Falkland Islands--Excursion round island--Aspect--Cattle, horses,
rabbit, wolf-like fox--Fire made of bones--Art in making fire
--Manner of hunting wild cattle--Geology, fossil shells--Valleys
filled with great fragments, scenes of violence--Penguin--Geese
--Eggs of doris--Zoophytes, coralline phosphorescent--Compound
animals.
FALKLAND ISLANDS.
MARCH 16TH, 1834.--The Beagle anchored in Berkeley Sound, in East
Falkland Island.[1] This archipelago is situated in nearly the same
latitude as the mouth of the Strait of Magellan. It covers a space
of about 120 by 60 geographical miles, and is a little more than
half the size of Ireland. After the possession of these miserable
islands had been contested by France, Spain, and England, they were
left uninhabited. The government of Buenos Ayres then sold them
to a private individual, but likewise used them, as old Spain had
done before, for a penal settlement. England claimed her right and
seized them. The Englishman who was left in charge of the flag was
consequently murdered. A British officer was next sent, unsupported
by any power: and when we arrived, we found him in charge of a
population, of which rather more than half were runaway rebels and
murderers.
The theatre is worthy of the scenes acted on it. An undulating land,
with a desolate and wretched aspect, is every where covered by a
peaty soil and wiry grass, of one monotonous brown colour. Here and
there a peak or ridge of gray quartz rock, breaks through the smooth
surface. Every one has heard of the climate of these regions; it may
be compared to that which is experienced at the height of between
one and two thousand feet, on the mountains of North Wales; having
however less sunshine and less frosty but more wind and rain.
MARCH 16TH.--I will now describe a short excursion which I made
round a part of this island. In the morning I started with six
horses and two Gauchos: the latter were capital men for the purpose,
and well accustomed to living on their own resources. The weather
was very boisterous and cold, with heavy hailstorms. We got on,
however, pretty well; but excepting in the geology, nothing could be
less interesting than our day’s ride. The country is uniformly the
same undulating moorland; the surface being covered by light brown
withered grass and a few very small shrubs, all springing out of an
elastic peaty soil. In the valleys here and there might be seen a
small flock of wild geese, and every where the ground was so soft,
that the snipe was able to feed. Besides these two kinds of birds,
there were few others. There is one main range of hills, nearly two
thousand feet in height, and composed of quartz rock, the rugged and
barren crests of which gave us some trouble to cross. On the south
side we came to the best country for wild cattle; we met however no
great number, for they had lately been much harassed.
In the evening we came across a small herd. One of my companions, St.
Jago by name, soon separated a fat cow; he threw the bolas, and it
struck her legs, but failed in becoming entangled. Then dropping his
hat to mark the spot where the balls were left, while at full gallop
he uncoiled his lazo, and after a most severe chase, again came up
to the cow, and caught her round the horns. The other Gaucho had
gone on ahead with the horses, so that St. Jago had some difficulty
in killing the furious beast. He managed to get her on a level piece
of ground, by taking advantage of her as often as she rushed at him;
and when she would not move, my horse, from having been trained,
would canter up, and with his chest give her a violent push. But
when on level ground it does not appear an easy job for one man to
kill a beast mad with terror. Nor would it be so, if the horse,
when left to itself without its rider, did not soon learn, for its
own safety, to keep the lazo tight; so that, if the animal moves
forward, the horse moves just as quickly so much away; otherwise,
it stands motionless leaning on one side. This horse, however, was
a young one, and would not stand still, but gave in to the cow as
she struggled. It was admirable to see with what dexterity St. Jago
dodged behind the beast, till at last he contrived to give the fatal
touch to the main tendon of the hind leg; after which, driving his
knife into the head of the spinal marrow, the cow dropped as if
struck by lightning. He cut off pieces of flesh with the skin to it,
but without any bones, sufficient for our expedition. We then rode on
to our sleeping-place, and had for supper “carne con cuero,” or meat
roasted with the skin on it. This is as superior to common beef, as
venison is to mutton. A large circular piece taken from the back, is
roasted on the embers with the hide downwards and in the form of a
saucer, so that none of the gravy is lost. If any worthy alderman had
supped with us that evening, “carne con cuero,” without doubt, would
soon have been celebrated in London.
