Burrowed holes are made by sand-martins, bee-eaters, penguins,

kingfishers, and many others. The prairie-owl, living in the burrows

of the prairie-dog and of the armadillo, is a well-known example of

peculiar habit, and in the first case of curious partnership. Ground

nests, generally of the simplest character, with rough and scanty

accumulation of nest material, are made by swans, ducks, geese,

fowls, gulls, waterhens, corncrakes, etc. Mud nests, constructed from

damp earth, are well illustrated by the house-swallows, blue-creeper,

flamingo, etc. The common singing thrush is well known to make a

firm nest of clay and cow-dung mixed with moss. Carpenter-nests,

formed with more or less preparation in the holes of trees, are

used by woodpeckers and a few other arboreal birds. Platform nests,

simply consisting of flat seats, are formed by the ring and turtle

doves, by eagles, storks, and cranes. In some parts of the Continent

the flat nests formed by the storks on the tops of buildings are

familiar enough objects. Basket nests are such loosely interwoven

constructions of grass, stems, twigs, etc., as are made by the

crows, missel-thrushes, and most singing birds. The green weaving

birds (Ploceus pensilis) hang their loosely woven nests, with

downward directed opening, on the Madagascar trees. The South African

republican birds (Philitærus socius) form hundreds of hanging nests

on the branches, under the shelter of a common thatch. Woven nests

are the more delicately constructed and really woven constructions

of wool, hair, bark, grass, etc., which are made by such birds as

the goldfinch, the Baltimore bird, and very many others. Sewed

nests, composed of leaves sewed together by the beak as needle, are

well illustrated by various species of Icterus, and by the Indian

tailor-bird (Orthotomus bennetii). Felt-work nests are woven from

the wool of plants or animals, sometimes with other material in

addition; the humming-birds and the bullfinch form beautiful nests

of this fashion. Cement nests are bound together by a viscid and

very adhesive secretion, which is mixed with saliva, and used to

glue the materials of the nest together. The nests of the American

swallow, the edible birds’ nests of the Salangani, sought after as

luxuries by Chinese and others, are of this cemented type. Dome or

moss nests are roofed in above and have an entrance on the side. The

common wren, the water-wagtail, and the tits build on this principle.

The beautiful bottle-shaped nest of the titmouse is one of the

best examples. The parasite habit is well known among cuckoos and

cowbirds. The nest of another bird is utilized to the future loss

of the rightful inmates, and with obvious economy of labor on the

part of the intruders. Thus sparrows usurp the nests of swallows,

and starlings those of woodpeckers. Pheasant and partridge eggs are

sometimes found in the same nest, and the same has been observed

in many cases--_e. g._, gull and eider-duck. When artificial nests

are forthcoming, birds are glad to be relieved of the labor of

construction, and different birds thus sometimes share a common box.

The resorts of birds, when convenient nooks are available, are often

extremely curious.

It is a well-known fact that comparatively few birds (at any rate

outside of the tropics) remain in the same place all the year round.

They do not hibernate, but migrate on the approach of cold. Some we

know as winter visitors, returning north again in spring, most we

know only in summer, for in autumn they fly to the warmer south; a

third set we call “birds of passage”; for these we only know somewhat

incidentally as they pass through on their way elsewhere.

[Illustration: Birds of all Climes

1, Crested Grebe (_Podiceps_); 2, Toucan; 3, Hoopoe; 4, Parrot

(_Melopsittacus_); 5, Barn Owl; 6, Crested Penguin; 7, King Vulture;

8, Ruff (_Pavoucella_); 9, Horned Owl; 10, Wood Duck; 11, Kingfisher;

12, Capuchin Bird; 13, Grouse; 14, Spoonbill; 15, California Quail]

Thus the swallow, the cuckoo, the nightingale, etc., come to Britain

in summer and breed there, being winter residents further south; the

fieldfare, jacksnipe, bean-goose, redwing, and some others, reach

Great Britain in winter, being summer residents and breeders further

north; while the little sandpipers are familiar examples of the true

birds of passage which we know only for a short time as they rest on

our shores in the journey south in autumn, and north again in spring.

These three classes are obviously only different cases of one fact of

migration. Almost all birds are in some degree migratory. Those

which breed in the equatorial regions are the chief exceptions,

and even they pass from hill to valley and back again. Forms, too,

which seem to be constant residents of a non-tropical country are

in many cases known to exhibit a partial or a very local migration.

