The muskrat is a skilled engineer, and delights in tunnelling. His home

consists of a large rounded chamber which is reached by a long burrow

from the side of a stream. From his main living-room are oftentimes

found a number of smaller chambers or galleries, and these are used to

store food in the form of delicate roots and bits of bark. Some of the

more ambitious muskrats build large houses on piles of mud which rise

out of the water. These houses are usually made of heaps of dead grass

and weeds which are cemented together with mud and clay; at other times

they contain no mud or clay, and seem to be only piles of tender roots

and swamp grasses to be used for food during the long, cold winters.

From his physical appearance, the muskrat is well prepared to do his

work: he is stoutly built, with a body about a foot in length, not

including the tail; has small eyes, and tiny ears, partly covered with

fur. In the winter, as food gets scarce, he begins to eat even the

walls of his house, and by the time his home is gone--spring has

arrived!

A most unusual family of skilled house-builders are the brush-tailed

rat-kangaroos, or Jerboa kangaroos of Australia and Tasmania. They are

no larger than an ordinary rabbit, but they have cousins who are as

large as a man. These rat-kangaroos have most interesting tails, covered

with long hair which forms itself into a crest near the tip. Their homes

are found among small grassy hills, where there are a few trees and

bushes. They scratch out a small hole in the ground, near a tuft of tall

grass, and so bend the grass as to form a complete roof to the house,

which is rather poorly constructed, and whose chief interest lies in the

unusual way the kangaroos have of carrying all the building materials,

like tiny bundles of hay, held compactly in their tails. There is no

other workman among the animals that employs quite this method of

transporting materials.

The rat-kangaroos have a dainty little brown cousin that lives in

Africa, and who is occasionally seen jumping around on the ground,

underneath bushes, and near damp springs. He is very small, not over

three inches in length, and is like a miniature kangaroo, except for his

long tail. Like their great cousins--the kangaroos--Mrs. Jerboa often

carries her babies on her back when she goes out to seek food.

In the Great Sahara Desert, parched and dry, are found numerous cities

of these little animals. With the exception of a few birds, reptiles,

jackals and hyenas, they are the only inhabitants of this barren and

desolate land. From the Arabs we learn that these little animals have

extensive and intricate burrows, consisting of innumerable passages

tunnelled out in the hard, dry soil. And these tunnels are the result of

combined labour on the part of the entire community. The least alarm

causes them to scuffle away into their underground homes.

One of the larger species of Central Asia employs a stratagem that is

remarkable. Like their cousins of Africa, they live in a great

underground city which is a perfect network of burrows which end in a

large central chamber. From this chamber a long winding tunnel

terminates very near the surface of the ground, and it is a long

distance from the other burrows. No sign of its existence appears from

above the surface of the earth, but if an enemy invades the burrow, away

the jerboas rush for this secret exit and break through to the surface

out of reach of the trouble, and escape.

These African jerboas are exceedingly odd in appearance, and they are

two-legged in their habits of walk, and never go on all-fours. They walk

by placing one hind foot alternately before the other; and they run in

the same way. They can leap an extraordinary distance.

Frogs and toads, as a class, are not so skilled in house-building as

some of their higher relations, but there is one of their number--the

_Hyla faber_--that is remarkably gifted in building mud houses. He lives

in Brazil, and the natives call him the _ferreiro_, or smith, and he is

indeed the master-builder of his family. Mrs. Hyla is really the gifted

member of the tribe, and it is during the breeding season that she

diligently dives underneath the water, digs up handfuls of mud, and

builds on the bottom a small circular wall, which encloses a space about

ten to fourteen inches in diameter. This wall is continued until it

reaches about four inches above the surface of the water. It looks not

unlike a small volcano, and the inside is skilfully smoothed. This has

been done by Mrs. Frog's artistic hands. When the house is entirely

completed, Mrs. Frog lays a great number of eggs, and here they are

quite safe from enemies both as eggs and baby tadpoles.

Mr. Frog seems little concerned in the building of the home, but he does

take pleasure in croaking for Mrs. Frog while she works. Perhaps this

is to her heart genuine music, and his faithful attention to their

children makes up for his love of idleness!