During the night it rained, and the next day (17th) was very stormy,
with much hail and snow. We rode across the island to the neck of
land which joins the Rincon del Toro (the great peninsula at the
S.W. extremity) to the rest of the island. From the greater number
of cows which have been killed, there is a large proportion of
bulls. These wander about by twos and threes, or by themselves, and
are very savage. I never saw such magnificent beasts; they truly
resembled the ancient sculptures, in which the size of the neck and
head is but seldom equalled among tame animals. The young bulls ran
away for a short distance, but the old ones did not stir a step,
except to rush at man and horse; and many of the latter have thus
been killed. One old bull crossed a boggy stream, and took up his
stand on the opposite side to us. We in vain tried to drive him away,
and failing, were obliged to make a large circuit. The Gauchos in
revenge determined to render him for the future innocuous. It was
very interesting to see how art completely mastered force. One lazo
was thrown over his horns, as he rushed at the horse, and another
round his hind legs: in a minute the monster was stretched harmless
on the ground. After the lazo has once been tightly drawn round the
horns of a furious animal, it does not at first appear an easy thing
to disengage it again; nor, I apprehend, would it be so, if the man
was by himself, and he did not wish to kill the beast. By the aid,
however, of a second person throwing his lazo, so as to catch both
hind legs, it is quickly managed: for the animal, as long as its hind
legs are kept outstretched, is quite powerless, and the first man can
with his hands loosen his lazo, and then quietly mount his horse;
but the moment the second man, by backing ever so little, relaxes
the strain, the lazo slips off the legs of the struggling beast,
which thus rises free, shakes himself, and vainly rushes after his
antagonist.
During our whole ride we only saw one troop of wild horses. These
animals, as well as the cattle, were introduced by the French in
1764, since which time they have greatly increased. It is a curious
fact, that the horses have never left the eastern end of the island,
although there is no natural boundary to prevent them from roaming,
and that part of the island is not more tempting than the rest. The
Gauchos, though asserting this to be the case, are unable to account
for the circumstance. The horses appear to thrive well, yet they are
small sized, and have lost so much strength, that they are unfit to
be used in taking wild cattle with the lazo. In consequence, it is
necessary to go to the great expense of importing fresh horses from
the Plata. At some future period the southern hemisphere probably
will have its breed of Falkland ponies, as the northern has that of
Shetland.
The rabbit is another animal which has been introduced, and has
succeeded very well; so that they abound over large parts of the
island. Yet, like the horses, they are confined within certain
limits; for they have not crossed the central chain of hills; nor
would they have extended even so far as the base, if, as the Gauchos
informed me, small colonies had not been carried there. I should not
have supposed that these animals, natives of northern Africa, could
have existed in a climate so extremely humid as this, and which
enjoys so little sunshine that even wheat ripens only occasionally.
It is asserted that in Sweden, which any one would have thought a
more favourable climate, the rabbit cannot live out of doors. The
first few pair moreover had here to contend against pre-existing
enemies, in the fox, and some large hawks. The French naturalists
have considered the black variety a distinct species, and called it
_Lepus Magellanicus_.[2] They imagined that Magellan, when talking
of an animal under the name of “conejos,” in the Strait of Magellan,
referred to this species; but he was alluding to a small cavy, which
to this day is thus called. The Gauchos laughed at the idea of the
black kind being different from the gray, and they said that at all
events it had not extended its range any further than the other;
that the two were never found separate; and that they readily bred
together, and produced piebald offspring. Of the latter I now possess
a specimen, and it is marked about the head, differently from the
French specific description. This circumstance shows how cautious
naturalists should be in making species; for even Cuvier, on looking
at the skull of one of these rabbits, thought it was probably
distinct.
The only quadruped native to the island, is a large wolf-like fox,[3]
which is common to both East and West Falkland. I have no doubt it
is a peculiar species, and confined to this archipelago; because many
sealers, Gauchos, and Indians, who have visited these islands, all
maintain that no such animal is found in any part of South America.
Molina, from a similarity in habits, thought this was the same with
his “culpeu;”[4] but I have seen both, and they are quite distinct.
These wolves are well known, from Byron’s account of their tameness
and curiosity; which the sailors, who ran into the water to avoid
them, mistook for fierceness. To this day their manners remain the
same. They have been observed to enter a tent, and actually pull some
meat from beneath the head of a sleeping seaman. The Gauchos, also,
have frequently killed them in the evening, by holding out a piece
of meat in one hand, and in the other a knife ready to stick them.