This is true, for instance, of the common wren and the red grouse

in the north of Scotland. All birds breed in the colder regions

of their migration. Changes in food supply and the temperature

are the most important conditions impelling them to shift their

habitats. The general trend of migration is always, as indicated,

toward the equator in autumn, from the equator in spring; but the

investigations of the British Migration Committee have clearly shown

that the courses often come to be circular. The flight is the more

universal in a country the more marked the contrast between summer

and winter. The annual migration from breeding areas too cold for

winter residence and food supply to warmer subsistence areas can not

be understood apart from the history of climates. When the European

climate was more equable, it was virtually indifferent to the birds

where they went. As it grew colder the birds had to fly further and

further south every few winters. Migration has become an inherited

habit, for they set about it before the impelling conditions are

directly present. According to Wallace, natural selection has

played an important part in confirming this habit. Many facts about

migration are still utterly obscure. The power birds have of flying

straight and of returning to the same locality is very marvelous. It

must be remembered that a continuous tradition is sustained; those

who have made the journey before guide the others. Doubtless they

have memory for great landmarks. They fly across the shallower parts

of the Mediterranean, where a chain of islands in this submerged

tract long remained to guide them. The smaller birds usually keep

nearer the ground; but it must not be forgotten that the flight

is usually mostly accomplished by night. Birds generally meet in

concourses, and migrate in flocks. Only a few fly alone. Sometimes

the old males remain, while the others “flit.” The return northward

is more rapid, without young ones or weaklings. The males often

return first.

As birds have a full active life, with considerable variety of

function, in usually complex environment, since, as we have already

noticed, their sense-organs and nervous systems are highly developed,

considerable exhibition of intelligence is to be expected. They seem

to have great vividness of sense impressions, to judge from their

power of recalling old haunts and old friends. Birds often return

to the same place season after season, and they have been known to

recognize an owner after the lapse of years. Their quickness of ear

and power of retention are evidenced by the power some possess of

learning to repeat sounds, both words and tunes. Some have exhibited

marked fondness for music, and the æsthetic tastes of the bower-bird

excite deserved admiration. Much more is known in regard to their

marvelous hereditary, general, and largely automatic reasonable

habits or “instincts” than in regard to their power of individually

adapting their conduct to novel circumstances. Their beautiful and

adroit contrivances of nest-building are very familiar instances of

the former, but many instances of the latter have been recorded.

As to feelings, it is hardly necessary to refer to their unexampled

exhibition of sexual emotion in song and dance, parade, and display,

or to the marvelous parental love and sacrifice expressed in their

nest-building labors, in their prolonged incubation, and in their

care for and courage in defending their brood. Subtler emotions of

jealousy, both in connection with and altogether apart from sex, of

affection for owners or associations, of sympathy for wounded or

enfeebled fellows, are also not rarely exhibited. That a bird singing

continuously for hours does not represent a rare height of emotion

is not to be believed. It may be fairly said that the joyous song of

the lark “at heaven’s gate” is an eloquent expression of emotion only

surpassed perhaps by human music.

MIMICRY

--DAVID ROBERTSON

In ordinary language a person who can imitate the accent, manner

of talking, and acting of another is said to be a good mimic. In

biology, however, the term mimicry is used in a metaphorical sense,

being applied to the resemblance which one species of animal or

plant frequently shows to another. This resemblance is usually

of a protective character. It is evident that if the resemblance

which a defenceless species of animal often has to a species well

furnished with natural offensive and defensive weapons were a mere

freak of nature, no satisfactory and philosophical explanation of the

phenomenon could be given.

Scientific investigators have to lay aside their wonder, and

laboriously set about finding a solution to the most intricate and

puzzling phenomena both in natural and physical science.

Mimicry was first used by Mr. W. H. Bates to denote the advantageous

and generally protective resemblance assumed by one species of animal

or plant to another.

It will be seen further on that the resemblance is not confined to

one species of animal to another species of animal, and one species

of plant to a plant of quite a distinct species, but that it also

exists between animals and plants.

Mr. A. R. Wallace, who, by his most patient and skilful researches

in the domain of animal life, has clearly defined and limited the

term mimicry as applied in biology, says: “A certain species of plant

or animal possesses some special means of defence from its enemies,

such as a sting, a powerful and disagreeable odor, a nauseous taste,

or a hard integument or covering. Some other species, inhabiting the

same district or part of it, and not itself provided with the same

means of defence, closely resembles the first species in all external

points of form and color, though often very different in structure

and unrelated in the biological order.”