Perhaps the strangest animal engineer in the world is found in

Madagascar and Australia. It is the duckbill or duckmole, and is

scientifically known as the _Ornithorhynchus paradoxus_. The natives of

Australia call it by several names: _Mallangong_, _Tambreet_, and not a

few call it, _Tohunbuck_.

This odd little aquatic engineer digs long tunnels of great intricacy in

the bands of lazy rivers, and because of its paradoxical nature and

appearance has caused many strange stories to originate about its habits

and methods of propagation. It has the beak of a duck and waddles not

unlike this bird, but, like other mammals, it gives birth to its young,

and does not lay eggs, as is so often claimed for it. When swimming it

looks like a bunch of floating weeds or grass.

Its home is always on the banks of a stream, and is always provided with

two entrances: one below the surface of the water, and the other above.

This insures escape in case of enemies. The main tunnel or road to the

home is sometimes fifty feet in length, and no engineer could devise a

more deceptive approach; it winds up and down like a huge serpent, to

the right, and to the left, and is so annoyingly variable in its sinuous

course that even the natives have great trouble in digging the duckbill

out of its nest.

The nest is oval in form, and is well-carpeted with dry weeds and grass.

Here the young reside on soft beds until they are large enough to care

for themselves. There are from one to four in each nest.

There are no greater architects in the universe than may be found among

the coral-polypes. These interesting little animals of the deep have

been much misunderstood, and have sometimes had the erroneous

designation of "insect" bestowed upon them. The word "insect" has been

applied in a very loose and general sense in other days; but naturalists

and scientists should see to it that the use of this term be corrected

in reference to these wonderful coral-architects, and that no informed

person refer to them except as animals. Even poets have been guilty of

propagating the most erroneous ideas about the nature and works of these

sea-builders. Montgomery, in his _Pelican Island_, makes statements that

are shocking to an intelligent thinker, and which no scientist can

excuse on the ground of poetical license. "The poetry of this excellent

author," says Dana, "is good, but the facts nearly all errors--if

literature allows of such an incongruity." Think of coral-animals as

being referred to as shapeless worms that "writhe and shrink their

tortuous bodies to grotesque dimensions"! These deep-sea builders

manufacture or secrete from their own bodies the coral substance out of

which the great reefs are built. It is a part of their life work and

nature, as a flower produces its own colours and shapes; it is amusing

to know that it has only been about one hundred and fifty years since it

was discovered not to be a plant but an animal! Even Ovid states the

popular belief of the classic period when he speaks of the coral as a

seaweed "which existed in a soft state as long as it remained in the

sea, but had the curious property of becoming hard on exposure to the

air."

These strange coral-producing animals of the deep demand two especially

important conditions only under which they will thrive: namely, a

certain depth of water and a certain temperature. Thus it is seen that

the warmth of the sea determines the distribution of the corals; the

geography of these animals is defined by degrees of temperature. Only in

equatorial seas may reef-building corals be found; and if we select the

"Equator as a natural centre of the globe, and measure off a band of

1800 miles in breadth on each side of that line," we will find that it

will include the chief coral regions of the earth.

The work of the corals is most interesting. Small as are these tiny

workmen, each and every one does his bit and, speck by speck, adds his

minute contribution to the growing mass of coral until entire islands

are surrounded by extensive reefs. Tahiti, for example, is surrounded by

a barrier reef which is really an immense wall. The large barrier reef

on the northeast coast of Australia extends in a continuous line for

1,000 miles, and varies from 10 to 90 miles in breadth. Some reefs are

mere fringes which simply skirt the coast lands, and seem to be mere

extensions of the beach. Still another variety of reef is known as the

"atoll" or "lagoon" reef. This latter form is seen in circular rings of

coral of various breadths which enclose a body of still water--the

lagoon. There are many of these coral islands in the Indian and Pacific

Oceans. Keeling or Cocos Atoll, of the Indian Ocean, is 9-1/2 miles in

its greatest width; Bow Island is 30 miles in length, and 6 miles wide;

