the victim who innocently approaches the perfidious
ambush. The crocodile, as described by Sir Samuel Baker, conceals
himself by his skill in plunging noiselessly. On the bank a group of
birds have alighted. They search the mud for insects or worms, or
simply approach the stream to drink or bathe. In spite of his great
size and robust appetite the crocodile does not disdain this slight
dish; but the least noise, the least wrinkle on the surface of the
water would cause the future repast to vanish. The reptile plunges,
the birds continue without suspicion to come and go. Suddenly there
emerges before them the huge open jaw armed with formidable teeth. In
the moment of stupor and immobility which this unforeseen apparition
produces a few imprudent birds have disappeared within the reptile’s
mouth, while the others fly away. In the same sly and brutal manner
he snaps up dogs, horses, oxen, and even men who come to the river to
drink.
One of the most dangerous ambushes which can be met on the road by
animals who resort to a spring is that prepared by the python. This
gigantic snake hangs by his tail to the branch of a tree and lets
himself droop down like a long creeper. The victim who comes within
his reach is seized, enrolled, pounded in the knots which the snake
forms around him. It is not necessary to multiply examples of this
simple and widespread method of hunting.
Not content with utilizing the natural arrangements they meet with,
there are animals which construct genuine ambushes, acting thus like
man, who builds in the middle or on the edge of ponds, cabins in
which to await wild ducks, or who digs in the path of a lion a hole
covered with trunks of trees, at the bottom of which he may kill
the beast without danger. Certain insects practice this method of
hunting. The fox, for instance, so skilful a hunter in many respects,
constructs an ambush when hunting hares.
The larva of the tiger beetle (Cicindela campestris) constructs a
hole about the size of a feather quill, disposed vertically, and of
a depth, enormous for its size, of forty centimetres. It maintains
itself in this tube by arching its supple body along the walls at
a height sufficient for the top of its head to be level with the
surface of the soil, and to close the opening of the hole. A little
insect--an ant, a young beetle, or something similar--passes. As soon
as it begins to walk on the head of the larva, the latter letting go
its hold of the wall allows itself to fall to the bottom of the trap,
dragging its victim with it. In this narrow prison it is easily able
to obtain the mastery over its prey, and to suck out the liquid parts.
The Staphilinus Cæsareus acts with still greater shrewdness; not
only is his pit more perfect, but he takes care to remove all
traces of preceding repasts which might render the place obviously
one of carnage. He chooses a stone, beneath which he hollows a
cylindro-conical hole with extremely smooth walls. This hole is
not to serve as a trap, that is to say that the proprietor has no
intention of causing any pedestrian to roll to the bottom. It is
simply a place of concealment in which he awaits the propitious
moment. No creature is more patient than this insect, and no delay
discourages him. As soon as some small animal approaches his
hiding-place he throws himself on it impetuously, kills it, and
devours it. Near his ditch he has hollowed a second of a much coarser
character, the walls of which have not been smoothed with the same
care. One here sees elytra and claws piled up; they are the hard and
horny parts which he has not been able to eat. The heap in this ditch
is not then an alimentary store. It is the _oubliette_ in which the
Staphilinus buries the remains of his victims. If he allowed them to
accumulate around his hole all pedestrians would come to fear this
spot and to avoid it. It would be like the dwelling of a polypus,
which is marked by the numerous carapaces of crabs and shells which
strew the neighborhood.
The ambuscade of the ant-lion is classic; it does not differ greatly
from the others. He excavates a conical pitfall, in which he conceals
himself, and seizes the unfortunate ants and other insects whom
ill-chance causes to roll into it.
A variety of ambush which brings the baited ambush method of hunting
to considerable perfection lies in inciting the prey to approach the
hiding-place instead of trusting to chance to bring it there. In such
circumstances man places some allurement in the neighborhood--that is
to say, one of the foods preferred by the desired victim, or at least
some object which recalls the form of that food, as, for example, an
artificial fly to obtain possession of certain fishes.
It is curious to find that fish themselves utilize this system; it is
the method adopted by the angler and the Uranoscopus. The Uranoscopus
scaber lives in the Mediterranean. At the end of his lower jaw there
is developed a mobile and supple filament which he is able to use
with the greatest dexterity. Concealed in the mud, without moving and
only allowing the end of his head to emerge, he agitates and vibrates
his filament. The little fishes who prowl in the neighborhood,
delighted with the sight of this apparent worm, regarding it as a
destined prey, throw themselves on to it, but before they are able to
bite and recognize their error they have disappeared in the mouth of
the proprietor of the bait.
The angler (Lophius piscatorius) has not usurped his rather
paradoxical name. He retires to the midst of the sea-weed and algæ.
On his body and all round his head he bears fringed appendages which,
by their resemblance to the leaves of marine plants, aid the animal
to conceal himself. The color of his body also does not contrast
with neighboring objects. From his head arise three movable filaments
formed by three spines detached from the upper fin. He makes use
of the anterior one, which is the longest and most supple. Working
in the same way as the Uranoscopus, the angler agitates his three
filaments, giving them as much as possible the appearance of worms,
and thus attracting the little fish on which he feeds.
All these methods of hunting or of fishing by surprises are for the
most part practiced by the less agile species which can not obtain
their prey by superior fleetness. Midway between these two methods
may be placed that which consists in surprising game when some
circumstance has rendered it motionless. Sometimes it is sleep which
places it at the mercy of the hunter, whose art in this case consists
in seeking out its dwelling. Sometimes he profits by the youth of the
victim, like all bird-nesters, whose aim is to eat the eggs or to
devour the young while still incapable of flying. The animals who eat
birds’ eggs are numerous both among mammals and reptiles, as well as
among birds themselves.
