THE INSECT-EATERS
Next to the bats comes the important tribe of the insect-eaters,
containing a number of animals which are so called because most of them
feed chiefly upon insects.
THE COLUGO
One of the strangest of these is the colugo, which lives in Siam, Java,
and the Islands of the Malay Archipelago. It is remarkable for its
wonderful power of leaping, for it will climb a tall tree, spring
through the air, and alight on the trunk of another tree seventy or
eighty yards away. For this reason it has sometimes been called the
"flying colugo"; but it does not really fly. It merely skims from tree
to tree. And if you could examine its body you would be able to see at
once how it does so.
First of all, you would notice that the skin of the lower surface is
very loose. You know how loose the skin of a dog's neck is, and how you
can pull it up ever so far from the flesh. Well, the skin of the colugo
is quite as loose as that on the sides and lower parts of its body.
Then you would notice that this loose skin is fastened along the inner
side of each leg, so that the limbs are connected by membrane just like
the toes of a duck's foot. And you would also see that when the legs are
stretched out at right angles to the body, this membrane must be
stretched out with them.
Now when a colugo wishes to take a long leap, it springs from the tree
on which it is resting, spreads out its limbs, and skims through the air
just as an oyster-shell does if you throw it sideways from the hand. The
air buoys it up, you see, and enables it to travel ten times as far as
it could without this loose skin. But of course this is not flight. The
animal does not beat the air with the membrane between the legs,
as bats and birds do with their wings. It cannot alter its course in the
air; and it is always obliged to alight at a lower level than that from
which it sprang.
The colugo is about as big as a good-sized cat, and its fur is olive or
brown in color, mottled with whitish blotches and spots. When it clings
closely to the trunk of a tree, and remains perfectly motionless, it may
easily be overlooked, for it looks just like a patch of bark covered
with lichens and mosses. It is said to sleep suspended from a branch
with its head downward, like the bats; and whether this is the case or
not, its tail is certainly prehensile, like that of a spider-monkey. And
strangest of all, perhaps, is the fact that, although it belongs to the
group of the insect-eaters, it feeds upon leaves.
THE HEDGEHOG
In European countries, where it is common, one can scarcely walk through
the meadows on a summer's evening without seeing this curious animal as
it moves clumsily about in search of prey. There everybody is familiar
with its spiky coat, which affords such an excellent protection against
almost all its enemies.
But it is not everybody who knows how the animal raises and lowers its
spines. It has them perfectly under control; we all know that. If you
pick a hedgehog up it raises its spines at once, even if it does not
roll itself up into a ball and so cause them to project straight out
from its body in all directions. But if you keep the creature as a pet,
and treat it kindly, it will very soon allow you to handle it freely
without raising its spines at all.
The fact is this. The spines are shaped just like slightly bent pins,
each having a sort of rounded head at the base. And they are pinned, as
it were, through the skin, the heads lying underneath it. Besides this,
the whole body is wrapped up in a kind of muscular cloak, and in this
the heads of the spines are buried. So if the muscle is pulled in one
direction, the spines must stand up, because the heads are carried along
with it. If it is pulled in the other direction they must lie
down, for the same reason. And it is just by pulling this muscle in one
direction or the other that the animal raises and lowers its spines.
HEDGEHOG HABITS
The hedgehog is not often seen wandering about by day, because it is
then fast asleep, snugly rolled up in a ball under the spreading roots
of a tree, or among the dead leaves at the bottom of a hedge. But soon
after sunset it comes out from its retreat, and begins to hunt about for
food. Sometimes it will eat bird's eggs, being very fond of those of the
partridge; for which reason it is not at all a favorite with the
gamekeeper. It will devour small birds, too, if it can get them, also
lizards, snails, slugs, and insects. It has often been known to kill
snakes and to feed upon their bodies afterward. It is a cannibal, too,
at times, and will kill and eat one of its own kind. But best of all it
likes earthworms.
The number of these which it will crunch up one after another is
astonishing. "I once kept a tame hedgehog," says a naturalist, "and fed
him almost entirely upon worms; and he used to eat, on an average,
something like an ordinary jampotful every night of his life. He never
took the slightest notice of the worms as long as the daylight lasted;
but when it began to grow dark he would wake up, go sniffing about his
cage till he came to the jampot, and then stand up on his hind feet, put
his fore paws on the edge, and tip it over. And after about an hour and
a half of steady crunching, every worm had disappeared."