while in the Maldive Archipelago one island measures 88 geographical

miles in length, and in some places is 20 miles wide. When one beholds a

large coral ring, covered with rich soil and tropical vegetation, and

"protecting a quiet lake-haven from the restless ocean without, it is

little to be wondered at that the earlier voyagers recorded their

surprise that the apparently insignificant architects of such an

erection are able to withstand the force of the waves and to preserve

their works among the continual attacks of the sea." As Pyrard de Laval

truly said, "It is a marvel to see each of these atollons surrounded on

all sides by a great bank of stone--walls such as no human hands could

build on the space of earth allotted to them.... Being in the middle of

an atollon, you see all around you this great stone bank, which

surrounds and protects the island from the waves; but it is a formidable

attempt, even for the boldest, to approach the bank and watch the waves

roll in, and break with fury upon the shore."

As to the explanation of the modes of formation of these coral-reefs,

the scientists have long been propounding theories which are sometimes

amusing. Strangely enough they have nearly all explained that

coral-polypes aggregate themselves in the forms of atolls and

barrier-reefs by a mysterious "instinct," mediocrity's only term for

screening its ignorance, and which is also given as the cause for their

secreting lime. Flinders says that they form a great protecting reef in

order that they may be protected by its shelter, and that the leeward

aspect of the reef forms a nursery for their infant colonies.

Thus we see that these same scientists are accrediting these little

architects with the possession of a great intelligence, and they are

thought to co-operate together in a manner expressive of the greatest

degree of efficiency and brotherly feeling. Each of these scientists

gives a theory that leaves untouched the essential question of the

causes for coral-reefs assuming their various shapes; and it is

reasonable to believe that they work according to a divine wisdom and

plan, and that mankind does not yet understand their strange ways, which

give us a higher conception of the universe than that held by the

ancients. Science has come to the point where it must recognise the

perfect unity of all life, and that our fellow-architects, engineers,

and house-builders in the animal world also fill an important place in

Nature's great scheme.

XI

FOOD CONSERVERS

_"He prayeth well who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all."_

--COLERIDGE.

It can almost be said that there is no industry or profession of the

human world that is not carried on with equal skill in the animal world.

This is especially true of merchandising and store-keeping; animals,

however, have different methods of merchandising than men, although

these methods are none the less real. They give and take instead of buy

and sell and have co-operative shops which they operate with great

success. They unite for a desired end, and demonstrate their ability to

work together in a common enterprise in a way that might teach man a

good lesson.

Food and shelter are the first needs of animals. In order to obtain

these, they group themselves into foraging parties in the most ingenious

manner. Like mankind, they sometimes co-operate for dishonest ends; they

form "trusts" and organise into gangs for purposes of mutual aid.

Deer, monkeys, rabbits, foxes, and numerous others conduct their

dining-rooms on a co-operative principle. Some watch and wait while

others dine. The same is true where they go to watering places to drink

and bathe.

Perhaps the most unique and clever food conserver is the American

polecat. He not only provides for himself, but prepares a larder for his

young, so that they will have plenty of food. The nursery is usually

comfortably embedded in a cave, and is lined with soft, dry grass.

Adjoining this nursery is a larder, which often contains from ten to

fifty large frogs and toads, all alive, but so dexterously bitten

through the brain as to make them incapable of escaping. Mr. and Mrs.

Pole-cat can then visit or hunt as they please, so long as their

children have plenty of fresh meat at home!

Another interesting food conserver is the chipping squirrel, or

chipmunk, so named because his cry sounds like the chirp of little

chickens. His method of dress is most unusual; he is brownish grey in

colour, with five stripes of black and two of pale yellow running along

the back of his coat; the throat and lower part of his body is snowy

white. These colours occasionally vary, when the grey and yellow are

superseded by black.

His home is underground, usually under an old wall, near a rock fence,

or under a tree; his burrow is so long and winding that he can easily

escape almost any enemy, except the weasel, which is not easily

outwitted. His nursery and living-room is quite pretentious, but his

lateral storeroom is a marvel! He is a miser indeed, and stores up every

acorn and nut he can find, even many times more than he can ever eat.