As far as I am aware, there is no other instance in any part of the
world, of so small a mass of broken land, distant from a continent,
possessing so large a quadruped peculiar to itself. Their numbers
have rapidly decreased; they are already banished from that half of
the island which lies to the eastward of the neck of land between
St. Salvador Bay and Berkeley Sound. Within a very few years after
these islands shall have become regularly settled, in all probability
this fox will be classed with the dodo, as an animal which has
perished from the face of the earth. Mr. Lowe, an intelligent person
who has long been acquainted with these islands, assured me, that
all the foxes from the western island were smaller and of a redder
colour than those from the eastern. In the four specimens which were
brought to England in the Beagle[5] there was some variation, but the
difference with respect to the islands could not be perceived. At
the same time the fact is far from improbable.
At night (17th) we slept on the neck of land which forms the
south-west peninsula. The valley was pretty well sheltered from the
cold wind; but there was very little brushwood for fuel. The Gauchos,
however, soon found what, to my great surprise, made nearly as hot a
fire as coals; this was the skeleton of a bullock lately killed, from
which the flesh had been picked by the Caracaras. They told me that
in winter they had often killed a beast, cleaned the flesh from the
bones with their knives, and then with these same bones roasted the
meat for their suppers.
18TH.--It rained during nearly the whole day. At night we managed,
however, with our saddle-cloths, to keep ourselves pretty well dry
and warm; but the ground on which we slept was on each occasion
nearly in the state of a bog, and there was not a dry spot to sit
down on after our day’s ride. I have in another part stated how
singular it is that trees should be entirely absent from these
islands, while they cover the whole surface of Tierra del Fuego. The
largest bush in the island (belonging to the family of Compositæ) is
scarcely so tall as our gorze. The best fuel is afforded by a green
little bush, about the size of common heath, which has the useful
property of burning while fresh and green. It was very surprising to
see the Gauchos, in the midst of rain, and every thing soaking wet,
with nothing more than a tinder-box and piece of rag, immediately
make a fire. They sought beneath the tufts of grass and bushes for a
few dry twigs, and these they rubbed into fibres; then surrounding
them with coarser twigs, something like a bird’s nest, they put the
rag with its spark of fire in the middle, and covered it up. The nest
being then held up to the wind, by degrees it smoked more and more,
and at last burst out in flames. I do not think any other method
would have had a chance of succeeding with such damp materials.
19TH.--Each morning, from not having ridden for some time previously,
I was very stiff. I was surprised to hear the Gauchos, who have
from infancy almost lived on horseback, say that, under similar
circumstances, they always suffer. St. Jago told me, that having
been confined for three months by illness, he went out hunting wild
cattle, and in consequence, for the next two days, his thighs were so
stiff that he was obliged to lie in bed. This shows that the Gauchos,
although they do not appear to do so, yet really must exert much
muscular effort in riding. The hunting wild cattle, in a country so
difficult to pass as this is on account of the swampy ground, must
be very hard work. The Gauchos say they often pass at full speed
over ground which would be impassable at a slower pace; in the same
manner as a man is able to skate across thin ice. When hunting, the
party endeavours to get as close as possible to the herd without
being discovered. Each man carries four or five pair of the bolas;
these he throws one after the other at as many cattle, which, when
once entangled, are left for some days, till they become a little
exhausted by hunger and struggling. They are then let free and
driven towards a small herd of tame animals, which have been brought
to the spot on purpose. From their previous treatment, being too
much terrified to leave the herd, they are easily driven, if their
strength lasts out, to the settlement.
The weather continued so very bad, that we determined to make a push,
and try to reach the vessel before night. From the quantity of rain
which had fallen, the surface of the whole country was swampy. I
suppose my horse fell at least a dozen times, and sometimes the whole
six were floundering in the mud together. All the little streams are
bordered by soft peat, which makes it very difficult for the horses
to leap them without falling. To complete our discomforts, we were
obliged to cross the head of a creek, in which the water was as
high as the backs of the horses, and the little waves, owing to the
violence of the wind, broke over us, and made us very wet and cold.
Even the iron-framed Gauchos professed themselves glad when they
reached the settlement, after our little excursion.
The geological structure of these islands is in most respects simple.
The lower country consists of clay-slate and sandstone associated
together, and the hills of white granular quartz rock. The strata
of the latter are frequently arched with perfect symmetry, and the
appearance of some of the masses is in consequence most singular.