In many places farmers persecute the hedgehog, and kill it whenever they
have a chance of doing so. And if you ask the reason the answer is
generally to the effect that hedgehogs steal milk from sleeping cows at
night. Now it does not seem very likely that a cow would allow such a
spiky creature as a hedgehog to come and nestle up against her body.
But, on the other hand, it cannot be denied that hedgehogs are often to
be seen close by cows as they rest upon the ground. But they have not
gone there in search of milk. Don't you know what happens if you lay a
heavy weight, such as a big paving-stone, on the ground? The worms
buried under it feel the pressure, and come up to the surface in
alarm. Now a cow is a very heavy weight; so that when she lies down a
number of worms are sure to come up all round her. And the hedgehog
visits the spot in search, not of milk, but of worms!
The young of the hedgehog, which are usually four in number, do not look
in the least like their parents, and you might easily mistake them for
young birds; for their spikes are very soft and white, so that they look
much more like growing feathers. The little creatures are not only
blind, but also deaf, for several days after birth, and they cannot roll
themselves up till they have grown somewhat. The mother animal always
makes a kind of warm nest to serve as a nursery, and thatches it so
carefully that even a heavy shower of rain never seems to soak its way
through.
Strange to say, the hedgehog appears to be quite unaffected by many
kinds of poison. It will eat substances which would cause speedy death
to almost any other animal. And over and over again it has been bitten
by a viper without appearing to suffer any ill results.
In England, about the middle of October, the hedgehog retires to some
snug and well-hidden retreat, and there makes a warm nest of moss and
dry leaves. In this it hibernates, just as bats do in hollow trees, only
waking up now and then for an hour or two on very mild days, and often
passing three or four months without taking food.
SHREWS
During the earlier part of the autumn, you may very often find a curious
mouse-like little animal lying dead upon the ground. But if you look at
it carefully, you will see at once that in several respects it is quite
different from the true mice.
In the first place you will notice that its mouth is produced into a
long snout, which projects far in front of the lower jaw. Now no mouse
ever has a snout like that. Then you will find that all its teeth are
sharply pointed, while the front teeth of a mouse have broad, flat edges
specially meant for nibbling at hard substances. And, thirdly, you
will see that its tail, instead of gradually tapering to a pointed
tip, is comparatively short, and is squared in a very curious manner.
The fact is that the little animal is not a mouse at all, but a kind of
shrew, of which there are many American species. One is large, and
pushes through the top-soil like a mole. Another, smaller, is blackish,
and has a short tail. The commonest one is mouse-gray and only two
inches long plus a very long tail. It is fond of water, but has no such
interesting habits as those of the European shrew next described.
These creatures are very common almost everywhere. But we very seldom
see them alive, because they are so timid that the first sound of an
approaching footstep sends them away into hiding. Yet they are not at
all timid among themselves. On the contrary, they are most quarrelsome
little creatures, and are constantly fighting. If two shrews meet, they
are almost sure to have a battle, and if you were to try to keep two of
them in the same cage, one would be quite certain to kill and eat the
other before very long. They are not cannibals as a rule, however, for
they feed upon worms and insects, and just now and then upon snails and
slugs. And no doubt they do a great deal of good by devouring
mischievous grubs.
Why these little animals die in such numbers just at the beginning of
the autumn, nobody quite seems to know. It used to be thought that they
were killed by cats, or hawks, or owls, which refused to eat them
because of some unpleasant flavor in their flesh. But then one never
finds any mark of violence on their bodies. A much more absurd idea was
that they always die if they run across a path which has been trodden by
the foot of man! Perhaps the real reason may be that just at that season
of the year they perish from starvation.
THE WATER-SHREW
The best way to see this pretty little creature is to go and lie down on
the bank of a stream, and to keep perfectly still for five or ten
minutes. If you do this--not moving even a finger--you will very
likely see half a dozen or more of the little animals at play. They go
rushing about in the wildest excitement, chasing one another, tumbling
over one another, and uttering curious little sharp, short squeaks, just
like a party of boys let out from school after a long morning's work.
