with the purpose of robbing it, and discovered two men. They immediately
rushed upon them and attempted to poke their eyes out with sticks and
would have succeeded but for the intervention of two other men who
chanced to be near. The extreme cleverness of apes in applying their
reason and judgment is shown in Vosmaer's account of the female
orang-outang, who tried to open the padlock of her chain with a small
stick. She had seen her master open it with a key, and she exactly
imitated the motion of his hands in the attempt.
Man shows a disposition to deny animals all traits and characteristics
which are similar to his own. This reminds us of a remark that Cardinal
Newman once made that men know less of animals than they do of angels.
Why should we show such foolish pride and delusion, and try to baffle
one of God's great facts? When men attempt to extinguish the idea of
animal intelligence and sentiment by referring to it as instinct, we are
reminded of the desert ostrich, which buries its head in the sand and
thinks it cannot be seen. We should proudly acknowledge the wonderful
human-like methods of these food conservers of the animal world, and
recognise in all this a guiding Providence who provides for and protects
all his creatures, be they great or small.
XII
TOURISTS AND SIGHT-SEERS
_"Every night we must look, lest the down slope
Between us and the woods turn suddenly
To a grey onrush full of small green candles,
The charging pack with eyes flaming for flesh.
And well for us then if there's no more mist
Than the white panting of the wolfish hunger."_
The desire to travel and see the great world is by no means peculiar to
the human race. It is found among animals to such a degree that groups
of them will often leave their homes in one country and journey to
another. These strange wanderlust habits are noticed even by the casual
observer, and no special insight is required to see that these wise
creatures have their annual tours excellently arranged and marked out.
Their route is possibly as definitely arranged before starting, as is
the route of a human traveller. They have their selected eating places
arranged, know every danger spot and the enemies they are likely to
encounter.
The members of these co-operative tours take life tickets, and each tour
lasts about one year. One of the most unusual instances of such
co-operation is that of the lemmings of the Scandinavian countries.
These are animals of the mouse tribe, which live in the mountainous
districts. They live upon roots and grasses. They breed very rapidly. At
certain times they go from the centre of Norway to the east and west,
crossing valley, hill, and river in great masses. Many are destroyed by
birds and beasts of prey, but finally the survivors reach the Atlantic
on the Gulf of Bothnia and, for some strange unknown reason, plunge in
and die. Only enough remain from one season to another to propagate the
species. It is an immense co-operative suicide society.
Rivers and valleys are sometimes effectual barriers. On the plains of
the Amazon great numbers of animals are found on one side of the river
only; these have not been able to cross to the other. On the north side
of the Rio Negro are two varieties of monkeys, the _brachiurus conxion_
and the _jacchus bicolor_, which are unknown on the south side. Of
course, water-loving animals, such as seals, whales, and porpoises are
at home in the water and can swim for days without stopping. Quite a few
animals can swim for a short distance, but comparatively few for long
distances. In the early days in North America it was not uncommon for
buffalo to swim across the Mississippi River. Rats and squirrels often
migrate in great numbers. It oftentimes happens that Arctic animals
travel from one place to another on floating ice. In the South American
waters it is a common sight to see floating islands covered with plants
and trees upon which there are live animals; and while these animals are
likely to perish, they are oftentimes carried safely to land. Eagles
have often been instrumental in bringing new species of animals to
islands where they had previously been unknown, their purpose being to
provide food for their own young. Some of these animals would escape and
henceforth become citizens of their new habitation.
An interesting division of migrants is that of the casual travellers,
like the men and women who always remain at home except when special
business calls them away. Sudden climatic changes, or the scarcity of
food, often cause stay-at-home animals to make tours into new
territories. As a good instance, I might cite the case of three wolves,
which I saw entering Jackson Park in Chicago, during very severe weather
when Lake Michigan was frozen over. The morning papers stated that
because of forest fires in Michigan, and the extreme cold, which not
only made food scarce for the wild animals of Michigan, but froze the
Lake, many of them had come across the ice into the great Chicago parks
seeking food and shelter.
