rivalries which disturb, so often, our human countries and empires with
such dreadful results. If two rival kings arise at the same time in a
herd of horses, instead of forming factions in the state which end in
civil war, they fight it out personally until one of them is killed or
defeated. Once in a great while the other horses intervene, and drive
the less desirable, or the false-claimant of power, away from the herd
and its grazing territory. In these troubles the real king has little or
no power, all activities are carried on by the workers.
If by chance he dies or is captured, another king, chosen by the herd,
immediately assumes the kingship. It is a well-known fact that if the
king of a herd of wild horses is caught, it is not uncommon for his herd
to remain as near him as possible, and in their attempt to release him
are often trapped themselves. The king has no heirs, either apparent or
presumptive, and no right of succession is recognised. Any member of the
herd, provided the workers choose him, may become the king, as every
American school boy is a possible president of the United States.
Among many animals there is a perfect social and industrial organisation
in which the division of labour is far better adjusted than in many
human organisations. This, of course, is the result of gradual growth
and evolution just as it is in the human species. This can easily be
proved among animals by their more primitive and savage habits. Monkeys,
for example, in civilised monkey communities, differ very greatly from
those of wilder and less trained districts. They are constantly changing
their habits, becoming more and more civilised by improving their
methods of work and their moral and religious life as well. In many
cases they have ceased to kill members of their own tribe for small
offences for which they used to kill, and the cleanness and beauty of
their home lives seem to increase with the years.
It oftentimes happens, however, that powerful ape and baboon colonies
relapse into barbarism, and roam, plunder, rob and murder, like a pack
of uncivilised wolves or hyenas. They seem all at once to forget their
peaceful industries and lose all desire for clean and right living. And
strangely enough, when they once turn bad, they seldom reform. Some
naturalists believe that they are led astray by a wicked king or ruler
who comes into power; the natives believe the evil spirits have suddenly
taken possession of them.
There is unquestionably, in the life of many tribal animals, a definite
historical connection between the mother tribe and its colonies. This
relation extends to the tribes of tribes, and thus there is an
international relationship between the various members of a large number
of tribes. These communities share the same likes, dislikes, hatreds,
and aspirations. A missionary friend told of his experience with monkey
folk, and how once, when hunting, his gun was accidentally discharged,
instantly wounding a large semi-tame baboon near his home. He hastened
to help the injured animal, but saw that the relatives had crowded
around and were terrorised, as they thought it was intentional. They not
only followed him to his home, but returned in the night and actually
tore his fence down. For months he was afraid to leave his wife alone
during the day. And the natives reported that large tribes of monkey
folk immediately came into the community from remoter regions and were
distinctly on the war path. It was evident that their unjust antipathy
was extended to all the kinspeople.
This is evidence of hereditary enmity, such as is common among families,
tribes, and clans, and it often takes the form of feuds, which are still
in vogue in the mountainous counties of the South. The baboons had
suffered wrongs and never forgot it, and it was transmitted to their
offspring.
[Illustration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_
BRONTOSAURUS. THE ANIMALS THAT SEEMED BEST EQUIPPED TO DEFEND THEMSELVES
ARE THE ONES THAT, THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO, BECAME EXTINCT.]
[Illustration: THIS PREHISTORIC MONSTER WAS EQUIPPED NOT ONLY WITH A
PAIR OF STRONG HORNS, BUT WITH A SHIELD BACK OF THEM AS WELL.]
The ability to use weapons, tools, and war instruments is not
exclusively human. Even fish are capable of reaching their prey at a
long distance. The _toxotes jaculator_, which lives in the rivers of
India, and feeds upon insects, cannot afford to wait until the insects
which thrive upon the leaves of aquatic plants fall into the water. So
as he cannot leap high enough to catch them, he fills his mouth with
water and squirts it at an insect with such aim and force that he rarely
fails to knock the insect into the water where he can easily catch it.
Many other animals squirt various liquids, occasionally in attack, but
most times in defence. The fish makes a veritable squirt-gun of his
mouth.
Beavers use sticks, chips, and even stones in building their dams; and
their engineering abilities are astounding. They are also capable of
meeting emergencies, as shown by the following incident. A farmer in
Michigan discovered one morning, just after a flood, that all his potato
sacks, which had been hung on a back fence to dry, had suddenly
disappeared. A few days later he found them in a nearby beavers' colony,
used in rebuilding their dam, which had suddenly overflowed. The beavers
wasted no time, when they discovered their danger, in meeting the
emergency by using the sacks to prevent the destruction of their home.
Monkeys make skilled use of clubs and stones in capturing their prey and
fighting their enemies.
The skill with which some of them throw pebbles would lead us to believe
they have already reached the degree of civilisation that many tribes of
savages had reached only a few years ago, when they learned to use the
boomerang and lasso. Some naturalists claim that monkeys actually set
pitfalls for their enemies and lie in wait for them to be caught, just
as a hunter would do.