In South America there are certain butterflies, the Heliconidæ,

which are remarkable for the variety and beauty of their colors;

but they are incapable of rapid and sustained flight, and would for

this reason fall an easy prey to insect-eating birds. Their wings,

however, are never found among those rejected by insectivorous

birds--in places where the remains of other butterflies frequently

cover the ground. The Heliconidæ possess a powerfully disagreeable

and pungent odor, which is so little volatile as to cling to the

fingers for several days after handling one of these insects. Mr.

Wallace inferred from this that they have a disagreeable taste, and

would not on that account be eaten by birds. This was subsequently

found by Mr. Belt to be the case.

Belonging to the family of the Pieridæ, which is quite distinct from

the family of the Heliconidæ, and the greater number of which are

white, there is a genus of small butterfly named Leptalis, which is

eaten by birds. Some species of the genus Leptalis are white, like

their allies among the Pieridæ, but the majority of the Leptales have

an exact resemblance to some species of the Heliconidæ as far as

regards the peculiar shape and color of their wings.

The structure of the two families is completely different; in

spite of this the resemblance is so strikingly close that both the

experienced entomologists Mr. Bates and Mr. Wallace often at the

time of capture mistook the one for the other, and only discovered

their mistake by a closer examination. This has been looked upon as

the most typical example of true mimicry, and is interesting from

the fact that it is the first instance to which the term mimicry was

applied.

It is necessary to distinguish carefully between true mimicry and

several similar though superficial modes of resemblance which occur

among organic beings. Several orchids resemble flies or spiders, but

this is merely a case of accidental resemblance.

Among animals of a higher order than insects mimicry very seldom

occurs.

Among mammals, all of which belong to the vertebrates, mimicry is

seldom found, and it is supposed that only one genuine case has been

observed.

Cladobates, an insect-eating genus found in the Malayan region,

includes many species closely resembling squirrels both in size and

color, as well in regard to the bushiness and position of the tail.

It is supposed by Mr. Wallace that Cladobates, owing to its

resemblance to the harmless fruit-eating squirrel, may be enabled to

approach insects and birds upon which it lives.

Cuckoos bear a considerable resemblance to hawks; the cuckoo tribe

being weak and defenceless will in this way be enabled to elude the

voracious hawks.

There is a genus of dull-colored birds in Australia and the Moluccas

named Tropidorhynchus. These birds are large, active, and strong,

with powerful claws and sharp beaks. They congregate in flocks, and

are remarkably aggressive, driving away crows and even hawks.

In these same countries a genus of the group orioles lives, named

Mimeta. These are much weaker than their allies the golden orioles,

and besides are devoid of their brilliant colors, being usually

olive-green or brown. It is a very common thing to find species of

the Mimeta resembling Tropidorhynchi living on the same island.

The Tropidorhynchus bouruensis and Mimeta bouruensis are both found

in the island of Bouru, the latter of which mimics the former as

described by Mr. Wallace:

“The upper and under surfaces of the two birds are exactly of

the same tints of dark and light brown. The Tropidorhynchus has

a large, bare, black patch round the eyes; this is copied in the

Mimeta by a patch of black feathers. The top of the head of the

Tropidorhynchus has a scaly appearance from the narrow scaly-formed

feathers, which are imitated by the broader feathers of the Mimeta,

having a dusky line down each. The Tropidorhynchus has a pale ruff,

formed of curious recurved feathers on the nape (which has given

the whole genus the name of friar birds); this is represented in

the Mimeta by a pale band in the same position. Lastly, the bill of

the Tropidorhynchus is raised into a protuberant keel at the base,

and that of the Mimeta has the same character, although it is not

a common one in the genus.” The result is that when superficially

examined the birds seem to be identical, though possessed of

important structural differences, and placed wide apart in any

natural arrangement.

Mr. Wallace mentions some curious cases of mimicry among reptiles,

where a venomous tropical genus of snakes, Elaps, belonging to

America, is closely mimicked by several genera of harmless snakes.

It is in a special degree among insects that cases of mimicry are

most frequently found.

Genuine cases of mimicry are not so easily shown to exist among

plants. The resemblance between white dead nettle (Lamium album)

and the stinging nettle, as well as between other labiates and the

stinging nettle, may be considered to be a case of real mimicry as

defined above.

The true stinging nettles are avoided by animals, owing to their

possession of stinging hairs, which contain an acid fluid capable of

causing pain and producing blisters.

