CHAPTER I.

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_THE CONTEMPORARY SCIENCE SERIES._

EDITED BY HAVELOCK ELLIS.

THE INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS.

THE INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS.

BY

FREDERIC HOUSSAY.

WITH 44 ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON:

WALTER SCOTT, LTD.,

24 WARWICK LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW.

1893.

NOTE.

The English edition of this book has been revised throughout and

enlarged, with the author's co-operation. Numerous bibliographical

references have also been added. The illustrations, when not otherwise

stated, are in most cases adapted from Brehm's _Thierleben_.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION

The naturalists of yesterday and the naturalists of to-day--Natural

history and the natural sciences--The theory of Evolution--The chief

industries of Man--The chief industries of Animals--Intelligence and

instinct--Instinctive actions originate in reflective actions--The

plan of study of the various industries.

CHAPTER II.

HUNTING--FISHING--WARS AND EXPEDITIONS

The Carnivora more skilful hunters than the Herbivora--Different

methods of hunting--Hunting in ambush--The baited ambush--Hunting in

the dwelling or in the burrow--Coursing--Struggles that terminate the

hunt--Hunting with projectiles--Particular circumstances put to

profit--Methods for utilising the captured game--War and

brigandage--Expeditions to acquire slaves--Wars of the ants.

CHAPTER III.

METHODS OF DEFENCE

Flight--Feint--Resistance in common by social animals--Sentinels.

CHAPTER IV.

PROVISIONS AND DOMESTIC ANIMALS

Provisions laid up for a short period--Provisions laid up for a long

period--Animals who construct barns--Physiological reserves--Stages

between physiological reserves and provisions--Animals who submit food

to special treatment in order to facilitate transport--Care bestowed

on harvested provisions--Agricultural ants--Gardening ants--Domestic

animals of ants--Degrees of civilisation in the same species of

ants--Aphis-pens and paddocks--Slavery among ants.

CHAPTER V.

PROVISION FOR REARING THE YOUNG

The preservation of the individual and the preservation of the

species--Foods manufactured by the parents for their young--Species

which obtain for their larvae foods manufactured by others--Carcasses

of animals stored up--Provision of paralysed living animals--The cause

of the paralysis--The sureness of instinct--Similar cases in which the

specific instinct is less powerful and individual initiative

greater--Genera less skilful in the art of paralysing victims.

CHAPTER VI.

DWELLINGS

Animals naturally provided with dwellings--Animals who increase their

natural protection by the addition of foreign bodies--Animals who

establish their home in the natural or artificial dwellings of

others--Classification of artificial shelters--Hollowed

dwellings--Rudimentary burrows--Carefully-disposed burrows--Burrows

with barns adjoined--Dwellings hollowed out in wood--Woven

dwellings--Rudiments of this industry--Dwellings formed of

coarsely-entangled materials--Dwellings woven of flexible

substances--Dwellings woven with greater art--The art of sewing among

birds--Modifications of dwellings according to season and climate--Built

dwellings--Paper nests--Gelatine nests--Constructions built of

earth--Solitary masons--Masons working in association--Individual

skill and reflection--Dwellings built of hard materials united by

mortar--The dams of beavers.

CHAPTER VII.

THE DEFENCE AND SANITATION OF DWELLINGS

General precautions against possible danger--Separation of females while

brooding--Hygienic measures of Bees--Prudence of Bees--Fortifications

of Bees--Precautions against inquisitiveness--Lighting up the nests.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONCLUSION

Degree of perfection in industry independent of zoological

superiority--Mental faculties of the lower animals of like nature to

Man's.

APPENDIX

INDEX

THE INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION.

THE NATURALISTS OF YESTERDAY AND THE NATURALISTS OF

TO-DAY--NATURAL HISTORY AND THE NATURAL SCIENCES--THE THEORY

OF EVOLUTION--THE CHIEF INDUSTRIES OF MAN--THE CHIEF

INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS--INTELLIGENCE AND INSTINCT--INSTINCTIVE

ACTIONS ORIGINATE IN REFLECTIVE ACTIONS--THE PLAN OF STUDY OF

THE VARIOUS INDUSTRIES.

_The naturalists of yesterday and the naturalists of to-day._--The

study of animals, plants, rocks, and of natural objects generally, was

formerly called "natural history"; but this term is tending to

disappear from our vocabulary and to give place to the term "natural

sciences." What is the reason of this change, and to what does it

correspond? for it is rare for a word to be modified in so short a

time if the thing designated has not itself varied.

