Reptiles offer us many similar examples. The most arboreal lizards, the

iguanas, are as green as the leaves they feed upon, and the slender

whip-snakes are rendered almost invisible as they glide among the

foliage by a similar colouration. How difficult it is sometimes to catch

sight of the little green tree-frogs sitting on the leaves of a small

plant enclosed in a glass case in the Zoological Gardens; yet how much

better concealed must they be among the fresh green damp foliage of a

marshy forest. There is a North-American frog found on lichen-covered

rocks and walls, which is so coloured as exactly to resemble them, and

as long as it remains quiet would certainly escape detection. Some of

the geckos which cling motionless on the trunks of trees in the tropics,

are of such curiously marbled colours as to match exactly with the bark

they rest upon.

In every part of the tropics there are tree-snakes that twist among

boughs and shrubs, or lie coiled up on the dense masses of foliage.

These are of many distinct groups, and comprise both venomous and

harmless genera; but almost all of them are of a beautiful green

colour, sometimes more or less adorned with white or dusky bands and

spots. There can be little doubt that this colour is doubly useful to

them, since it will tend to conceal them from their enemies, and will

lead their prey to approach them unconscious of danger. Dr. Gunther

informs me that there is only one genus of true arboreal snakes (Dipsas)

whose colours are rarely green, but are of various shades of black,

brown, and olive, and these are all nocturnal reptiles, and there can be

little doubt conceal themselves during the day in holes, so that the

green protective tint would be useless to them, and they accordingly

retain the more usual reptilian hues.

Fishes present similar instances. Many flat fish, as for example the

flounder and the skate, are exactly the colour of the gravel or sand on

which they habitually rest. Among the marine flower gardens of an

Eastern coral reef the fishes present every variety of gorgeous colour,

while the river fish even of the tropics rarely if ever have gay or

conspicuous markings. A very curious case of this kind of adaptation

occurs in the sea-horses (Hippocampus) of Australia, some of which bear

long foliaceous appendages resembling seaweed, and are of a brilliant

red colour; and they are known to live among seaweed of the same hue, so

that when at rest they must be quite invisible. There are now in the

aquarium of the Zoological Society some slender green pipe-fish which

fasten themselves to any object at the bottom by their prehensile

tails, and float about with the current, looking exactly like some

simple cylindrical algae.

It is, however, in the insect world that this principle of the

adaptation of animals to their environment is most fully and strikingly

developed. In order to understand how general this is, it is necessary

to enter somewhat into details, as we shall thereby be better able to

appreciate the significance of the still more remarkable phenomena we

shall presently have to discuss. It seems to be in proportion to their

sluggish motions or the absence of other means of defence, that insects

possess the protective colouring. In the tropics there are thousands of

species of insects which rest during the day clinging to the bark of

dead or fallen trees; and the greater portion of these are delicately

mottled with gray and brown tints, which though symmetrically disposed

and infinitely varied, yet blend so completely with the usual colours of

the bark, that at two or three feet distance they are quite

undistinguishable. In some cases a species is known to frequent only one

species of tree. This is the case with the common South American

long-horned beetle (Onychocerus scorpio) which, Mr. Bates informed me,

is found only on a rough-barked tree, called Tapiriba, on the Amazon. It

is very abundant, but so exactly does it resemble the bark in colour and

rugosity, and so closely does it cling to the branches, that until it

moves it is absolutely invisible! An allied species (O. concentricus)

is found only at Para, on a distinct species of tree, the bark of which

it resembles with equal accuracy. Both these insects are abundant, and

we may fairly conclude that the protection they derive from this strange

concealment is at least one of the causes that enable the race to

flourish.