It would be clearly of advantage to another plant to resemble one

possessing such defensive armor as the stinging nettle.

There is another labiate, Ajuga ophrydis of South Africa, mentioned

by Mr. Mansel Weale. This labiate closely resembles an orchid, and

for this reason insects may be induced to visit the flower and thus

fertilize it.

Mr. Worthington Smith, the eminent fungologist, has found three rare

British fungi, each accompanying common species, which they closely

resembled; and one of the common species has a bitter nauseous taste.

In this case we have an example of genuine mimicry.

Dr. Hans Meyer has given in his valuable work, _Across East African

Glaciers_, some very striking instances of mimicry. He says:

“The similarity for the purpose of protection of the majority of the

great mammals, _i. e._, the likeness of the color of their coats, and

partly also of their external appearance, to the features and colors

of the regions which they inhabit, must strike every traveler with

astonishment.

“At a small distance the hartbeest (antelope), when stationary,

is really not distinguishable from red ant-heaps which everywhere

abound; the long-legged and long-necked giraffe can not be

distinguished from the dead trunk of a mimosa, the zebra from a

gray-brown clump of grass and thorn-scrub, the rhinoceros from a

fallen trunk of a tree. It is only when they move that they can be

distinguished. Nature has also extended this protective mimicry

(Schutzspiel) to the small insects; and perhaps for this reason they

often escape the eye specially in search of them; for butterflies and

grasshoppers look like dry twigs, the cicadæ like leaf-stalks, the

spiders like thorns, the phasmodæ like bare twigs, beetles like small

lumps of earth and small stones, moths like mosses and lichens.

“This protective mimicry is manifested not only in regard to the

colors and forms of the animals, but also as regards their movements,

or their manner of standing still, and in their preference for

certain localities appropriate to their disguise. There is protection

everywhere; protection against climatic extremes and against animal

foes; such varied and abundant protection as could only be developed

by natural selection in a primeval continent like Africa.”

In spite of the voluminous literature of “animal mimicry” since

Bates first published his classical memoir on the subject, the exact

nature of the process whereby insects and other creatures “mimic”

(though that is not the appropriate word) the appearance of other

species is still far from being understood. All we know is that this

power, this resemblance of a beetle or a butterfly to the ground upon

which it sits, the sticks among which it creeps, or the leaves among

which it flutters, helps to save it from destruction, while it is a

decided advantage to it to “mimic” another insect which is sedulously

avoided by birds. The observations in this byway of zoology are as

curious as any yet made. It is found, for instance, that an American

spider (Cyrlarachne) takes the semblance of a little land shell very

abundant in the localities which it frequents; and that another

species (Thomisus alcatorius), remarkable for the length of its

forelegs, so fastens itself on the stems of grasses as to be nearly

indistinguishable from the spikelets.

Some observations, for which we are indebted to M. Heckel of

Marseilles, throw a good deal of light on the origin of mimicry, at

least so far as the assumption of protective coloration is concerned.

There is a spider (Thomisus onustus) very common in the south of

France which conceals itself in the flower of a species of wild

convolvulus for the purpose of trapping two kinds of fly on which

it feeds. This convolvulus is found in three principal varieties:

white, pink with deeper spots of the same hue, and light pink forms

with a slight greenishness on the external wall of the flower. Each

of these three varieties is visited by the spider. But the varieties

of spider conform in hue to the varieties of the flower, and each

confines itself to the one which is most protective to it. If,

however, the animal is confined to a Dahlia versicolor, it conforms

to the hue of its new abode--that is, the pink one turns to red, and,

in like manner, if transferred to the yellow snapdragon, it takes

the color of this flower. They change in shade as the shade of their

host changes, and when pink, white, green, and yellow varieties are

confined together in a box they all become nearly white.

The question of protective coloration in fishes has of late received

some light which compels a revision of our former theories on the

subject. It has usually been held that the color of fishes is of

the mimicry order--that is, it has been acquired for the purpose of

deceiving their enemies. Trout will very commonly take the hue of

the river bottom over which they swim, and, as every one knows, it

is difficult to detect a flounder or other flat fish at rest, though

when it turns over the white under surface of its body instantly

reveals the creature’s presence. The hue of the upper surface is due

to the action of light. For when a sole was kept in a raised glass

case, with light directed upward from below, pigment formed on the

white side, and began to be absorbed on the one hitherto exposed to

the same agent.