The alligator of Florida and of Louisiana delights in this chase.
He seeks in particular the great boat-tail (Quiscalus major) which
nests in the reeds at the edge of marshes and ponds. When the young
have come out and are expecting from their parents the food which
the chances of the hunt may delay, they do not cease chirping and
calling by their cries. But the parents are not alone in hearing
these appeals. They may also strike the ears of the alligator, who
furtively approaches the imprudent singers. With a sudden stroke of
his tail he strikes the reeds and throws into the water one or more
of the hungry young ones, who are then at his mercy.
The animals who feed on species living in societies either seize
on their prey when isolated or when all the members of the colony
are united in their city. A search for the nest is necessary in
the case of creatures who are very small in comparison with the
hunter, as in the case of ants and the ant-eater. But the ant-eater
possesses a very long and sticky tongue, which renders the capture
of these insects extremely easy; when he finds a frequented passage
it is enough to stretch out his tongue; all the ants come of their
own accord and place themselves on it, and when it is sufficiently
charged he withdraws it and devours them. The African Orycteropus,
who is also a great eater of ants and especially of termites, is
equally aided by a very developed tongue; but he has less patience
than the ant-eater, and he adds to this resource other proceedings
which render the hunt more fruitful and enable him to obtain a very
large number of insects at one time. Thanks to his keenness of scent
he soon discovers an ant-path bearing the special and characteristic
odor which these Hymenoptera leave behind them, and he follows the
track which leads to their nest. On arriving there, without troubling
himself about the scattered insects that prowl in the neighborhood,
he sets himself to penetrate into the midst of the dwelling, and with
his strong claws hollows out a passage which enables him to gain
access. On the way he pierces walls, breaks down floors, gathering
here and there some fugitives, and arrives at last at the centre,
in which millions of animals swarm. He then swallows them in large
mouthfuls and retires, leaving behind him a desert and a ruin in
the spot before occupied by a veritable palace, full of prodigious
activity.
The colonies are not only exposed to the devastations of those who
feed on their members; they have other enemies in the animals who
covet their stores of food. The most inveterate robber of bees is the
nocturnal Death’s Head moth. When he has succeeded in penetrating the
hive the stings of the proprietors who throw themselves on him do not
trouble him, thanks to his thick fleece of long hairs which the sting
can not penetrate; he makes his way to the cells, rips them open,
gorges himself with honey, and causes such havoc that in Switzerland,
in certain years when these butterflies were abundant, numbers of
hives have been found absolutely empty. Many other marauders and
of larger size, such as the bear, also spread terror among these
laborious insects and empty their barns. No animal is more crafty
than the raven, and the fabulist who wished to make him a dupe was
obliged to oppose to him the very cunning fox in order to render the
tale fairly life-like. A great number of stories are told concerning
the raven’s cleverness, and many of them are undoubtedly true. There
is no bolder robber of nests. He swallows the eggs and eats the
little ones of the species who can not defend themselves against him;
he even seeks the eggs of sea-gulls on the coast; but in this case
he must use cunning, for if he is discovered it means a serious
battle. On the coast also the raven seeks to obtain possession of
the hermit-crab. This crustacean dwells in the empty shells of
gasteropods. At the least alarm he retires within this shell and
becomes invisible, but the bird advances with so much precaution
that he is often able to seize the crab before he has time to hide
himself. If the raven fails he turns the shell over and over until
the impatient crustacean allows a claw to emerge; he is then seized
and immediately devoured.
If there is a question of hunting larger game like a hare, the raven
prefers to take an ally. They start him at his burrow and pursue him
flying. In spite of his proverbial rapidity the hare is scarcely able
to flee more than two hundred yards. He succumbs beneath vigorous
blows on his skull from the beaks of his assailants. During winter,
in the high regions of the Alps, when the soil is covered with snow,
this chase is particularly fruitful for ravens. The story is told of
that unfortunate hare who had hollowed out in the snow a burrow with
two entrances. Two of these birds having recognized his presence, one
entered one hole in order to dislodge the hare, the other awaited him
at the other opening to batter his head with blows from his beak and
kill him before he had time to gain presence of mind.
Rooks sometimes hunt in burrows by ingeniously concerted operations.
Mr. Bernard has described the interesting way in which the rook hunts
voles or field-mice in Thuringia. His curiosity was excited by the
way in which numerous rooks stood about a field cawing loudly. In a
few days this was explained: the field was covered with rooks; the
original assemblage had been calling together a mouse-hunt, which
could only be successfully carried out by a large number of birds
acting in conjunction. By diligently probing the ground and blocking
up the network of runs, the voles, one or more at a time, were
gradually driven into a corner. The hunt was very successful, and no
more voles were seen in that field during the winter.
Other animals are not easily discouraged by the swiftness of their
prey; they count on their own resistance in order to tire the game;
some of them also manage their pursuit in the most intelligent way,
so as to preserve their own strength while the tracked animal’s
strength goes on diminishing until exhaustion and fatigue place him
at their mercy.
Mammals especially, such as dogs, wolves, and foxes, exercise this
kind of chase; it is, exactly, the coursing which man has merely had
to direct for his own benefit. Wild dogs pursue their prey united in
immense packs. They excite each other by barking while they frighten
the game and half paralyze his efforts. No animal is agile and strong
enough to be sure of escaping. They surround him and cut off his
retreat in a most skilful manner; gazelles and antelopes, in spite
of their extreme nimbleness and speed, are caught at last; boars are
rapidly driven into a corner; their vigorous defence may cost the
life of some of the assailants, but they nevertheless become the prey
of the band who rush on to the quarry. In Asia wild dogs do not fear
even to attack the tiger.