His variety of food is almost unending--he loves buckwheat, beaked nuts,

pecans, various kinds of grass seeds, and Indian corn. In carrying food

to his home he first fills his pouches to overflowing and then takes

another nut in his mouth; he thus reminds the classical reader of

Alemaeon in the treasury of Croesus.

The hedgehog is a regular Solomon in her methods of collecting fruit.

Plutarch had a very high opinion of her. He says that when grapes are

ripe, the mother hedgehog goes under the vines and shakes them until

some of the grapes fall; she then literally rolls over them until many

are attached to her spines, and marches back to her babies in the

cave. "One day," says Plutarch, "when we were all together, we had the

chance of seeing this with our own eyes--it looked as if a bunch of

grapes was shuffling along the ground, so thickly covered was the animal

with its booty."

[Illustration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

THE SKUNK MOTHER TRIES TO KEEP ON HAND A GOOD SUPPLY OF SUCH DELICACIES

AS FROGS AND TOADS, SO THAT HER YOUNG MAY NEVER GO HUNGRY.]

[Illustration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

THE PORCUPINE AND THE HEDGEHOG HAVE A UNIQUE METHOD OF COLLECTING FOOD

FOR THEIR YOUNG. AFTER SHAKING DOWN BERRIES OR GRAPES, THEY ROLL IN

THEM, THEN HURRY HOME WITH THE FOOD ATTACHED TO THEIR QUILLS.]

Alpine mice not only form comfortable winter homes in the earth, but

combine into small winter colonies, each colony numbering about ten to

twelve inhabitants, all of whom are under the direction of a leader.

Thus organised, they proceed to lay up provisions for the winter. They

use their mouths as scythes and their paws as rotary machines. Surely

their wisdom and foresight call forth our greatest admiration. The

jerboas or jumping mice are not only skilled athletes in the art of

jumping, but they are gifted food conservers and producers as well. They

lay up complete storehouses of food, which they do not consume

altogether as their appetite may direct; but conserve it carefully for

the times when nothing can be obtained from the fields. Then, and then

only, do they open the closed magazines. Such acts of intelligence

cannot be recorded under the head of "instinct"! They demonstrate the

ability to plan for the future, and meet all emergencies.

Certain food hoarders and robbers, like the vole, are so very greedy and

become such misers that they often threaten total destruction to large

areas of grain. They were so plentiful in the classic land of Thessaly,

the vale of Tempe, and the Land of Olympus that the old Greeks

established what they called an Apollo Smintheus, the Mouse-destroying

God. In the early spring, according to Professor Loeffler, who has made

a special study of their invasions, they begin to come down from their

homes in the hills to the cultivated fields. They seem to follow regular

roads, and often travel along the railroad embankment. They travel very

slowly, and when at home live somewhat on the order of prairie dogs,

that is, in underground dwellings with numerous winding passages and

tunnels.

These wise little food conservers are nocturnal in habit, and are rarely

seen except by careful observers. When they once determine to rob a

field, they do it with amazing rapidity and completeness. In a single

night hordes of these workers go into a cornfield and by daylight not a

stalk of corn remains. The field is as empty as if a cyclone had struck

it. They work with great system, and while a part of their number cut

the stalks down, others cut it up into movable sizes, while still others

superintend its systematic removal. Storehouses are usually provided

before the grain is even cut. They make long voyages throughout a

country, storing away tons of grain and food in these various

granaries. To these they come for supplies whenever necessary. All

poverty-stricken voles are also fed from these storehouses, since it is

the product of the community as a whole. Aristotle wrote at length about

their wise and destructive ways.

Not the least ingenious of food conservers are the hamsters, members of

the great rodent family. They have made their dwellings most comfortable

and even luxurious in arrangement and furnishings. Like wealthy farmers,

they are not satisfied with comfortable dwellings only, but they too

must have spacious barns adjoining their homes. Their home, or burrow

proper, consists of two openings: one, which is used as an entrance, and

which sinks vertically into the ground; the other, which is used as an

exit, with a winding slope. The central room is beautifully carpeted

with straw, moss, and dry leaves, which makes it a very pleasant

living-room and bedroom. A third small winding tunnel leads from this

room to the barns and storehouse. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. Hamster and the

children have no need to go forth in the cold and wet weather to seek

food--they can remain at home perfectly protected and well-fed. They are

very liberal, and in case of need or poverty, will always share their

food with their neighbours.