Elephants also know the value of clubs in warfare, and will often use a
broken limb of a dead tree as a weapon of defence. The story is told and
vouched for by Mr. William B. Smith that on his farm, near Mount
Lookout, a few years ago a donkey grazed in the same pasture with a
ferocious bull. He was frequently attacked by the bull, and always got
the worst of the fight. His feet were no match for the bull's horns, but
one day the mule grabbed a long pole in his mouth, and, whirling it
about, almost killed the bull, and henceforth the two lived on the best
of terms in the same pasture.
I have a friend who owns a cow that knows exactly how to lift an iron
latch to the barn door with her tongue and open the door. Innumerable
times she has opened a gate in the same way to permit her calf to go
free with her. So skilled is she in the manipulation of doors and
latches that we are tempted to believe in some previous state of
existence she was a professional lock-picker!
Cats and dogs are famed for their ability to open doors by pulling
latch-strings. And not a few cats show a strong desire to study music by
walking up and down the keyboard of a piano!
Monkeys who live near the seashore show wonderful aptness in opening
oysters and shell-fish with sharp stones, exactly as a man would do.
Monkeys have already reached the degree of civilization where they
select the stones best suited for their work, and from their progress in
the past it is reasonable to believe that in the near future they will
not only be able to make their own tools--thus placing themselves on a
mental footing with our flint-chipping ancestors of the early stone
age,--but will also learn the use of fire and eventually the use of guns
and ammunition, which marks one of the most important epochs in the
evolution of the human species.
The chimpanzees, gorillas, and apes of the African forests have many
times been observed in the act of piling brushwood upon the fires left
by travellers, and though they do not know how to kindle a fire, they
have learned how to keep it burning. The tame ones soon learn how to
ignite matches, and often do great harm by starting forest fires.
But they show quite as much intelligence about the use of fire as the
average small child. In fact, it has been thought by a number of great
scholars that man had not yet made his appearance upon the earth in the
miocene age, and that all the marvellous chipped flints of that age
belong to semi-human pithecoid apes of wonderful intelligence. There is
surely nothing in the facts of natural history, nor in Darwin's theory
of evolution, that makes such a supposition unbelievable.
Baboons use poles as levers, stones as hammers, and seem to understand
the more simple mechanical devices. Prantl claims that man is the only
animal capable of using fire but not a few baboons know how to strike a
match, heap dried leaves over the blaze to make it burn, and then heap
on dead wood to feed the fire. This knowledge with them, exactly as with
primitive peoples, is a product of long experience and does not show any
mathematical truths or principles any more than making a direct cut
across a field implies "knowledge of the relation of a hypothenuse to
the two other sides of a right-angled triangle." This is what Prantl
calls "spontaneous mathematical thinking."
I knew of a tame ape in Chicago that learned to swing from the end of a
clothes-line and seemed to enjoy it very much. The line was just the
right length and properly hung so as to allow the ape to swing out from
a kitchen window and touch the ground. Just for fun, some one cut a
piece from the line so that he could not reach the ground; immediately
the ape hunted another piece of cord, tying it to the end of his line so
as to increase its length, and much to his delight, continued to swing
on the line.
The distinctive features of animal protection and home government,
especially in the higher groups, may compare favourably with any of the
methods used by civilised man. This is true both of their offensive and
defensive contrivances and for their monarchies and republics. They use
shells, scales, plates of every kind, with innumerable modifications for
various purposes--spines and allied armaments--all shapes and sizes;
poisonous secretions, deadly odours, strong claws and teeth wielded by
strong muscles, and form colonies that are more than a gregarious
association. In most cases, they have communities composed of
individuals living individual lives, yet which act in cases of need as
one unit.
X
ANIMAL ARCHITECTS, ENGINEERS, AND HOUSE BUILDERS
_"The heart is hard that is not pleased
With sight of animals enjoying life,
Nor feels their happiness augment his own."_
The most popular and perhaps the most interesting department of
natural-history study is that which treats of the manner in which
animals utilise the various materials of the universe for purposes of
protection, for war and defence, for raiment, food, and even the
luxuries of life. Man, by his superior power of adaptation, excels the
lower animals in providing for the comforts of life; but, on the other
hand, in such practical arts as engineering and domestic architecture
man frequently finds himself an amateur in comparison. With all man's
inventions he has not been able to equal some of the remarkable results
produced by some animals. The beaver, for example, shows a more profound
knowledge of hydraulics than man himself. The power possessed by these
craftsmen, not only in felling trees, but in duly selecting the best
places for making homes and in appropriating substances suitable for
their needs, is a never-ending marvel!