Pernety[6] has devoted several pages to the description of a hill of
ruins, the successive strata of which he has justly compared to the
seats of an amphitheatre. The quartz rock must have been quite pasty
when it underwent such remarkable flexure without being shattered
into fragments. As a passage between the quartz and the sandstone
can be traced, it seems probable that the former owes its origin to
the sandstone having been heated to such an excess, that it became
viscid, and upon cooling crystallized. While in the soft state it
must have been pushed up through the overlying beds.
The sandstone and clay-slate contain numerous casts of organic
remains. These chiefly consist of shells allied to terebratula, of
encrinites, of a branching coral divided into alternate compartments,
and lastly, of an obscure impression of the lobes of a trilobite.
These fossils possess great interest, because none hitherto have been
brought to Europe from a latitude nearly so far south. Mr. Murchison,
who had the kindness to look at my specimens, says that they have a
close general resemblance to those belonging to the lower division
of his Silurian system; and Mr. James Sowerby is of opinion that
some of the species are identical. This would be a most remarkable
circumstance in the ancient natural history of the world; for shells
now living in latitude 50° on opposite sides of the equator, are
totally distinct. From the similarity of the Falkland fossils with
those in England which are associated with remains that indicate a
climate of a tropical character, we may I presume infer that, during
this same epoch, nearly the whole world was thus circumstanced.
In many parts of the island, the bottoms of the valleys are covered
in an extraordinary manner, by myriads of great angular fragments of
the quartz rock. These have been mentioned with surprise by every
voyager since the time of Pernety. The whole may be called “a stream
of stones.” The blocks vary in size, from that of a man’s chest to
ten or twenty times as large, and occasionally they altogether exceed
such measures. Their edges show no signs of being water-worn, but are
only a little blunted. They do not occur thrown together in irregular
piles, but are spread out into level sheets, or great streams. It is
not possible to ascertain their thickness, but the water of small
streamlets could be heard trickling through the stones many feet
below the surface. The actual depth is probably much greater, because
the crevices between the lower fragments must long ago have been
filled up with sand, and the bed of the rivulet thus raised. The
width of these beds varies from a few hundred feet to a mile; but the
peaty soil daily encroaches on the borders, and even forms islets
wherever a few fragments happen to lie close together. In a valley
south of Berkeley Sound, which some of our party called the “great
valley of fragments,” it was necessary to cross an uninterrupted band
half a mile wide, by jumping from one pointed stone to another. So
large were the fragments, that being overtaken by a shower of rain, I
readily found good shelter beneath one of them.
Their little inclination is the most remarkable circumstance in these
“streams of stones.” On the hill-sides I have seen them sloping at
an angle of ten degrees with the horizon; but in some of the level,
broad-bottomed valleys, the inclination is only just sufficient to
be clearly perceived. On so rugged a surface there was no means
of measuring the angle; but to give a common illustration, I may
say that the slope alone would not have checked the speed of an
English mail-coach. In some places, a continuous stream of these
fragments followed up the course of a valley, and even extended to
the very crest of the hill. On these crests huge masses, exceeding
in dimensions any small building, seemed to stand arrested in their
headlong course: there, also, the curved strata of the archways
lay piled over each other, like the ruins of some vast and ancient
cathedral. In endeavouring to describe these scenes of violence, one
is tempted to pass from one simile to another. We may imagine, that
streams of white lava had flowed from many parts of the mountains
into the lower country, and that, when consolidated, they had been
rent by some enormous convulsion into myriads of fragments. The
expression, “streams of stones,” which immediately occurred to every
one, conveyed the same idea. These scenes are, on the spot, rendered
more striking, by the contrast of the low, rounded forms of the
neighbouring hills.