The subject of animal travel is full of interesting and difficult
problems, and not the least interesting nor the least difficult is the
question of just how they find their way to and from various places.
Many naturalists tell us that these animals are led by inherited
instinct along the migration lines followed by their forefathers. But
even if this were true, what made them originally follow such a course?
Wild horses when travelling always have a leader as well as several
sentinels for each herd. By some unknown code this leader makes known
his wishes and directs the movements of the herd. No human army could
have greater order or more perfect obedience to commands; and under him
there is absolute unity by means of which the carnivorous animals, such
as the wolf, the jaguar, and the puma, are repelled. Wild deer
invariably have a leader, and while we do not know how he obtains his
position, nor how he directs his followers, we do know he is highly
successful in his efforts.
No act in the animal world bespeaks more intelligence than that of
placing sentinels, especially during a journey. Horses show striking
skill and ingenuity in the choosing and placing of their sentinels. Any
one who has been fortunate enough to have seen them travelling in the
forests of South America, where the wild horses are gregarious, and
travel in herds of five hundred to a thousand, has noticed that
sentinels are always stationed around the herd. These animals are not
well prepared for fighting, and experience has taught them that their
greatest safety is in flight, and so, when they graze or sleep,
sentinels are always on the look-out for enemies. If a man approaches,
the sentinel at first walks toward him, as if to make sure what the
enemy is, and what he desires, if the man goes nearer to the herd, the
sentinel neighs in a most peculiar tone. Immediately the herd is
aroused, and gallops away, not in confusion, but perfect order, as
though its members were human soldiers.
The same is true of the white-legged peccaries, so plentiful in Guiana.
They congregate by the thousands, choose a leader whose position is
always at the front, and travel for hundreds of miles through the great
forests. If they come to a river, the leader halts, as if to make sure
that all is well for crossing, then he plunges into the water and is
followed by his immense army. The sureness of the leader would suggest
that he has been over the same route many times before--perhaps this is
why he has been chosen! If an enemy appears, or any form of danger is
approached, they carry on an immense amount of chattering and proceed
only when they have talked it out. Any hunter that should be foolish
enough to attack them, unless he were already up a tree, would be torn
to pieces with their terrible teeth and tusks. They are as bloodthirsty
as the wild boars of the Black Forest of Germany, and will sometimes
actually tear down a tree up which an enemy has escaped, that they may
kill him.
The African apes have an interesting way of sending their sentinel to
the top of an adjacent rock or tree, that he may look over the
surrounding valleys and plantations before they go to plunder a garden
or field. If he sees any danger, he utters a loud shriek, and the entire
troop immediately runs away. The monkeys of Brazil post a guard while
they sleep; the same is true of the chamois and other species of wild
antelope.
A few years ago, many of the sheep in the northern part of Wales had
become quite wild, and they usually grazed in parties of twelve to
twenty, always having a sentinel so stationed as to command a prominent
view of the surrounding territory. If any animal or person came near, he
would give a peculiar hiss or whistle, repeating it two or three times,
at which the whole herd would scamper away to places of safety.
One of the most striking facts about migration is its never-failing
regularity and success. Most animals migrate at the recurrence of the
breeding season. Of these, the great sea-turtle, which seeks the shallow
water and deep sandy hills when ready to lay her eggs, is well known.
Notwithstanding the great risks that practically all travelling animals
assume, they are successful as a whole in their travels, and many return
to bear testimony to a successful trip even across continents and
sometimes the ocean. They migrate, for a variety of reasons. When it is
not for a more desirable climate, nor more food, nor even better
breeding grounds, we must either believe it is because of the natural
desire to travel, or frankly admit that we do not understand it.