Many of the species of Cicindela, or tiger beetle, will illustrate this

mode of protection. Our common Cicindela campestris frequents grassy

banks, and is of a beautiful green colour, while C. maritima, which is

found only on sandy sea-shores, is of a pale bronzy yellow, so as to be

almost invisible. A great number of the species found by myself in the

Malay islands are similarly protected. The beautiful Cicindela gloriosa,

of a very deep velvety green colour, was only taken upon wet mossy

stones in the bed of a mountain stream, where it was with the greatest

difficulty detected. A large brown species (C. heros) was found chiefly

on dead leaves in forest paths; and one which was never seen except on

the wet mud of salt marshes was of a glossy olive so exactly the colour

of the mud as only to be distinguished when the sun shone, by its

shadow! Where the sandy beach was coralline and nearly white, I found a

very pale Cicindela; wherever it was volcanic and black, a dark species

of the same genus was sure to be met with.

There are in the East small beetles of the family Buprestidae which

generally rest on the midrib of a leaf, and the naturalist often

hesitates before picking them off, so closely do they resemble pieces of

bird's dung. Kirby and Spence mention the small beetle Onthophilus

sulcatus as being like the seed of an umbelliferous plant; and another

small weevil, which is much persecuted by predatory beetles of the genus

Harpalus, is of the exact colour of loamy soil, and was found to be

particularly abundant in loam pits. Mr. Bates mentions a small beetle

(Chlamys pilula) which was undistinguishable by the eye from the dung of

caterpillars, while some of the Cassidae, from their hemispherical forms

and pearly gold colour, resemble glittering dew-drops upon the leaves.

A number of our small brown and speckled weevils at the approach of any

object roll off the leaf they are sitting on, at the same time drawing

in their legs and antennae, which fit so perfectly into cavities for

their reception that the insect becomes a mere oval brownish lump, which

it is hopeless to look for among the similarly coloured little stones

and earth pellets among which it lies motionless.

The distribution of colour in butterflies and moths respectively is very

instructive from this point of view. The former have all their brilliant

colouring on the upper surface of all four wings, while the under

surface is almost always soberly coloured, and often very dark and

obscure. The moths on the contrary have generally their chief colour on

the hind wings only, the upper wings being of dull, sombre, and often

imitative tints, and these generally conceal the hind wings when the

insects are in repose. This arrangement of the colours is therefore

eminently protective, because the butterfly always rests with his wings

raised so as to conceal the dangerous brilliancy of his upper surface.

It is probable that if we watched their habits sufficiently we should

find the under surface of the wings of butterflies very frequently

imitative and protective. Mr. T. W. Wood has pointed out that the little

orange-tip butterfly often rests in the evening on the green and white

flower heads of an umbelliferous plant, and that when observed in this

position the beautiful green and white mottling of the under surface

completely assimilates with the flower heads and renders the creature

very difficult to be seen. It is probable that the rich dark colouring

of the under side of our peacock, tortoiseshell, and red-admiral

butterflies answers a similar purpose.

Two curious South American butterflies that always settle on the trunks

of trees (Gynecia dirce and Callizona acesta) have the under surface

curiously striped and mottled, and when viewed obliquely must closely

assimilate with the appearance of the furrowed bark of many kinds of

trees. But the most wonderful and undoubted case of protective

resemblance in a butterfly which I have ever seen, is that of the common

Indian Kallima inachis, and its Malayan ally, Kallima paralekta. The

upper surface of these insects is very striking and showy, as they are

of a large size, and are adorned with a broad band of rich orange on a

deep bluish ground. The under side is very variable in colour, so that

out of fifty specimens no two can be found exactly alike, but every one

of them will be of some shade of ash or brown or ochre, such as are

found among dead, dry, or decaying leaves. The apex of the upper wings

is produced into an acute point, a very common form in the leaves of

tropical shrubs and trees, and the lower wings are also produced into a

short narrow tail. Between these two points runs a dark curved line

exactly representing the midrib of a leaf, and from this radiate on each

side a few oblique lines, which serve to indicate the lateral veins of a

leaf. These marks are more clearly seen on the outer portion of the base

of the wings, and on the inner side towards the middle and apex, and it

is very curious to observe how the usual marginal and transverse striae

of the group are here modified and strengthened so as to become adapted

for an imitation of the venation of a leaf. We come now to a still more

extraordinary part of the imitation, for we find representations of

leaves in every stage of decay, variously blotched and mildewed and

pierced with holes, and in many cases irregularly covered with powdery

black dots gathered into patches and spots, so closely resembling the

various kinds of minute fungi that grow on dead leaves that it is

impossible to avoid thinking at first sight that the butterflies

themselves have been attacked by real fungi.