Nowhere can we find a greater animal-workman than the beaver. He belongs
to the great burrowing family, and is also extremely graceful in the
water. Long ago he learned the advantages of co-operation, and he unites
with his fellows in building dams of felled trees, which have been cut
up into suitable length for use in damming up water places. These are
skilfully placed, and with the aid of mud, control the level of the
water in selected places as efficiently as man could do. As a social
animal, the beaver should be ranked among the first; of course, the
various marmots are extremely sociable, but they ordinarily live quite
independently of each other, except in cases where they chance to
congregate because of favourable conditions. The beavers, on the other
hand, thoroughly understand the benefits of united labour, and work
together for the good of the community.
Beavers, if their skill were generally known, would have a great
reputation among their human friends. Recently, at the New York
Zoological Gardens, a visitor was pointing out different animals to his
little son, and when he came to the beaver pond, referred to two of
these dam-builders and tree-cutters, which were swimming through the
water with large sticks in their mouths, as big rats!
Young beavers make their appearance in May, and there are usually from
four to eight to a family. These kittens, as they are called, are odd
looking little fellows, with big heads, large sharp teeth, flat tails,
like little fat paddles, and delicate, soft, mouse-like fur, not at all
coarse like that of their parents. If taken at an early age they make
nice pets and are easily domesticated. In the early days of American
history it was not uncommon to see one running around an Indian lodge,
playing like a child with the little Indians, and frequently receiving
with the papoose nourishment from the mother's breast. Strangely enough,
the cry of the young beaver is exactly like that of the baby child. One
of my friends in Michigan recently stopped at an Indian's house to see a
real live baby beaver. "He cry all same as papoose," remarked the squaw,
as she brought the young beaver out of the house, giving him a little
slap to start him crying--and cry he did!
The body of a grown beaver is usually about thirty inches long, and
something over eleven inches wide; it weighs about sixty pounds. The
fore-paws are quite small in comparison with the rest of the body; the
hind feet are larger, webbed like a duck's feet, and are the principal
motive power in swimming. The most unique feature of the animal's body
is the famous mud-plastering tail, which is oft-times a foot long, five
inches in width, and an inch in thickness. The colour of the beaver
varies; there are black beavers, white beavers, and brown beavers. The
black are the best known.
The beaver is well equipped for defending himself, and for carrying out
his architectural schemes. His jet black tail, which is like a large
paddle, covered with horny scales, he uses in many ways. With it he
turns the body in any desired direction while swimming and diving, and,
in time of danger, employs it as a sound board, or paddle. When alarmed
at night, he dives into the water, and, by means of his tail, splashes
so violently as to give warning to all beavers within a half-mile
distance. The stroke of the tail sounds not unlike a pistol shot. As
soon as a beaver sounds the alarm all others dive underneath the water.
His teeth are expressly suited by nature for cutting and chiselling out
trees.
The dam is the beaver's masterpiece. In the alder or birch swamps, where
he usually lives, he oft-times builds from six to eight little dams from
knoll to knoll, and in this way makes a pond sufficiently large for his
purposes. The average beaver dam is from twenty to thirty feet long; but
they differ greatly in size. There is one on a branch of Arnold's River
in Canada, where the stream is twenty-one feet wide and two feet deep,
which is especially well built. The dam is seven feet high, and rises
five to six feet above the pool. It is constructed mainly of alder
poles, which are arranged side by side, and their length is parallel
with the direction of the current. To create a pond for himself and
provide against drought is the chief aim of the beaver in building his
dam.
Just how these dams are built; who plans the job; who sees that it is
carried out; whether each works under his own impulse or whether they
co-operate; when they begin and how they finish; all these things are
unknown to man. The investigation of such questions is almost
impossible. It is generally believed, however, that beavers work in
gangs under a common "boss" or "overseer," and it is a known fact that
they work only at night. During a dark, rainy night they accomplish
twice as much as on a moonlight night. No doubt the darkness gives them
a sense of security which aids their work. Anyway, in the completed job,
we see the evidences of a skilled engineer and architect, and one who
knew thoroughly what he was about.
The size of a dam depends entirely upon the wishes of its builders and
location and general conditions of land and water. Sometimes the more
ambitious beavers build a dam a quarter of a mile in length. They employ
exactly the same principle as is used in making a mill-dam. Beavers,
however, were building dams long before millers came into existence, and
their methods are fully as scientific as those of man. Mill-dams usually
run straight across a stream, while beaver-dams are so curved that the
water is gently turned to each side. In this way the beaver-dams are
capable of resisting immense quantities of water which in its impetuous
rush would carry away the ordinary mill-dam. Many scientific thinkers
claim that the beaver employs this principle of construction without
knowing it. How absurd! Who can be sure that he doesn't know it?
Scientists of the old school desire proof before they will accept
anything as a fact, yet they themselves repeatedly make wild statements
without proper substantiation.