I was much interested by finding on the highest peak of one range
(about 700 feet above the sea) a great arched fragment, lying on its
convex or upper surface. Must we believe that it was fairly pitched
up in the air, and thus turned? Or, with more probability, that
there existed formerly a part of the same range more elevated than
the point on which this monument of a great convulsion of nature
now lies. As the fragments in the valleys are neither rounded nor
the crevices filled up with sand, we must infer that the period of
violence was subsequent to the land having been raised above the
waters of the sea. In a transverse section within these valleys the
bottom is nearly level, or rises but very little towards either
side. Hence the fragments appear to have travelled from the head
of the valley; but in reality it seems most probable, either that
they have been hurled down from the nearest slopes, or that masses
of rock were broken up in the position they formerly occupied; and
that since, by a vibratory movement of overwhelming force,[7] the
fragments have been levelled into one continuous sheet. If during
the earthquake[8] which in 1835 overthrew Concepcion, in Chile, it
was thought wonderful that small bodies should have been pitched a
few inches from the ground, what must we say to a movement which
has caused fragments, many tons in weight (like so much sand on a
vibrating board), to move onwards and find their level? I have seen,
in the Cordillera of the Andes, the evident marks where stupendous
mountains have been broken into pieces like so much thin crust, and
the strata thrown on their vertical edges; but never did any scene,
like the “streams of stones,” so forcibly convey to my mind the idea
of a convulsion of which in historical records we might in vain seek
for any counterpart.
I have little to remark on the zoology of these islands. I have
before described the Polyborus or Caracara. There are some other
hawks, owls, and a few small land-birds. The waterfowl[9] are
particularly numerous, and they must formerly, from the accounts
of old navigators, have been much more so. One day, having placed
myself between a penguin (_Aptenodytes demersa_) and the water, I was
much amused by watching its habits. It was a brave bird; and till
reaching the sea, it regularly fought and drove me backwards. Nothing
less than heavy blows would have stopped him; every inch gained he
firmly kept, standing close before me, erect and determined. When
thus opposed he continually rolled his head from side to side, in a
very odd manner, as if the power of distinct vision only lay in the
anterior and basal part of each eye. This bird is commonly called
the jackass penguin, from its habit, while on shore, of throwing
its head backwards, and making a loud strange noise, very like the
braying of that animal; but while at sea, and undisturbed, its note
is very deep and solemn, and is often heard in the night-time. In
diving, its little plumeless wings are used as fins; but on the land,
as front legs. When crawling (it may be said on four legs) through
the tussocks, or on the side of a grassy cliff, it moved so very
quickly that it might readily have been mistaken for a quadruped.
When at sea and fishing, it comes to the surface, for the purpose of
breathing, with such a spring, and dives again so instantaneously,
that I defy any one at first sight to be sure that it is not a fish
leaping for sport.
Two kinds of geese frequent the Falklands. The upland species (_Anas
leucoptera_) is common in pairs, and in small flocks, throughout the
island. They do not migrate, but build on the small outlying islets.
This is supposed to be from fear of the foxes: and it is perhaps from
the same cause that these birds, though very tame by day, are shy
and wild in the dusk of the evening. They live entirely on vegetable
matter. The rock-goose, so called from living exclusively on the
sea-beach (_Anas antarctica_), is common both here and on the west
coast of America, as far north as Chile. In the deep and retired
channels of Tierra del Fuego, the snow-white gander, invariably
accompanied by his darker consort, and standing close by each other
on some distant rocky point, is a common feature in the landscape.
In these islands a great loggerheaded duck or goose (_Anas
brachyptera_), which sometimes weighs twenty-two pounds, is very
abundant. These birds were in former days called, from their
extraordinary manner of paddling and splashing upon the water,
race-horses; but now they are named, much more appropriately,
steamers. Their wings are too small and weak to allow of flight, but
by their aid, partly swimming and partly flapping the surface of the
water, they move very quickly. The manner is something like that by
which the common house-duck escapes when pursued by a dog; but I am
nearly sure that the steamer moves its wings alternately, instead of
both together, as in other birds. These clumsy, loggerheaded ducks
make such a noise and splashing, that the effect is exceedingly
curious.
Thus we find in South America three birds, which use their wings for
other purposes besides flight: the penguin as fins, the steamer as
paddles, and the ostrich as sails to a vessel. The steamer is able
to dive only a very short distance. It feeds entirely on shell-fish
from the kelp and tidal rocks; hence the beak and head, for the
purpose of breaking them, are surprisingly heavy and strong. So
strong is the head, that I have scarcely been able to fracture it
with my geological hammer; and all our sportsmen soon discovered how
tenacious these birds were of life. When pluming themselves in the
evening in a flock, they make the same odd mixture of sounds which
bullfrogs do within the Tropics.