But this resemblance, close as it is, would be of little use if the

habits of the insect did not accord with it. If the butterfly sat upon

leaves or upon flowers, or opened its wings so as to expose the upper

surface, or exposed and moved its head and antennae as many other

butterflies do, its disguise would be of little avail. We might be sure,

however, from the analogy of many other cases, that the habits of the

insect are such as still further to aid its deceptive garb; but we are

not obliged to make any such supposition, since I myself had the good

fortune to observe scores of Kallima paralekta, in Sumatra, and to

capture many of them, and can vouch for the accuracy of the following

details. These butterflies frequent dry forests and fly very swiftly.

They were never seen to settle on a flower or a green leaf, but were

many times lost sight of in a bush or tree of dead leaves. On such

occasions they were generally searched for in vain, for while gazing

intently at the very spot where one had disappeared, it would often

suddenly dart out, and again vanish twenty or fifty yards further on. On

one or two occasions the insect was detected reposing, and it could then

be seen how completely it assimilates itself to the surrounding leaves.

It sits on a nearly upright twig, the wings fitting closely back to

back, concealing the antennae and head, which are drawn up between their

bases. The little tails of the hind wing touch the branch, and form a

perfect stalk to the leaf, which is supported in its place by the claws

of the middle pair of feet, which are slender and inconspicuous. The

irregular outline of the wings gives exactly the perspective effect of a

shrivelled leaf. We thus have size, colour, form, markings, and habits,

all combining together to produce a disguise which may be said to be

absolutely perfect; and the protection which it affords is sufficiently

indicated by the abundance of the individuals that possess it.

The Rev. Joseph Greene has called attention to the striking harmony

between the colours of those British moths which are on the wing in

autumn and winter, and the prevailing tints of nature at those seasons.

In autumn various shades of yellow and brown prevail, and he shows that

out of fifty-two species that fly at this season, no less than forty-two

are of corresponding colours. Orgyia antiqua, O. gonostigma, the genera

Xanthia, Glaea, and Ennomos are examples. In winter, gray and silvery

tints prevail, and the genus Chematobia and several species of Hybernia

which fly during this season are of corresponding hues. No doubt if the

habits of moths in a state of nature were more closely observed, we

should find many cases of special protective resemblance. A few such

have already been noticed. Agriopis aprilina, Acronycta psi, and many

other moths which rest during the day on the north side of the trunks of

trees can with difficulty be distinguished from the grey and green

lichens that cover them. The lappet moth (Gastropacha querci) closely

resembles both in shape and colour a brown dry leaf; and the well-known

buff-tip moth, when at rest is like the broken end of a lichen-covered

branch. There are some of the small moths which exactly resemble the

dung of birds dropped on leaves, and on this point Mr. A. Sidgwick, in a

paper read before the Rugby School Natural History Society, gives the

following original observation:--"I myself have more than once mistaken

Cilix compressa, a little white and grey moth, for a piece of bird's

dung dropped upon a leaf, and _vice versa_ the dung for the moth.

Bryophila Glandifera and Perla are the very image of the mortar walls on

which they rest; and only this summer, in Switzerland, I amused myself

for some time in watching a moth, probably Larentia tripunctaria,

fluttering about quite close to me, and then alighting on a wall of the

stone of the district which it so exactly matched as to be quite

invisible a couple of yards off." There are probably hosts of these

resemblances which have not been observed, owing to the difficulty of

finding many of the species in their stations of natural repose.