Exterior forms have certainly changed, and the naturalist of yesterday

makes upon us the impression of a legendary being. I refer to the

person described in George Sand's romances, marching vigorously over

hills and valleys in search of a rare insect, which he pricked with

delight, or of a plant difficult to reach, which he triumphantly dried

and fixed on a leaf of paper bearing the date of the discovery and the

name of the locality. A herbarium became a sort of journal, recalling

to its fortunate possessor all the wanderings of the happy chase, all

the delightful sounds and sights of the country. Every naturalist

concealed within him a lover of idylls or eclogues. Assuredly all the

preliminary studies which resulted from these excursions were

necessary; we owe gratitude to our predecessors, and we profit from

their labours, sometimes regretting the loss of the picturesque

fashion in which their researches were carried out.

The naturalist of to-day usually lives more in the laboratory than in

the country. Occasional expeditions to the coast or dredgings are the

only links that attach him to nature; the scalpel and the microtome

have replaced the collector's pins, and the magnifying glass gives

place to the microscope. When the observer begins to pursue his

studies in the laboratory he no longer cares to pass the threshold. He

has still so much to learn concerning the most common creatures that

it seems useless to him to waste his time in seeking those that are

rarer, unless he takes into account the unquestionable pleasure of

rambling through woods or along coasts;--but such a consideration does

not belong to the scientific domain.

A change of conditions of this nature does not suffice to create a

science. To take away from a study all that rendered it pleasant and

easy, and to make it the property of a small coterie, when it was

formerly accessible to all, is not sufficient to render it scientific.

It is a fatality rather than a triumph to have undergone such a

change. The change is an effect rather than a cause.

When little or nothing was known it was necessary to begin by

examining the phenomena which first met the eyes of the observer, such

as the customs of animals and the characters which distinguished them

from each other. Their differences and resemblances were studied; they

were formed into groups, classed and arranged in an order recalling as

much as possible their natural relations. In classifying it is

impossible to consider all the facts or the result would be chaos; it

is necessary to choose the characters and to give preponderance to

certain of them. This sorting of characters has been executed with the

sagacity of genius by the illustrious naturalists of the last century

and the beginning of the present. But the frames which they have

traced are fixed and rigid; nature with her infinite plasticity

escapes from them. We render a great homage to the classifiers when we

say that they have confined the facts as closely as it is possible to

do. The catalogues which they have prepared are of a utility which is

unquestionable, although their _role_ is to be useful only; we cannot

pretend to make them the expression, the symbol, the formula in which

all natural phenomena are to be enclosed. To confound classification

with science is to confound the lever with the effect which we expect

from it.

Curiosity, moreover, always impels towards that which is least known.

External appearances having been studied, the form and function of

internal organs were investigated. Physiology and comparative anatomy

were born and developed; researches abounded and observers abandoned

the field for the laboratory.

The difference in methods of research and the pushing of precision to

its extreme limits--an inevitable result of the different nature of

the observations to be made--did not however yet render legitimate the

claim for natural studies to be called "science."

_Natural history and the natural sciences._--A more important event

has taken place. The ancient naturalists, like their contemporaries,

had firm beliefs which they used as unquestionable principles for the

comprehension of all facts. The explanation of an observation was

ready in advance. The study of facts invariably brought to the pen of

the writer the same enthusiastic admiration of the marvellous part

played by Providence in nature.[1] The phenomena in which this action

was not strikingly apparent were merely described without any attempt

to relate them with each other, or with the other facts. A hypothesis

which left a great number of facts without explanation was necessarily

insufficient. The descriptions, in spite of all their individual

interest, did not constitute a homogeneous whole, a science. They were

merely a collection of more or less natural histories.

[1] See, for example, Reaumur, _Memoires pour l'histoire

des Insectes_, t. i., pp. 23-25.

Science only begins on the day when we have found the simple theory

which binds together all the facts at that time known, without of

course prejudicing the future. As the number of acquired facts

increases, if the theory in question continues to explain the new as

it explained the old, the science becomes more firmly established. If

we can imagine a time arriving when all the possible phenomena are

known, and the existing hypothesis still explains them, nothing

henceforth can overturn it, the science is completed. That is the

simple case in which a theory has been victorious; but if it is

contradicted by a single well-authenticated fact it must fall or

become modified. The more things a theory explains in the present the

more chance it has of success in the future. It is still only a matter

of chances, for the theory is always at the mercy of unforeseen

observation, which may rudely overthrow it.