In Tierra del Fuego, as well as at the Falkland Islands, I made many
observations on the lower marine animals,[10] but they are of little
general interest. I will only mention one class of facts, relating
to certain zoophytes in the more highly organized division of that
class. Several genera (_flustra_, _eschara_, _cellaria_, _crisia_,
and others) agree in having singular moveable organs, like those
of _Flustra avicularia_ (found in the European seas), attached to
their cells. The organ, in the greater number of cases, very closely
resembles the head of a vulture; but the lower mandible can be opened
much wider, so as to form even a straight line with the upper. The
head itself possesses considerable powers of movement, by means of
a short neck. In one zoophyte the head itself was fixed, but the
lower jaw free: in another it was replaced by a triangular hood,
with a beautifully-fitted trap-door, which evidently answered to the
lower mandible. A species of stony eschara had a structure somewhat
similar. In the greater number of species, each shell was provided
with one head, but in others each had two.
The young cells at the end of the branches necessarily contained
quite immature polypi, yet the vulture-heads attached to them, though
small, were in every respect perfect. When the polypus was removed by
a needle from any of the cells, these organs did not appear in the
least affected. When one of the latter was cut off from a cell, the
lower mandible retained its power of opening and closing. Perhaps the
most singular part of their structure is, that when there were more
rows of cells than two, both in a Flustra and an Eschara, the central
cells were furnished with these appendages, of only one-fourth the
size of the lateral ones. Their movements varied according to the
species:--in some I never saw the least motion; while others, with
the lower mandible generally wide open, oscillated backwards and
forwards at the rate of about five seconds each turn; others moved
rapidly and by starts. When touched with a needle the beak generally
seized the point so firmly, that the whole branch might be shaken.
These bodies have no relation whatever with the production of the
gemmules. I could not trace any connexion between them and the
polypus. From their formation being completed before that of the
latter; from the independence of their movements; from the difference
of their size in different parts of the branch; I have little doubt
that in their functions they are related rather to the axis than to
any of the polypi. In a similar manner, the fleshy appendage at the
extremity of the sea-pen forms part of the zoophyte as a whole, as
much as the roots of a tree do of the whole and not of the individual
buds. Without doubt this is a very curious variation in the structure
of a zoophyte: for the growing part in most other cases does not
manifest the least irritability or power of movement.
I will mention one other kind of structure quite as anomalous. A
small and elegant Crisia is furnished, at the corner of each cell,
with a long and slightly-curved bristle, which is fixed at the
lower end by a joint. It terminates in the finest point, and has
its outer or convex side serrated with delicate teeth or notches.
Having placed a _small_ piece of a branch under the microscope, I
was exceedingly surprised to see it suddenly start from the field
of vision by the movement of these bristles, which acted as oars.
Irritation generally produced this motion, but not always. When the
coralline was laid flat on that side from which the toothed bristles
projected, they were necessarily all pressed together and entangled.
This scarcely ever failed to excite a considerable movement among
them, and evidently with the object of freeing themselves. In a small
piece, which was taken out of water and placed on blotting-paper, the
movement of these organs was clearly visible for a few seconds by the
naked eye.
In the case of the vulture-heads, as well as in that of the
bristles, all that were on one side of a branch, moved sometimes
coinstantaneously, sometimes in regular order one after the other;
at other times the organs on both sides the branch moved together;
but generally all were independent of each other, and entirely
so of the polypi. In the Crisia, if the bristles were excited to
move by irritation in any one branch, generally the whole zoophyte
was affected. In the instance where the branch started from the
simultaneous movement of these appendages, we see as perfect a
transmission of will as in a single animal. The case, indeed, is not
different from that of the sea-pen, which when touched drew itself
into the sand. I will state one other instance of uniform action,
though of a very different nature, in a zoophyte[11] closely allied
to Clytia, and therefore very simply organized. Having kept a large
tuft of it in a basin of salt water, when it was dark I found that
as often as I rubbed any part of a branch, the whole became strongly
phosphorescent with a green light: I do not think I ever saw any
object more beautifully so. But the remarkable circumstance was, that
the flashes of light always proceeded up the branches, from the base
towards the extremities.
The examination of these compound animals was always very interesting
to me. What can be more remarkable than to see a plant-like body
producing an egg, furnished with setæ, and having independent
movements, which soon becomes fixed, branches into numberless arms,
and these, though crowded with polypi, yet in some cases possessing
independent organs of movement, and obeying uniform impulses of will?
The polypi are frequently animals of no simple organization; and in
most respects certainly are to be considered as true individuals.