Suddenly one will dash into the water and dive, quickly followed by
another and then by a third. As they swim away beneath the surface they
look just like balls of quicksilver, because their soft, silky fur
entangles thousands of little air-bubbles, which reflect back the light
just as a looking-glass does. And you will notice that they do not swim
straight. First they turn to one side, and then to the other side,
exactly like some one who has just learned to ride a bicycle, but does
not yet know how to keep the front wheel straight. And the reason is
this. The shrew swims by means of its hind feet, which are fringed with
long hairs, so as to make them more useful as paddles; and it uses them
by striking out first with one and then with the other. The consequence
is that when it strikes with the right foot its head turns to the left,
while when it strikes with the left foot its head turns to the right.
But it would not be able to swim even as straight as it does if it were
not for its tail, which is fringed with long hairs just like the hind
feet. And as the little animal paddles its way through the water it
keeps its tail stretched out behind it, and uses it as a rudder, turning
it a little bit to one side or the other, so as to help it in keeping
its course.
After chasing one another under water for a minute or two, the little
animals give up their game. And now, if you watch them carefully, you
can see them hunting for food. First they go to one stone down at the
bottom of the stream, and then to another, poking their long snouts
underneath in search of fresh-water shrimps, or the grubs of
water-insects. But a minute or two later they are all back on the bank
again, dashing about and chasing one another and squeaking as merrily as
ever.
Sometimes you may see a water-shrew which is very much darker in color
than the others, the fur on the upper part of its body being almost
black. It used to be thought that such animals as this belonged to a
different species, to which the name of oared shrew was given. But we
know now that they are only dark varieties of the common water-shrew.
JUMPING SHREWS
These are all found in Africa. They are curious little creatures with
extremely long hind feet, by means of which they leap along just as if
they were tiny kangaroos. So swift are they, that it is very difficult
for the eye to follow their movements. And as they disappear into their
burrows at the slightest alarm and do not come out again for some little
time, few people ever have a chance of watching their habits.
The snouts of these shrews are so very long that the little animals are
often known as elephant-shrews.
TREE-SHREWS
This is a group so called because they spend almost the whole of their
lives in the trees. In some ways they are not unlike tiny squirrels,
being nearly as active in their movements, and sitting up on their hind
quarters to feed, while the food is held in their fore paws. They are
found in various parts of Southern Asia. They soon become very tame,
actually entering houses, and climbing up on the table while the
occupants are sitting at meals. They will even drink tea and coffee out
of the cups! And if they are encouraged they make themselves quite at
home, and will drive away any other tree-shrews which may venture into
the house.
The largest animal of this group is the tupaia, which lives in Borneo
and Sumatra. But the most curious is the pen-tailed tree-shrew, which
has a double fringe of long hairs at the end of its tail, arranged just
like the barbs of a feather, so that its tail looks very much like a
quill pen. The rest of the tail, which is very long, is covered with
square scales; and while the tail itself is black, the fringe of hairs
is white, so that the appearance of the animal is very odd. It is found
in Sarawak, and also in some of the smaller islands of the Malay
Archipelago.
THE DESMAN
This animal may be described as a kind of mixture of the elephant-shrew
and the water-shrew; for it has an extremely long and flexible snout,
and it spends almost its whole life in the water. Its feet are very well
adapted for swimming, the toes being joined together by a web-like
membrane like those of the duck and the swan, so that they form most
exquisite paddles. And the animal is so fond of the water that, although
it lives in a burrow in the bank of a stream, it always makes the
entrance below the surface.
This is a very good plan in one way, for if the little animal is chased
by one of its enemies, it can easily take refuge in its long, winding
tunnel, which twists about so curiously, and has so many side passages,
that the pursuer is almost sure to be baffled. But in another way it is
a bad plan, for as the burrow has no entrance except the one under
water, it never gets properly ventilated, the only connection with the
outer air being some chance cranny in the ground. And in winter-time,
when deep snow has covered up this cranny, while the surface of the
stream is frozen to a depth of several inches, the poor little desman
can get no fresh air at all, and often dies in its own burrow from
suffocation.
This animal has a curious musky odor, which is due to certain glands
near the root of the tail. So strong is this odor, that if a pike
happens to have swallowed a desman a few days before it is caught, its
flesh cannot be eaten, for its whole body both smells and tastes
strongly of musk. Two kinds of desman are known. One is the Russian
desman, which is found in the steppes, and the other is the Pyrenean
desman, which lives in the range of mountains from which it takes its
name.
THE COMMON MOLE
This is perhaps the most interesting of all the insect-eaters. Have you
ever noticed how wonderfully it is suited for a life which is almost
entirely spent under the ground?