The Icelandic mice have probably the most curious methods of travelling
of all migratory animals. Dr. Henderson, an authority on Iceland, not
only verifies the fact himself, but gives the names of many prominent
investigators who have seen the mice crossing small rivers and streams
on thin pieces of dry board, dragging them to the water, launching them,
and then going aboard their little rafts. They then turn their heads to
the centre, and their tails, which hang in the water, are used as
paddles and rudders until they reach the destined shore.
Among travellers none are more famed than the camels. In their sphere
and use they are supreme, and Nature has prepared them especially for
travelling on the dry, hot, and barren deserts. They are truly the
"ships of the desert" for they travel on a sea of sand, and their
pad-like feet, so poorly adapted for travel on moist soil, is admirably
suited to the desert sands. They are capable of travelling many days
without food or water, and are used extensively in the desert regions of
the East not only as beasts of burden but for their milk, which is an
important article of diet in those countries where the camel is at home.
Animals that do not migrate, especially those living in cold climates,
change their clothing at regular intervals. Their hair or fur increases
in thickness in winter. If we compare the Indian and African elephants
of to-day, whose delicate thin hair is scarcely noticeable, with the
great extinct mammoth, which had an enormous amount of woolly fur, we
readily see the great difference in their clothing. Yet these animals
are members of the same great family. The same difference may be
noted with horses: the Arabian horse, for example, has short,
glistening fur, while those of Iceland and Norway have very thick fur;
the same is true of Northern and Southern sheep. Animals which live in
temperate regions, put on much thicker coats in winter, and shed them as
summer approaches.
[Illustration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_
THE BLACK BEAR IS NOT ONE OF THE GREAT MIGRATING ANIMALS. THE THICKNESS
OF HIS COAT MUST THEREFORE CHANGE WITH THE SEASONS.]
[Illustration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_
RABBITS SEEM TO HAVE A WELL-DEVISED SYSTEM IN THEIR ROAD-BUILDING,
RUNNING THEIR PATHS IN AND OUT OF UNDERBRUSH IN A TRULY INGENIOUS
MANNER.]
The love of their original homes is one of the most striking features of
certain animal travellers. The fierce struggle for existence and the
territory required for an animal's home largely determine the amount of
effort they make to seize and hold certain possessions. A pair of
wildcats, for example, require a comparatively small hunting ground. But
this they will defend against invasion even to the point of death. There
are many more evidences showing the animals' love of home, and that they
also know the meaning of home-sickness.
Not a few animals have learned definitely to lay out and obtain
recognition for the boundaries of their respective ranging-grounds. This
is amply proven by their respect and recognition of rights of way.
Animals of certain farms seem to know the exact boundaries of their
grazing lands and pastures, and to teach this knowledge to their young.
In addition they often police their lands and pastures against
intruders. Woe unto any traveller found on the wrong highway! It is not
uncommon for the transgressor to be pushed from a right of way to the
rocks below. More than once a court's decision regarding disputable
territory has been based on the sheep's recognition of boundary; those
sheep slain in battle or otherwise injured while trying to invade the
questionable territory have been paid for by the owner of the
transgressing sheep.
It is easy to understand how sheep can recognise their rights of way,
but somewhat difficult to account for their knowledge of boundaries.
Sheep and goats have for ages been the greatest mountain-path and
road-makers. Whether or not they have engineers, we are not sure, but
they seem to select the shortest, easiest, and best route across the
trackless hills, and never seem to change the way. In these localities,
the sheep are almost in a primitive condition, and "not the least
interesting feature of their conduct in this relapse to the wild life is
that, in spite of the highly artificial condition in which they live
to-day, they retain the primitive instincts of their race."