It is not unusual for a beaver family to select a home on the bank of a
pond, lake, or stream whose waters are sufficiently deep and abundant
for all their needs. In such a case dams are not needed, and regulation
beaver houses are rarely constructed. Instead, apartment houses are
hollowed out from the banks. But in the ease of a town-site on shallow,
narrow waters, dams are absolutely necessary to insure sufficient depth
to conceal the beavers, and to prevent obstruction by ice. The entrance
to the beaver's home is almost always under the water. This arrangement
safeguards the home from predatory enemies.
During the summer months, beavers are inclined to live alone, except
when a new home occupies their attention; but when autumn comes, the
various families of a neighbourhood meet and remain together through the
following spring. In the latter part of August the busy season begins,
and each and every beaver, old and young, aids in repairing the dam and
dwellings, which have been allowed to fall into decay. The cutting and
felling of trees is the first important work to be done.
These interesting "tree-cutters" usually work in pairs, and are
sometimes assisted by younger beavers; thus the family works together in
cutting and felling the trees, but in other forms of labour it seems
that several families work together. If only two are engaged in felling
a tree, they work by turns, and alternately keep guard; this is a
well-known practice of many animals both in work and play. As soon as
the tree begins to bend and crack, they cease cutting and make sure of
their definite direction of escape, then they continue to gnaw until it
begins to fall, whereupon they plunge into the stream, usually, where
they remain for some time lest the noise of the falling tree attract the
attention of enemies.
Their next work is to cut up the tree into sections which they can
remove. If the tree is not too large and has already fallen in the
water, they take it as it is, otherwise it must be cut up and conveyed
to the dam. No professional lumberman better understands how to
transport lumber to a desired place than beavers. They realise the value
of water transportation and thoroughly appreciate that trees can only be
removed downhill. From tame beavers we have learned that they remove
smaller limbs by seizing them with their teeth, throwing the loose end
over their shoulder, and then dragging them to their destination.
These water-loving animals rely mainly upon their native element for the
movement of lumber and food, and to aid this they employ engineering
skill that is rivalled only by their feats of tree-cutting and
dam-building. This constructive faculty is shown largely in their
canal-digging. From one small stream to another, or from one lake to
another, they excavate canals from three to four feet in width, with a
water depth of two feet, and occasionally one hundred and fifty to two
hundred feet in length. The amount of labour they perform is almost
unbelievable; every particle of dirt is carried away between their chin
and fore-paws. This earth is sometimes used in plastering up a nearby
dam or repairing their winter home. Small and tender twigs are
transported to the vicinity of their lodges, and then sunk for winter
food.
Mr. Morgan has made a close study of these canals, and in speaking of
them he says that when he first saw them, and heard them called canals,
he doubted their artificial origin; but upon examination he found that
they were unquestionably beaver excavations. He considers these
artificial canals, by means of which the beavers carry their wood to
their lodges, the supreme act of intelligence on the part of these wise
animals. Even the dam, remarkable as it is, does not show evidence of
greater skill than that displayed in the making of these canals. No one
who has ever understood the ways of the beaver can believe that he is
not exceedingly intelligent. The banks of these canals soon become
covered with growing plants and moss, and they look not unlike slow
sluggish streams winding through the marshy lands.
[Illustration: THE BEAVER IS THE GREATEST OF ALL ANIMAL ARCHITECTS. HIS
SKILL IS EQUALLED ONLY BY HIS PATIENCE.]
The beaver huts, or "lodges" as they are usually called, look not unlike
beehives, somewhat broader at the base, with thick walls and roof,
four to six feet in thickness. They are formed of numbers of poles,
twigs, and small branches of trees, woven together and plastered with
mud, in the same way that the dams are made. Inside the house are
circular chambers formed of mud, which have been smoothed and polished
like waxed floors by the feet of the occupants. Around the outer border
of each polished floor is dry grass used for Mrs. Beaver's nursery, and
here the young beavers sleep and play.
From the outside these beaver huts resemble Esquimaux snow-houses, being
almost circular in form, and domed. The walls are quite thick enough to
keep out the cold, but with all the beaver's ingenuity, he is helpless
against trappers. Summer and winter they are hunted, until now they are
fast becoming extinct. How few people seem fully to realise and care
what is being done to wild animals! They do not seem to know that it is
a crime to take the life of a being unnecessarily. Only human life is
sacred to them! To realize the wonderful work of beavers, and then to
act as we do toward them is unworthy of our civilisation.
An interesting cousin of the beaver, the musquash or muskrat, and called
by the Indians the beaver's "little brother," is also a house-builder
and engineer of no mean abilities. He is at home throughout the greater
part of North America, and, like the beaver, frequents the regions of
slowly flowing streams and large, reed-bordered ponds. Here he mingles
in groups of his own kin, and together they build houses, work and play,
dive and swim, with almost as much skill as their big beaver brothers.