There is no theory which must not be modified constantly, at least in

its details. To render it more and more general by successive

improvements is the aim to be pursued. A collection of studies

constitutes a science when a hypothesis has arisen already

sufficiently strong to oblige us to refer to it all new acquisitions,

and to compel us to see if they fortify or oppose it.

It would indeed be a narrow conception if we were to consider as

scientific the partisans of the theory alone; more than anywhere else

discussion is fruitful in the natural sciences; and if it is necessary

to be constantly preoccupied with the general ideas of the day, it is

not at all necessary to adhere to them servilely. The naturalists of

to-day are in possession of a formula with which we must always

preoccupy ourselves; in other words, there are natural sciences.

_The theory of Evolution._--This hypothesis which comes before all

others is the theory of evolution. This is not the place to expound

it, to go over the proofs which have been amassed to build it up, nor

the criticisms which have been directed against it. It has to-day come

out of the struggle victoriously. A prodigious quantity of facts, of

comparative anatomy and of embryology, inexplicable without it, emerge

from the chaos and constitute a whole, truly and marvellously

homogeneous. Issued from the natural sciences, the doctrine of

evolution now overflows them and tends to embrace everything that

concerns man: history, sociology, political economy, psychology. The

moralists seek, and will surely find, compromises permitting ethical

laws to endure the rule of this overwhelming hypothesis.

Without going too far back into history, let us look towards the end

of the last century and the beginning of this. Cuvier, Lamarck,[2] and

Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire,[3] all preoccupied with general ideas, were

each trying to build up a doctrine. The theory of evolution was born

beneath the pen of Lamarck, but immediately fell under the attacks of

Cuvier.[4] It is to Darwin that the honour belongs of having rescued

it from oblivion and of having initiated the movement which to-day

rules the natural sciences. Studies in embryology and anatomy are

rising without number beneath this impulse; and perhaps it may be said

that these new sciences, so fruitful in results, absorb a little too

much attention and leave in the shade subjects longer known, but

which, however, gain new interest by the way they fit into present

scientific theories.

[2] _Philosophie zoologique_, 2e edition, Paris, 1830;

_Histoire des Animaux sans Vertebres_, Introduction, 1835.

[3] _Philosophie anatomique_, 1818; _Zoologie generale_, 1841.

[4] _Le Regne Animal_, 1829; _Lecons d'Anatomie comparee_,

2e edition, 1835-46.

I wish to speak of the manners of animals; the facts regarding them

are of sufficient interest if we consider them one by one, and they

become much more interesting when we attempt to show the close way in

which they are bound together. Volumes would not suffice to exhaust

the subject; but if the entire task is too considerable, I may at

least hope to accomplish a part of it by treating of those facts which

may be brought together under the common title of Animal Industries.

Taken separately, they may be reproached with a certain anecdotal

character, but we cannot fail to agree that taken altogether they

constitute an important chapter in the sciences of life.

_The chief industries of Man._--Let us first throw a rapid glance at

the various stages which the civilisation and industry of Man have

gone through before arriving at their present condition. To make clear

these phases we might either follow the state of civilisation in any

given country by tracing back the course of centuries, or else at a

given epoch find out in different parts of the earth all the stages of

human evolution. The savage men of to-day are not further advanced in

their evolution than our own ancestors who have now gone to fossil.

However it may be, Man, at first frugivorous, as his dentition shows

as well as his zoological affinities, in consequence of a famine of

fruit or from whatever other cause, gradually began to nourish himself

with the flesh of other animals. To search for this fleeing prey

developed in him the art of hunting and fishing. His intelligence,

still feeble, was entirely concentrated on this one point: to seize on

an animal and to feed on it, although neither his nails nor his teeth

nor his muscles make it natural to him. To hunt, to fish, to defend

his territory against the wild beasts who attacked it and himself, to

drive back tribes of his fellows who would diminish his provisions,

these were the first rudiments of the industry of Man. Having become

more skilful, he obtained in an expedition more game than he could

consume at once; he then kept near him living beasts in order to

sacrifice them when hunger came. His reserve of animals increased;

they became accustomed to live near him; and he took care of his

larder. A flock was gradually constituted, and the owner learnt to

profit from all the resources which it offered him, from milk to wool.