That this "peremptory and path-keeping" instinct is shown by the habits
of the musk-ox, is clear. He is as much akin to the sheep as to cattle,
and in habits more like those of the great prehistoric sheep as we
imagine these to have been. The musk-ox naturally assembles in large
flocks, and is migratory, just as the domesticated flocks of Spain are,
and those of Thrace and the Caspian steppe. These flocks always return
from the barren lands in the far north by the same road, and cross
rivers by the same fords. Nothing but too persistent slaughter at these
points by the enemies who beset them, induces them to desert their
ancient highways. Pictures and anecdotes of the migrations of these
animals, and of the bison in former days, represent them as moving on a
broad front across the prairie or tundra. The examples of all moving
multitudes suggest that this was not their usual formation on the march,
and their roads prove that they moved on a narrow front or in file. On
the North American prairie, though the bison are extinct, their great
roads still remain as evidence of their former habits. These trails are
paths worn on the prairie, nearly all running due north and south (the
line of the old migration of the herds), like gigantic rabbit tracks.
They are hard, the grass on them is green and short, and, if followed,
they generally lead near water, to which a diverging track runs from the
highway.
How interesting must have been the life on this great animal highway,
before the Indian made the deadly arrow to destroy these nature-loving
travellers! There is no doubt but that, in their own way, these animals
felt all the emotions known to a human traveller; that they enjoyed the
flowery road, rested and played when weary, looked forward with joy to
their favourite watering and bathing places, and recognised old watering
places that they had visited for years.
The great roads and highways made by graminivorous animals, from those
which the hippopotamus cuts through the mammoth canes and reeds of the
African streams, to the smaller rabbit highways of England and America,
all tell their own story of how these animals live and travel. The
principal roads of rabbits over hills are as permanent as sheep and
buffalo roads. These roads, however, should not be confused with the
little trails that lead to their play and feeding grounds.
My friend and fellow-naturalist, Ralph Stuart Murray, in writing to me
from Quebec, says: "In speaking of animal road builders, I might say
that the rabbit or hare of the north woods deserves much attention, for
greatly interesting are his highways. The life of the north woods brings
one constantly in touch with these roads, which, after generations upon
generations of constant use, are worn deep and smooth into the moose
grass and muskeg through which they run. At places, several distinct
paths intersect, and it is curious to note that while these roads wind
in and out underneath the low hanging evergreens, the 'cross-roads' will
invariably be located in a clear open space, often on the top of some
small hillock.
"The great age of these roads is very evident when compared with the
newer, shallower paths of more recent years. So deep are the old ones,
in fact, that the quiet watcher in the woods will occasionally see two
large, upright ears--unmistakably those of a rabbit, seemingly sticking
out of a hole in the ground--yet moving at a rapid pace, and all the
while no rabbit in view. For all the world these vertical ears belonging
to an unseen owner resemble in use and appearance the periscope of a
submarine--the difference being that the rabbit uses his 'periscopes'
for hearing, in order to locate and avoid his foe, the submarine its
periscope to locate and attack its enemy."
The sheep terraces, which are so common on the sides of hills, though
made by sheep, are not roads, but feeding grounds. Sheep, when walking
on a hillside, invariably graze on the upper side, as they cannot reach
the lower grass. Therefore they walk backwards and forwards on the
slope, just as a reaping machine is driven over a hillside wheat-field.
As the sheep takes a "neck's length" each time, the little ridges or
roads correspond exactly with the measurements of the sheep's neck.
There are as many kinds of roads and terminals in the animal world as
there are in the human, and lest our pride make us forget, we should
remember that even the Panama Canal is dug according to the plan of a
crawfish's canal, such as may be seen near any muddy stream. It is
strange that no animal has learned to build elevated roads, though
animals that live in trees, like flying squirrels, monkeys, and flying
foxes, are very skilled in going from one tree to another. They have
regular aerial highways, and some of the tree frogs are veritable
wonders in the accuracy of their leaps from tree to tree. Even more
skilled than these are the agamid lizards of India, whose chief means of
travel is a folding parachute, which at a moment's notice can be erected
and carry to another tree its lucky possessor. In Borneo is an aviator
tree-snake which is able to so spread his ribs and inflate his body that
he can actually sail from branch to branch in the tree-tops.