I once found the nest of a harvest mouse, which was woven of plaited

blades of straw of the oats and wheat. It was perfectly round, with the

aperture so ingeniously closed that I could scarcely tell to what part

of the nest it belonged. It was as round as a marble and would actually

roll when placed on a table, although within its walls were six tiny

mice, naked and blind. As they increased in size day by day, the elastic

wall of their small home expanded, and thus served their need until such

time as they were old enough to live independent of this specially

provided shelter.

There is a larger animal, known as a "rat-hare" or the harvest rat,

which gathers piles of hay for winter use, sometimes to the height of

six or eight feet in diameter. They begin harvesting in the early part

of August, and after having cut the grass, they carefully spread it out

to dry before placing it in their barns. These barns are usually located

in holes or crevices of mountains. They are found in immense numbers in

the Altai Mountains.

The California woodrat is not only a food hoarder but a notable thief

and robber. A nest was found that was a veritable tool chest and pawn

shop! It contained fourteen knives, three forks, six small spoons, one

large soup spoon, twenty-seven large nails, hundreds of small tacks, two

butcher knives, three pairs of eye-glasses, one purse, one string of

beads, one rubber ball, two small cakes of soap, one string of red

peppers, several boxes of matches, with numerous small buttons, needles,

and pins. Apparently these woodrats are as ambitious for unnecessary and

useless possessions as is man himself. Their big storeroom did, however,

contain a larder in which they had some of their favourite food, such as

seeds and nuts.

Some animals have learned not only to acquire, but also to defend and

protect, all their property. We see in the human world how strong is the

impulse to collect, and children will invariably collect anything from

pebbles to peach-pits, if they see other children doing the same thing.

Most animals that do not hoard are those that forage for food, or fish,

and rarely have permanent homes. The orang-outangs, for example, are

regular gipsies, and go from place to place wherever food is plentiful.

They take life easy, and sometimes during their journeys select a

suitable spot near the seashore and have a real picnic. A scout has

already discovered the right spot for getting big oysters, of which they

are exceedingly fond, and when they have assembled, certain ones proceed

to dig up the oysters, which they hand to others on the shore and they,

in turn, place them on big stones, and proceed to open them for the

feast. If one of the fishermen-monkeys discovers an oyster open, he will

not insert his hand to remove the meat until first placing a stone

between the valves. This assures him protection against the closing of

the oyster. In most cases, they open the oysters by first placing them

on stones and then using another stone as a hammer. These facts are

vouched for by no less authorities than Gamelli Carreri, Dampier, and

Wafer.

It is only a matter of time until many animals will understand the use

of man-made tools. Some have already learned to use such tools as they

make and shape for themselves. Monkeys and apes are already gifted in

this art. Of course, under domestication, they use knives, forks,

spoons, and dishes not so much from intelligence as from imitation.

This, however, might be said of many human beings. I have seen an

immense chimpanzee sit in a chair, set his own dinner table, use his

knife and fork correctly when eating, and take great delight in the use

of his napkin, which he always carefully refolded when his meal was

over.

The human-like qualities of apes and monkeys, however, need scarcely be

told. They are so very similar to man in most ways that there are few

things they cannot do. Aelian tells of an ape which learned to drive

horses skilfully. He knew just when and how to use the whip, how much

slack to allow in the reins, and when to tighten them! They greatly

resent any intrusion on their hunting-grounds, and make use of sticks

and clubs to protect them. The chief is always armed with a club, and is

thoroughly skilled in the use of it. It sometimes happens that an

elephant will come to the same tree to seek food that apes frequent, and

although they have no enmity towards each other, they like the same kind

of food. As soon as the ape sees the elephant reaching his trunk among

the branches, he immediately slips near the elephant, and when an

opportunity presents itself, he whacks him over the trunk with his club!

The infuriated elephant runs away in terror!

The Human Side of Animals · 第 9 / 13 段