It is therefore more curious to observe, in the young and terminal
cells, their gradual formation, from the growth of the simple
horny substance of which so many zoophytes are composed. The known
organization of a tree should remove all surprise at the union of
many individuals together, and their relation to a common body.
Indeed we might expect, according to the apparent law, that any
structure which prevails in one class will be produced in a lesser
degree in some others--that since so many plants are compound, so
would some animals be thus constructed. It requires, however, a
greater effort of reason to view a bud as an individual, than a
polypus furnished with a mouth and intestines; and therefore the
union does not appear so strange.
Our conception of a compound animal,[12] where in some respects the
individuality of each is not completed, may be aided, by reflecting
on the production of two distinct creatures by bisecting one with a
knife, or where nature herself performs the task. We may consider
the polypi in a zoophyte, or the buds in a tree, as cases where the
division of the individual has not been completely effected. In this
kind of generation, the individuals seem produced only with relation
to the present time; their numbers are multiplied, but their life is
not extended beyond a fixed period. By the other, and more artificial
kind, through intermediate steps or ovules, the relation is kept up
through successive ages. By the latter method many peculiarities,
which are transmitted by the former, are obliterated, and the
character of the species is limited; while on the other hand, certain
peculiarities (doubtless adaptations) become hereditary and form
races. We may fancy that in these two circumstances we see a step
towards the final cause of the shortness of life.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] In the same month, also, of the previous year, the Beagle visited
these islands.
[2] Lesson’s Zoology of the Voyage of the Coquille, vol. i., p. 168.
All the early voyagers, and especially Bougainville, distinctly state
that the wolf-like fox was the only native animal on the island. The
distinction of this rabbit as a species, is taken from peculiarities
in the fur, from the shape of the head, and from the shortness of
the ears. I may here observe that the difference between the Irish
and English hare, rests upon nearly similar characters, only more
strongly marked.
[3] I have reason to believe there is likewise a field-mouse. The
common European rat and mouse have roamed from the habitations, and
have settled themselves at various points. The common hog has also
run wild.
[4] The “culpeu” is the _Vulpes Magellanicus_ brought home by Captain
King from the Strait of Magellan. It is common in Chile.
[5] Captain FitzRoy has presented two of these foxes to the British
Museum, where Mr. Gray had the kindness to compare them in my
presence.
[6] Pernety, Voyage aux Isles Malouines, p. 526.
[7] “Nous n’avons pas été moins saisis d’étonnement à la vûe de
l’innombrable quantité de pierres de toutes grandeurs, bouleversées
les unes sur les autres, et cependant rangées, comme si elles avoient
été amoncelées négligemment pour remplir des ravins. On ne se lassoit
pas d’admirer les effets prodigieux de la nature.”--_Pernety_, p. 526.
[8] An inhabitant of Mendoza, and hence well capable of judging,
assured me that, during the several years he had resided on these
islands, he had never felt the slightest shock of an earthquake.
[9] I may mention, that I one day observed a cormorant playing with a
fish which it had caught. Eight times successively the bird let its
prey go, then dived after it, and although in deep water, brought it
each time to the surface. In the Zoological Gardens I have seen the
otter treat a fish in the same manner, much as a cat does a mouse.
I do not know of any other instance where dame Nature appears so
wilfully cruel.
[10] While at the Falklands, during the autumn of the southern
hemisphere, most of the lower marine animals were breeding. I was
surprised to find on counting the eggs of a large white Doris (this
sea-slug was three and a half inches long) how extraordinarily
numerous they were. From two to five eggs (each three-thousandths
of an inch in diameter) were contained in a spherical little case.
These were arranged two deep in transverse rows forming a ribbon. The
ribbon adhered by its edge to the rock in an oval spire. One, which I
found, measured nearly twenty inches in length and half in breadth.
By counting how many balls were contained in a tenth of an inch in
the row, and how many rows in an equal length of the ribbon, on the
most moderate computation there were six hundred thousand eggs.
Yet this Doris was certainly not very common: although I was often
searching under the stones I saw only seven individuals.
[11] This coralline emitted a very strong and disagreeable odour,
when freshly taken from the sea.
[12] With regard to associated life, animals of other classes besides
the mollusca and radiata present obscure instances of it. The bee
could not live by itself. And in the neuter, we see an individual
produced which is not fitted for the reproduction of its kind--that
highest point at which the organization of all animals, especially
the lower ones, tends--therefore such neuters are born as much for
the good of the community, as the leaf-bud is for the tree.