There are night travellers as well as day travellers; in fact, there are
more animals that roam around in a great forest at night than in the
daytime. They sleep during the day, when the day animals are roaming
about, and go forth to roam when it is night. It is then they seek for
prey, and are much feared by day animals. They see well in the dark, and
travel so lightly that their footsteps cannot be heard.
On the Island of Java are found a family of strange, dwarfish little
beings, which are called by the natives malmags, or hobgoblins. And they
are well named, for they look like creatures of a distorted imagination
more than real, living animals. They travel only at night, and so
superstitious are the natives of their evil influence that if one of
these uncanny little creatures appears near their rice fields, the
plantation is immediately abandoned. However, these small creatures are
no larger than squirrels, and are perfectly harmless. They are very rare
even in their native lands--the Oriental Archipelago and the Philippine
Islands. They rear their young in the hollow roots of bamboo trees, and
to disturb their nests means to incur the evil of all the land.
Night animals do not go forth to travel and seek prey until the night is
far advanced, and their prey is soundly sleeping. They seem to know the
exact time of the night, as if they had watches or clocks, and they
usually go forth to hunt about midnight and return to their homes about
four o'clock. Only in cases of extreme hunger do they vary from this
rule.
How marvellously skilled are they in finding their way! They pass
through a crowded forest as though it were daytime, and strangely enough
know just how to return to their lairs. This special sense or gift is
not possessed by man; he must have marks and signs to return to a
definite place.
These night-travellers number among their lot bats, flying squirrels,
leopards, and prowling snakes.
Bats are not only the most interesting of the night-travellers, but by
far the most curious and wonderful animals in the world. They are
hideously ugly, reminding one more of a miniature, closed-up umbrella
than an animal! They are coarse, awkward, when not in flight, and
repellent; yet they have such highly developed senses that they have no
rivals in the animal world. They excel most birds in flight, are able to
make long nightly journeys, in which they use their wings not only for
flight, but as air-bags in which they catch all kinds of flying insects.
Their sense of touch as we know it is really a combination of touch,
sight, and hearing.
A bat is a paradox par excellence! Nature seems to have started to make
a little bear or fox, and suddenly forgot how and changed it into a
winged freak, with tail, claws, fur, sharp teeth, small ears that stand
up, and tiny, half-buried eyes. Its queer angular-edged wings look like
an umbrella, with the cloth stretched over steel ribs; but in the case
of the bat, this framework is made of delicate bones which are covered
with a thin skin. The skin contains numerous little sense organs dotted
over its surface, which give the bat his strange power.
Bats look more like mice than they do like birds, and they are sometimes
called flittermice. But they are mammals, and the young are fed with
milk by the mother, just as a cow feeds her calf. There is no danger
that a bat will ever fly against you in the dark; for they can avoid all
mishap even when their eyes are put out. They have special sense organs
that tell them when they are nearing an object, and can fly at headlong
speed with the accuracy of a rifle bullet directly into a small opening.
This power is all due to the mysterious sense located in their wings and
ears, which causes even man to consider his senses weak in comparison.
Bats are sociable creatures and huddle together and sleep in vast
numbers during the day, but when night comes on they come forth for
their nocturnal travels and sport by the millions. I have seen them
leaving caves just at dusk in such numbers as to look like one immense
volume of smoke, twenty to thirty feet wide, and lasting for more than
five minutes. Mrs. Bat often takes her babies with her on these nightly
travels. I found one with two young clinging to her breast. How they
must enjoy these lovely trips!
There are many kinds and varieties of bats, ranging in size from the
flying foxes of the tropical world, with wings five feet in length, to
the wood bat of North America, which is not over six inches long. These
interesting friends of man are his greatest scavengers of the air. They
are doing much to check the mosquitoes throughout the regions of the
world, and in more civilized communities man makes shelters for them,
that they may eradicate mosquitoes.
XIII
ANIMAL SCAVENGERS AND CRIMINALS
_"A warning from these pages take,
And know this truth sublime--
Each creature is a criminal
When he commits a crime."_