Henceforth he became economical with his beasts, and moved about in

order to procure for them abundance of grass and water. He was still

always hunting and fighting; but there were now accessory industries,

and he was especially occupied in the domestication of animals. Then

it happened that he acquired a taste for a graminaceous grain--corn.

To seek the blades one by one is not a very fruitful labour, and

decidedly troublesome. Man collected a supply of them, cultivated

them, possessed fields which he sowed and harvested. He was henceforth

obliged to renounce his herds, which had become immense; for he could

not leave the soil where his corn was ripening, if he wished to gather

it himself, and his cattle were lacking pasture. The number of beasts

diminished; bread had killed milk. Man only kept near him a small

flock capable of feeding on a moderate territory. He abandoned his

temporary shelters, tents of skin or of woven wool, and since he must

henceforth live on the same piece of land, he constructed there a

fixed dwelling. Such is, taken altogether, the genesis of the industry

of the dwelling connected with the culture of the soil; to earlier

periods corresponded the natural or hollowed cave and the woven tent.

_The chief industries of Animals._--In a more or less perfect degree

we find the same industries among animals generally. In order to make

just comparisons, we ought especially to consider the methods of those

who are not endowed with specially appropriated organs, for in this

case their task is rendered too simple. To take an example. The Lion

is certainly an incomparable hunter; but his whole organisation tends

to facilitate the capture of living prey. His agility and the strength

of his muscles enable him to seize it at the first leap before it can

escape. With his sharp claws he holds it; his teeth are so keen and

his jaw so strong that he kills it immediately; with such natural

advantages what need has he of ingenuity? But in the case of the Wolf

or the Fox it is quite another matter; they hunt with a veritable art

which Man himself has not disdained, since he has taken as his

associate their relative, the Dog. It is the same with the Eagle and

the Crow. The latter, in order to seize the prey which he desires,

needs much more varied resources than the great bird of rapine for

whom nature has done everything.

We find among animals not only hunting and fishing but the art of

storing in barns, of domesticating various species, of harvesting and

reaping--the rudiments of the chief human industries. Certain animals

in order to shelter themselves take advantage of natural caverns in

the same way as many races of primitive men. Others, like the Fox and

the Rodents, dig out dwellings in the earth; even to-day there are

regions where Man does not act otherwise, preparing himself a lodging

by excavations in the chalk or the tufa. Woven dwellings, constructed

with materials entangled in one another, like the nests of birds,

proceed from the same method of manufacture as the woollen stuffs of

which nomad tribes make their tents. The Termites who construct vast

dwellings of clay, the Beavers who build huts of wood and of mud, have

in this industry reached the same point as Man. They do not build so

well, no doubt, nor in so complex a fashion as modern architects and

engineers, but they work in the same way. All these ingenious artisans

operate without organs specially adapted to accomplish the effect

which they reach. It is with such genuine industries that we have to

deal, for the most part neglecting other productions, more marvellous

in certain ways, which are formed by particular organs, or are

elaborated within the organism, and are not the result of the

intelligent effort of the individual. To this category belong the

threads which the Spider stretches, and the cocoon with which the

Caterpillar surrounds himself to shelter his metamorphosis.

_Intelligence and instinct._--By attentive observation it is possible

to find in animals all the intermediate stages between a deliberate

reflective action and an act that has become instinctive and so

inveterate to the species that it has re-acted on its body, and thus

profoundly modified it so as to produce a new organ in such a way that

the phenomena are accomplished as a simple function of vegetative

life, in the same way as respiration or digestion.

If an individual is led to reproduce often the same series of actions

it contracts a _habit_; the repetition may be so frequent that the

animal comes to accomplish it without knowing it; the brain no longer

intervenes; the spinal cord or the chain of ganglia alone govern this

order of acts, to which has been given the name of _reflex actions_. A

reflex may be so powerful as to be transmitted by heredity to the

descendants; it then becomes an _instinct_.