Caterpillars are also similarly protected. Many exactly resemble in tint

the leaves they feed upon; others are like little brown twigs, and many

are so strangely marked or humped, that when motionless they can hardly

be taken to be living creatures at all. Mr. Andrew Murray has remarked

how closely the larva of the peacock moth (Saturnia pavonia-minor)

harmonizes in its ground colour with that of the young buds of heather

on which it feeds, and that the pink spots with which it is decorated

correspond with the flowers and flower-buds of the same plant.

The whole order of Orthoptera, grasshoppers, locusts, crickets, &c., are

protected by their colours harmonizing with that of the vegetation or

the soil on which they live, and in no other group have we such striking

examples of special resemblance. Most of the tropical Mantidae and

Locustidae are of the exact tint of the leaves on which they habitually

repose, and many of them in addition have the veinings of their wings

modified so as exactly to imitate that of a leaf. This is carried to the

furthest possible extent in the wonderful genus, Phyllium, the "walking

leaf," in which not only are the wings perfect imitations of leaves in

every detail, but the thorax and legs are flat, dilated, and leaf-like;

so that when tho living insect is resting among the foliage on which it

feeds, the closest observation is often unable to distinguish between

the animal and the vegetable.

The whole family of the Phasmidae, or spectres, to which this insect

belongs, is more or less imitative, and a great number of the species

are called "walking-stick insects," from their singular resemblance to

twigs and branches. Some of these are a foot long and as thick as one's

finger, and their whole colouring, form, rugosity, and the arrangement

of the head, legs, and antennae, are such as to render them absolutely

identical in appearance with dead sticks. They hang loosely about shrubs

in the forest, and have the extraordinary habit of stretching out their

legs unsymmetrically, so as to render the deception more complete. One

of these creatures obtained by myself in Borneo (Ceroxylus laceratus)

was covered over with foliaceous excrescences of a clear olive green

colour, so as exactly to resemble a stick grown over by a creeping moss

or jungermannia. The Dyak who brought it me assured me it was grown over

with moss although alive, and it was only after a most minute

examination that I could convince myself it was not so.

We need not adduce any more examples to show how important are the

details of form and of colouring in animals, and that their very

existence may often depend upon their being by these means concealed

from their enemies. This kind of protection is found apparently in every

class and order, for it has been noticed wherever we can obtain

sufficient knowledge of the details of an animal's life-history. It

varies in degree, from the mere absence of conspicuous colour or a

general harmony with the prevailing tints of nature, up to such a minute

and detailed resemblance to inorganic or vegetable structures as to

realize the talisman of the fairy tale, and to give its possessor the

power of rendering itself invisible.

_Theory of Protective Colouring._

We will now endeavour to show how these wonderful resemblances have most

probably been brought about. Returning to the higher animals, let us

consider the remarkable fact of the rarity of white colouring in the

mammalia or birds of the temperate or tropical zones in a state of

nature. There is not a single white land-bird or quadruped in Europe,

except the few arctic or alpine species, to which white is a protective

colour. Yet in many of these creatures there seems to be no inherent

tendency to avoid white, for directly they are domesticated white

varieties arise, and appear to thrive as well as others. We have white

mice and rats, white cats, horses, dogs, and cattle, white poultry,

pigeons, turkeys, and ducks, and white rabbits. Some of these animals

have been domesticated for a long period, others only for a few

centuries; but in almost every case in which an animal has been

thoroughly domesticated, parti-coloured and white varieties are produced

and become permanent.