Notice, first of all, the shape of its body. It is a pointed cylinder.
Now that is the very best shape for a burrowing animal, because it
offers so little resistance to the ground as the creature forces its way
along. And nowadays we make all our boring tools and weapons of that
shape. The gimlet, which has to bore through wood; the bullet, which has
to bore through air; the torpedo and the submarine boat, which have to
bore through water--they are all made in the form of pointed cylinders.
And the mole is a pointed cylinder too. Its body is the cylinder, and
its head is the point; and so the animal is able to work its way through
the soil with as little difficulty as possible.
Then notice the character of its fur. It has no "set" in it. You can
stroke it backward or forward with equal ease. And this is most
important in an animal which lives in a burrow. If a mole had fur like
that of a cat, it would be able to travel head foremost through its
tunnel quite easily; but it could not move backward. And this would
never do, for sometimes the mole is attacked by an enemy in front, while
it has no room to turn round in order to retreat. So nature has made its
fur in such a way that it "gives" in either direction, and enables the
little animal to move either forward or backward with equal ease.
A WONDROUS DIGGER
See what wonderful front paws the mole has--so broad, so very strong,
and armed with such great, stout claws. They are partly pickaxes, and
partly spades, which can tear away the earth and fling it up into
molehills with the most wonderful speed. The rapidity with which a mole
can dig is really marvelous. "Three times," a writer tells us, "I have
seen moles walking about on the ground. Each time I was within ten yards
of the animal; each time I ran to the spot. And yet each time the little
creature had disappeared into the ground before I could get there! It
did not seem to be digging. It simply seemed to sink into the soil, just
as though it were sinking into water."
Then just see how hard and horny the skin of the paws is. If it were
not for this, the mole would be always cutting itself with sharp flints
as it dug its way through the ground. Notice, too, how both the eyes and
ears are hidden away under the fur, so that fragments of earth may not
fall into them. Nature has been very careful to suit the mole to the
strange life which she calls upon it to lead.
Perhaps no animal is so strong for its size as the mole. Its muscles and
sinews are so hard that they will turn the edge of a knife. If a mole
could be magnified to the size of a lion or a tiger, and its strength
could be increased in corresponding degree, it would be by far the more
powerful animal of the two.
THE MOLE AND ITS FOOD
The reason why the mole is so strong, and so well suited for a life
underground, is that it is meant to feed partly upon worms, and partly
upon such grubs as wireworms, which live on the roots of plants. And the
appetite of the animal is astonishing. It is ever eating, and yet never
appears to be satisfied. Don't think of keeping a mole as a pet; because
if you do, you will have to spend almost the whole of your time in
digging up worms for it to eat! Mole-catchers say, indeed, that if a
mole goes without eating for three hours it is in danger of starvation.
So that the animal must spend the greater part of the day, and of the
night too, in searching for food.
How does it find the worms and grubs? Well, of course it cannot see
underground; so sometimes, we may think, it smells them, for its scent
is certainly very keen. But oftener, most likely, it hears them moving
about; for its ears are even keener still. Haven't you noticed that,
although you may often walk through fields which are almost covered with
molehills, you never see the earth being thrown up? That is because the
mole hears you coming. It hears your footsteps when you are a hundred
yards distant, or even more, and immediately stops work until you have
gone away again. In "The Tempest," Caliban tells his companions to
"tread softly, that the blind mole may not hear a footfall." Although
Shakespeare was wrong in thinking that moles are blind, he was quite
right in reminding us that they have very sharp ears.
FRIEND OR FOE?
The gardener, of course, looks upon the mole as a foe; and so it is when
it drives its tunnels under our lawns, and throws up great heaps of
earth on the surface of the grass. And the farmer regards it as a foe
too, and kills it whenever he has an opportunity. But perhaps the farmer
may not know what a busy little animal the mole is, and what thousands
and thousands of mischievous grubs it devours. There are wireworms,
which nibble away at the roots of plants till they kill them, and then
move on to destroy other plants in the same way. There are
"leather-jackets," or daddy-long-legs grubs, which feed upon the roots
of grass, and sometimes ruin all the turf in a meadow. There are also
the great fat white grubs of beetles, which are worse, perhaps, than
either; and many others as well. Now the mole is always preying upon
these. It eats them in hundreds every day of its life. And just think of
all the mischief that they would have done if they had been allowed to
live! No doubt it is annoying to the farmer to have molehills among his
hay, which blunt the knives of the reaping-machines, and prevent them
from cutting properly. But even that is better than having no hay to
cut; and there would be none if all these mischievous grubs were allowed
to live.