Thus by its nature instinct does not differ from intelligence, but is

intimately connected with it by a chain of which all the links may be

counted. The most intelligent of beings, Man, performs actions that

are purely mechanical; many indeed can with justice be called

instinctive; and, on the other hand, an animal for whom an innate

hereditary instinct is sufficient in ordinary life will give proof of

intelligence and reflection if circumstances in which his instinct is

generally efficacious become modified so that he can no longer profit

by them. Among other ingenious experiments to show the supposed

difference between instinctive and reflective acts, Fabre brings

forward the following[5]:--The _Chalicodoma_, a hymenopterous relative

of the Bees, constructs nests composed of cells formed of mud

agglutinated with saliva. The cell once constructed, the insect begins

to fill it with honey before laying an egg there. He returns with his

booty and wishes to disburse himself in the nest, finds the cellule

which he has to fill, and proceeds always in the same order: first, he

plunges his head in the cell and disgorges the honey which fills his

crop; secondly, he emerges from the cell, turns round, and lets fall

the pollen which remains attached to his legs. Suppose that an insect

has just disgorged his honey, the observer touches his belly with a

straw; the little animal, disturbed in his operation, returns to it

having only the second act to perform. But he re-commences the whole

of his operations though having nothing more to disgorge; he again

plunges his head into the cell and goes through a pretence of

disgorging, then turns round and frees himself from the pollen.

Although touched twice, thrice, or more frequently, he always repeats

the first action before executing the second. It is, says Fabre,

almost like the movement of a machine of which the wheelwork will not

act until one has begun to turn the wheel which directs it.

[5] J. H. Fabre, _Souvenirs entomologiques_, Paris, 1879,

pp. 275 _et seq._

It is incontestable; but I would add, as this conscientious observer

does not, that that does not prove that the intelligence of the insect

differs essentially from ours; it is a simple question of degree. Look

at a boy who is going to jump over a ditch: he begins by spitting into

his hands and rubbing them one against the other before taking his

spring. In what has this served him? It is not more intelligent than

the gesture of the bee who first plunges his head in the cell before

freeing his claws, although the first gesture is useless.[6]

[6] It should perhaps be added that while the boy's action

is not consciously intelligent, it is by no means

purposeless, and is therefore not quite parallel with the

insect's. By vigorously irritating the sensory nerves of the

hand the boy imparts a stimulus to his muscular system. His

act belongs to a large group which has been especially

studied by Fere. See his _Sensation et Mouvement_ (1887),

and _Pathologie des Emotions_ (1892).

And, from another side, if nothing is more instinctive than the manner

in which domestic Bees construct their cells of wax with geometric

regularity, there are other circumstances in which these same insects

give proof of remarkable reflection, sagacity, and intelligence in

co-ordinating their actions in the presence of an event to which they

are not accustomed, and in attaining an end which has presented itself

by accident. Such are, for example, the arrangements which they make

to defend their honey against the attacks of a great nocturnal Moth,

the Death's Head. I shall have to revert to these facts.

We must not then regard instinct, as has often been done, as a

rudiment of intelligence, susceptible or not of development; but much

rather as a series of intelligent acts at first reasoned, then by

their frequent repetition become habitual, reflex, and at last, by

heredity, instinctive.

What the individual loses in individuality and in personal initiative,

heredity restores to him in the form of instinct which is, as it were,

the condensed and accumulated intelligence of his ancestors. He

himself no longer needs to take thought either to preserve his life or

to assure the perpetuation of his race. The qualities which he

received at birth render reflection less necessary; thus species

endowed with some powerful instinct seem not to be intelligent when

they live sheltered from unforeseen events.

From one point of view instinct appears to be a degradation rather

than a perfecting of intelligence, because the acts which proceed from

it are neither so spontaneous nor so personal; but from another point

of view they are much better executed, with less hesitation, with a

slighter expenditure of cerebral force and a minimum of muscular

effort. A habitual act costs us much less to execute than a deliberate

and reflective act. It is thus that the constructions of bees are more

perfect than those of ants; the former act by instinct, the latter

reason their acts at each step.

_Instinctive actions originate in reflective actions._--No doubt it

may be said: It is a pure hypothesis thus to consider instinct as

derived from intelligence; why not admit as well that instinctive acts

have been such from the beginning--in other words, that species have

been created such as we see them to-day? The preceding explanation,

however, has the advantage of being in harmony with the general theory

of evolution, which, whether true or not, so well explains the most

complicated facts that for the present it must be accepted. For the

rest, if it is not possible to appraise the psychic faculties

possessed by the ancestors of existing animals we may at least observe

certain facts which put us on the road of explanation.