DWELLINGS

--FRÉDÉRIC HOUSSAY

Animals construct dwellings either to protect themselves from the

cold, heat, rain, and other chances of the weather, or to retire

to at moments when the search for food does not compel them to be

outside and exposed to the attacks of enemies. Some inhabit these

refuges permanently; others only remain there during the winter;

others, again, who live during the rest of the year in the open air,

set up dwellings to bring forth their young, or to lay their eggs and

rear the offspring.

We shall find every stage, from that of beings provided for by

nature, and endowed with a special organ which secretes for them a

shelter, up to those who are constrained by necessity to seek in

their own intelligence an expedient to repair the forgetfulness of

nature.

Nearly all the Mollusca are enveloped by a very hard calcareous case,

secreted by their mantle: this shell, which is a movable house, they

bear about with them and retire into at the slightest warning.

Caterpillars which are about to be transformed into chrysalides weave

a cocoon, a very close dwelling in which they can go through their

metamorphosis far from exterior troubles. It is an organic form of

dwelling, or produced by an organ. It is not necessary to multiply

examples of this kind; they are extremely numerous. In the same

category must be ranged the cells issuing from the wax-glands which

supply bees with materials for their combs in which they inclose the

eggs of the queen with a provision of honey.

I do not wish to insist on creations of this kind which are

independent of the animal’s will and reflection. Near these facts

must be placed those in which animals, still using a natural

secretion, yet endeavor to obtain ingenious advantages from it

unknown by related species.

There is, for example, the Macropus viridiauratus, or paradise-fish,

which blows air bubbles in the mucus produced from its mouth. This

mucus becomes fairly resistant, and all the bubbles imprisoned and

sticking side by side at last form a floor. It is beneath this

floating shelter that the fish suspends its eggs for its little ones

to undergo their early development.

Certain tubicolar annelids, whose skin furnishes abundant mucus

which does not become sufficiently hard to form an efficacious

protection, utilize it to weld together and unite around them

neighboring substances, grains of sand, fragments of shell, etc. They

thus construct a case which both resembles formations by special

organs and manufacture by the aid of foreign materials. The larvæ

of Phryganea, who lead an aquatic life, use this method to separate

themselves from the world and prepare tubes in which to dwell. All

the fragments carried down by the stream are good for their labors

on condition only that they are denser than the water. They take

possession of fragments of aquatic leaves, and little fragments

of wood which have been sufficiently long in the water to have

thoroughly imbibed it, and so become heavy enough to keep themselves

at the bottom, or at least to prevent them from floating to the

surface. It is the larva of Phryganea striata which has been best

studied; those of neighboring species evidently act much in the same

way, with differences only in detail. The little carpenter stops a

fragment rather longer than his own body, lies on it and brings it

in contact with other pieces along his own sides. He thus obtains

the skeleton of a cylinder. The largest holes are filled up with

detritus of all kinds. Then these materials are agglutinated by a

special secretion. The larva overlays the interior of its tube with

a covering of soft silk which renders the cylinder water-tight and

consolidates the earlier labors. The insect is thus in possession of

a safe retreat. Resembling some piece of rubbish, it completes its

metamorphosis in peace, undisturbed by the carnivora of the stream.

Between the beings whom nature has endowed with a shelter and those

who construct it by their own industry, we may intercept those who,

deprived of a natural asylum and not having the inclination or the

power to make one, utilize the dwellings of others, either when the

latter still inhabit them, or when they are empty on account of the

death or departure of the owner. In the interior of the branchial

chamber of many bivalvular mollusca, and especially the mussel, there

lives a little crustaceous commensal called the pea-crab (Pinnoteres

pisum). He goes, comes, hunts, and retires at the least alarm within

his host’s shell. The mussel, as the price of its hospitality, no

doubt profits by the prizes which fall to the little crab’s claws. It

is even said that the crab in recognition of the benefits bestowed

by his indolent friend keeps him acquainted with what is passing on

around, and as he is much more active and alert than his companion he

sees danger much further away, and gives notice of it, asking for the

door to be shut by lightly pinching the mussel’s gill.

For birds like the cuckoo and the Molothrus it is not possible to

plead extenuating circumstances. They occupy a place in an inhabited

house without paying any sort of rent. Every one knows the cuckoo’s

audacity. The female lays her eggs in different nests and troubles

herself no further about their fate. She seeks for her offspring

a shelter which she does not take the trouble to construct, and

moreover at the same time assures for them the care of a stranger in

place of her own.

The story of the universe. Volume 4 (of 4) · 第 20 / 28 段