But there is another way as well in which the mole is useful; for the
earth which it digs up from down below, and throws up in heaps on the
surface of the ground, serves for what the farmer calls a top-dressing.
After a time, you see, the nourishment in the soil at the surface is
sucked out of it by the roots of the grass. If it were in a garden, the
farmer could dig it. If it were in a corn-field, or a turnip-field, he
could plow it. But in a meadow, he can do neither, without destroying
the pasture. So he applies a top-dressing. He gets some good, rich earth
from elsewhere, and spreads it over the surface; and this earth works
down to the grass-roots, and gives them just the nourishment they
require.
Now this is exactly what the mole is always doing. The earth which it
throws up is fresh, rich earth from down below, which the roots have not
reached. It is just what the failing grass requires. And if the farmer
rakes the molehills down, so as to spread this earth evenly over the
surface of the field, he finds that it forms a top-dressing quite as
good as any he could apply himself. So instead of looking upon the mole
as one of his enemies, he ought to include it in the list of his
laborers.
THE LITTLE WELL-DIGGER
Another thing that we must tell you about the mole is the way in which
it obtains water. It is a very thirsty animal, and constantly requires
to drink. At the same time, it cannot leave its burrow half a dozen
times a day, in order to visit a stream or a pond, for it would almost
certainly be killed by one of its many enemies. So it actually digs
little wells of its own, always doing so in the dampest parts of its
tunnels, where they fill up almost immediately. And when it wants to
drink it just goes off to the nearest of these wells and satisfies its
thirst.
THE MOLE'S FORTRESS
But the most wonderful thing that the mole does is to make what we call
a fortress, surrounding the chamber in which it sleeps. This fortress is
situated either in a natural mound of earth, or else beneath the
spreading roots of a tree or a large bush; and it is made in this way:
First the mole digs a short circular gallery. A little way under this it
digs another, rather larger in diameter, and connects the two by means
of five short passages. In the middle of the mound, and about half-way
between the two galleries, it scoops out a large round hole, from which
three passages run to the lower gallery. This is the mole's bedroom, and
it communicates with the main burrow by a tunnel which dips under the
lower gallery. Finally, a number of runs branch out from the lower
gallery in all directions.
So, you see, if a mole is chased by an enemy, it can nearly always
escape by passing through its fortress. It goes up one passage, down
another, up again by a third, down again by a fourth, and then off by
one of the side runs; so that its pursuer is almost sure to be
bewildered. And if the little animal should be surprised while asleep,
it can escape in any direction without losing even a moment.
As the mole always likes to make itself comfortable, it collects
together a quantity of dry grass, moss, and leaves, and piles them up in
the central chamber, so as to make a warm and cosy bed! And the female
mole makes a nursery for her little ones in much the same way.
FIERCE FIGHTERS
Sad to say, moles are very quarrelsome little animals, and frequently
fight when they meet. Here is an account of one of their battles,
written by a passer-by who happened to witness it.
"Walking along a quiet lane, I heard some very funny little squeaks
proceeding from the other side of the hedge. I am perfectly used to all
sorts of animal and bird sounds, but had never heard the like of these
before. On getting cautiously over the hedge, I found two moles fighting
in the ditch. I went to within two yards of them, but they took not the
slightest notice of me, so intent were both on their business. I at once
looked at my watch. They kept on, up and down, scratch and bite, for
seven minutes, when one turned the other completely over on his back,
and seized him by the throat, which he cut as cleanly as if done by a
knife, thus finishing the fight. The way in which they used their
formidable front feet was surprising."
THE STAR-NOSED MOLE
This mole is found in the United States and Canada. It is a very
odd-looking animal, for its muzzle is shaped into a long snout, at the
tip of which is a circle of fleshy rays of a rosy red color, which look
like the petals of a red daisy, or the spreading arms of a sea-anemone.
These rays can be opened wide or closed up at pleasure, and seem to
serve as very delicate organs of touch, helping the animal in finding
and catching its prey.
This mole is also remarkable for having a very long tail, which is more
than half the length of the head and body. The total length is about
seven inches.