An interesting member of the Hymenoptera, the _Sphex_, assures food

for the early days of the life of its larvae in a curious way.[7]

Before laying its eggs it seizes a cricket, paralyses it with two

strokes of its sting--one at the articulation of the head and the

neck, the other at the articulation of the first ring of the thorax

with the second--each stab traversing and poisoning a nervous

ganglion. The cricket is paralysed without being killed; its flesh

does not putrefy, and yet it makes no movement. The _Sphex_ places an

egg on this motionless prey, and the larva which emerges from it

devours the cricket. Here assuredly is a marvellous and certain

instinct. One cannot even object that the strokes of the sting are

inevitably directed to these points because the chitinous envelope of

the victim offers too much resistance in other spots for the dart to

penetrate, because here is the _Ammophila_, a near relative of the

_Sphex_, which chooses for its prey a caterpillar. It is free to

introduce its sting into any part of the body, and yet with extreme

certainty it strikes the two ganglions already mentioned.[8]

[7] "Etude sur l'Instinct et les Metamorphoses des

Sphegiens," _Ann. Sc. Nat._, iv. Serie, t. 6, 1856.

[8] P. Marchal, "Observations sur _l'Ammophila affinis_,"

_Arch. de Zool. exper. et gener._, ii. Serie, t. 10, 1892.

We cannot suppose that the insect has anatomical and physiological

knowledge to inform it of what it is doing. The act is distinctly

instinctive, and seems imprinted by a fatality involving no possible

connection with intelligence. But let us suppose that the ancestors of

these Hymenoptera have thus attacked crickets and killed (not

paralysed) them with one or more wounds at any point. By chance some

of these insects, either in consequence of their manner of attacking

the prey or from any other cause, happen to deliver their blows at the

points in question. Their larvae on this account are placed in more

favourable conditions than those of their relatives whom chance has

less well served; they will prosper and develop sooner. They inherit

this habit, which gradually becomes through the ages that which we

know. It is possible; but why, it may be asked, this hypothesis,

apparently gratuitous, of strokes of the sting given at random? Are

there any facts which render this explanation plausible? Assuredly.

Thus the _Bembex_, which especially attacks Diptera to make them the

prey of its larvae, throws itself suddenly on them and kills them with

one blow in any part of the body. It is unable in this way to amass in

advance sufficient provision for its larvae; the corpses would putrefy.

It is obliged to return from time to time bearing new pasture.[9]

Again, M. Paul Marchal, taking up the study of instinct in the

_Cerceris ornata_,[10] has shown that in this species at least of

_Sphegidae_ the stings have not so considerable an effect. This insect

attacks a wild bee, the _Halictus_. He strikes his victim with two or

three strokes of the sting beneath the thorax, but the paralysis is

not definite, perhaps on account of the nature of the venom, which is

not identical in all species. The tortured creature may regain life at

the end of some hours. Thus the _Cerceris_ is obliged to destroy the

upper part of the neck by repeated malaxation of that part for several

minutes at a time. The effect of this second act, by injuring the

cerebroid ganglia, is to render impossible the return of action;

moreover, it permits the aggressor to satisfy personal gluttony, and

to feed on the liquids of the organism of the vanquished, which is

easy, because the dorsal blood-vessel passes at this level. It can

thus satisfy a personal need while thinking of the future of the race.

[9] J. H. Fabre, _Souvenirs entomologiques_, pp. 225 _et seq._

[10] "Etude sur l'Instinct du _Cerceris ornata_," _Archives

de Zoologie experimentale_, ii. Serie, t. 5, 1887.

It has been said in this connection that in such cases the sure

instinct with which these species were originally endowed has been

distorted, but that is to admit some degree of variation; the

hypothesis of degeneration is as gratuitous as the other, and if we go

so far as to risk a hypothesis, it would be better to use it to

explain facts and not to entangle them.

_Plan of study of the various industries._--The different industries

carried on by animals may be divided into a certain number of groups.

In the case of each of these categories I propose to arrange the facts

in such a way as to bring forward first those animals which, having no

special organs, are obliged to exercise the greatest ingenuity, and

then to indicate the facts which show how variations have arisen which

enable other species to accomplish these acts with marvellous ease.

We will first examine the simplest industries: hunting and fishing,

those industries of which the object is the immediate search for prey;

and to these may be added those which are related to them as re-action

is to action--that is to say, the industries of which the effect is to

provide for the immediate safety of the individual.

Then in an exposition parallel to the march of progress followed by

human civilisations, we shall study among animals the art of

collecting provisions, of domesticating and exploiting flocks, of

reducing their fellows to slavery.

Finally, we shall investigate the series of modifications which the

dwelling undergoes, and we shall see how certain species, after having

constructed admirably-arranged houses, know how to make them healthy,

and how to defend them against attacks from without.

The Industries of Animals · 第 1 / 9 章