It is also well known that animals in a state of nature produce white

varieties occasionally. Blackbirds, starlings, and crows are

occasionally seen white, as well as elephants, deer, tigers, hares,

moles, and many other animals; but in no case is a permanent white race

produced. Now there are no statistics to show that the normal-coloured

parents produce white offspring oftener under domestication than in a

state of nature, and we have no right to make such an assumption if the

facts can be accounted for without it. But if the colours of animals do

really, in the various instances already adduced, serve for their

concealment and preservation, then white or any other conspicuous colour

must be hurtful, and must in most cases shorten an animal's life. A

white rabbit would be more surely the prey of hawk or buzzard, and the

white mole, or field mouse, could not long escape from the vigilant owl.

So, also, any deviation from those tints best adapted to conceal a

carnivorous animal would render the pursuit of its prey much more

difficult, would place it at a disadvantage among its fellows, and in a

time of scarcity would probably cause it to starve to death. On the

other hand, if an animal spreads from a temperate into an arctic

district, the conditions are changed. During a large portion of the

year, and just when the struggle for existence is most severe, white is

the prevailing tint of nature, and dark colours will be the most

conspicuous. The white varieties will now have an advantage; they will

escape from their enemies or will secure food, while their brown

companions will be devoured or will starve; and as "like produces like"

is the established rule in nature, the white race will become

permanently established, and dark varieties, when they occasionally

appear, will soon die out from their want of adaptation to their

environment. In each case the fittest will survive, and a race will be

eventually produced adapted to the conditions in which it lives.

We have here an illustration of the simple and effectual means by which

animals are brought into harmony with the rest of nature. That slight

amount of variability in every species, which we often look upon as

something accidental or abnormal, or so insignificant as to be hardly

worthy of notice, is yet the foundation of all those wonderful and

harmonious resemblances which play such an important part in the economy

of nature. Variation is generally very small in amount, but it is all

that is required, because the change in the external conditions to which

an animal is subject is generally very slow and intermittent. When these

changes have taken place too rapidly, the result has often been the

extinction of species; but the general rule is, that climatal and

geological changes go on slowly, and the slight but continual

variations in the colour, form, and structure of all animals, has

furnished individuals adapted to these changes, and who have become the

progenitors of modified races. Rapid multiplication, incessant slight

variation, and survival of the fittest--these are the laws which ever

keep the organic world in harmony with the inorganic, and with itself.

These are the laws which we believe have produced all the cases of

protective resemblance already adduced, as well as those still more

curious examples we have yet to bring before our readers.

It must always be borne in mind that the more wonderful examples, in

which there is not only a general but a special resemblance--as in the

walking leaf, the mossy phasma, and the leaf-winged butterfly--represent

those few instances in which the process of modification has been going

on during an immense series of generations. They all occur in the

tropics, where the conditions of existence are the most favourable, and

where climatic changes have for long periods been hardly perceptible. In

most of them favourable variations both of colour, form, structure, and

instinct or habit, must have occurred to produce the perfect adaptation

we now behold. All these are known to vary, and favourable variations

when not accompanied by others that were unfavourable, would certainly

survive. At one time a little step might be made in this direction, at

another time in that--a change of conditions might sometimes render

useless that which it had taken ages to produce--great and sudden

physical modifications might often produce the extinction of a race

just as it was approaching perfection, and a hundred checks of which we

can know nothing may have retarded the progress towards perfect

adaptation; so that we can hardly wonder at there being so few cases in

which a completely successful result has been attained as shown by the

abundance and wide diffusion of the creatures so protected.

_Objection that Colour, as being dangerous, should not exist in Nature._

It is as well here to reply to an objection that will no doubt occur to

many readers--that if protection is so useful to all animals, and so

easily brought about by variation and survival of the fittest, there

ought to be no conspicuously-coloured creatures; and they will perhaps

ask how we account for the brilliant birds, and painted snakes, and

gorgeous insects, that occur abundantly all over the world. It will be

advisable to answer this question rather fully, in order that we may be

prepared to understand the phenomena of "mimicry," which it is the

special object of this paper to illustrate and explain.

Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection A Series of Essays · 第 4 / 25 段