PENGUINS AND THEIR WAYS—UNCROWNED KINGS AND EMPERORS—INNOCENT
ARMIES—SURF MISSED IN A BASIN—DARWIN AND THE PENGUIN—HARANGUING
THE PENGUINNERY.
Amongst the strangest and, as Buffon calls them, the most
unbirdlike-looking of all birds, are the penguins—an aquatic family,
numbering many species, whose headquarters are the wide waters of the
southern seas, as far as to the remotest parts that have yet been
explored. Wherever, indeed, the land that lies around the southern
pole has a coastline, it is probable that penguins lay their eggs and
rear their young; and the best hope for their continuing to do so is
that some parts of this area may be too remote, or have too rigorous
a climate to admit of its being often visited by mankind. Wherever
sailors go, these poor birds, besides being plundered of their eggs, are
destroyed in thousands, so that if every one of their breeding-haunts
were to be visited each year, they would before long become extinct. On
some islands, indeed, they are protected, but a modicum of protection
accorded to a bird is not of much avail as against a vast amount of
slaughter. Independently of what it may suffer in unequal warfare with
the greed and brutality of man, every species has to hold its own in
the general struggle for life, and when reduced to very small numbers,
it may be unable to do so. The Falkland Islands, which lie far down off
the western coast of South America, were once amongst the most popular
breeding-resorts for various species of penguins, but “now,” says
Professor Newton, “owing doubtless to the ravages of man, whose advent is
always accompanied by massacre and devastation on an enormous scale, it
does not nearly approach to what it is in other places—the habit of the
helpless birds, when breeding, to congregate by hundreds and thousands
in what are called penguin rookeries, contributing to the ease with
which their slaughter can be effected. Incapable of escape by flight,
they are yet able to make enough resistance or retaliation (for they
bite powerfully when they get the chance) to excite the wrath of their
murderers, and this only brings upon them greater destruction, so that
the interest of nearly all the numerous accounts of these rookeries is
spoilt by the disgusting details of the brutal havoc perpetrated upon
them.” It is to be hoped that the rising generation, by having stronger
views upon these things than have hitherto been held by the great
majority of people, will gradually bring them to an end. Otherwise books
like this will become more and more difficult to write—for there can
be no romance of animal life when animal life has disappeared, and the
rapidity with which it is disappearing all over the world is dreadful to
think of.
In all the penguins the wings have been converted into a pair of flippers
or paddles, incapable of flight, but with which the birds can propel
themselves with wonderful speed in the water. It is only, however, when
they dive that they use them in this way. Until then they swim with their
webbed feet alone, like a duck, but as soon as they go down the wings
are extended, and rapidly beat the water as if it were the air, whilst
the feet close together and trail behind them like a tail. These birds,
in fact, fly through the water, as others do through the air, but they
do not look like birds at all, but much more like seals; and indeed
the whole shape of a penguin is so much like that of a seal that one
might almost mistake him for one, if it were not for his long, narrow
bill. This, however, is only when he is in the water, and especially
whilst swimming under it—if ever one has the chance of seeing him do
that. When on land the bird presents a very different appearance. He
then stands bolt upright, exposing, in a front view, the whole surface
of throat, chest, and the lower ventral region. For the most part this
is of a dazzling white, but in the king and emperor penguins the white
passes upon the chest into a light but very lustrous yellow, which,
intensifying as it mounts upwards, shines, at last, like the very sun
itself. It is like a pale gold sunrise over pure white virgin snow, and
as the beams rise higher they get more golden by degrees. Above this
zone of colour the throat, as far as the bird’s forehead, is black, but
with a vivid golden band on either side, whilst the beak is of a coral
red. This distribution and contrast of colouring, with the beauty of the
hues themselves, give to such large, upright birds a very striking and
distinguished appearance, so that, though the purple robe and the diadem
be wanting, one may well think, as one looks at them, that no real king
or emperor, with these to help him, ever looked the part to greater
perfection than do these two grand penguins who respectively bear their
titles. But if one by itself looks magnificent—and to acknowledge that
it does one has only to visit the Zoological Gardens, where a specimen
is kept in a basin—how must hundreds of them look, standing side by
side in long rows, like so many regiments of soldiers? That, indeed,
is the general simile which those who have seen these penguin birds
in their antarctic dwelling-places make use of, in order to describe
their appearance to more stay-at-home people, and the resemblance is
increased by their sometimes walking one behind the other in single file,
especially when coming up from the water to take their place on the eggs.
They walk upon their toes alone, as do some of our own sea-birds—the
puffin, for instance, and often the guillemot—but when standing sink down
upon the shank—or tarsus, as it is called—that bone which corresponds
with our own ankle.
The regimental manner in which penguins, when collected in large
numbers, arrange themselves, and the soldierly appearance which they
then present, is remarked upon by Dr. Bennett in his account of their
habits, as witnessed by him on Macquarie’s Island, in the South Pacific
Ocean. “The number of penguins,” he says—he is speaking of the king
penguin—“collected together in this spot is immense, but it would be
almost impossible to guess at it with any near approach to truth, as
during the whole of the day and night thirty or forty thousand of them
are continually landing, and an equal number going to sea. They are
arranged, when on shore, in as compact a manner, and in as regular ranks,
as a regiment of soldiers, and are classed with the greatest order,
the young birds being in one situation, the moulting birds in another,
the sitting hens in a third, the clean birds in a fourth, etc., and so
strictly do birds in similar condition congregate that, should a bird
that is in moulting intrude itself amongst those which are clean, it is
immediately ejected from amongst them. The females hatch their eggs by
keeping them close between their thighs; and if approached during the
time of incubation, move away, carrying their eggs with them. At this
time the male bird goes to sea and collects food for the female, which
becomes very fat. After the young one is hatched—for these large penguins
lay but a single egg—both parents go to sea and bring back food for it:
it soon becomes so fat as scarcely to be able to walk, the old birds
getting very thin. They sit quite upright in their roosting-places, and
walk in the erect position.”
When arrived at the beach, preparatory to taking the water, they fall
forward on their breasts, and then shoot, with the greatest ease, through
the heavy surf which breaks continually on these southern, though arctic
shores. It has been supposed by members of the Zoological Society that
these birds, when in confinement, miss this tumbling surf, and that the
absence of the exhilaration which they experience in riding or plunging
through it prevents their being bright and happy. I can well believe
that they miss the surf, but as penguins at the Gardens are allowed
only a very small tank or basin, whilst some are even kept in hutches
without any at all, the probability is that they miss the wide expanse of
water they have been accustomed to live in still more. I think if they
had something a little more like the sea they could do better without
the surf, and if I had anything to do with the laws of the country I
would make it illegal to keep either penguins or any other kinds of
swimming-birds without giving them a sheet of water at least as large as
a swimming bath. Even that would be very small, but, at least, it would
be better for them than a wash-basin, which is more like what they get
now. Artificial rocks and rocky shores, and ice, whenever they could get
it, would also be very good things for penguins in captivity.
Most of the penguins, as might be supposed, considering the life on
the ocean wave which they lead, are flesh-eaters, but the king and the
emperor prefer a diet of crustacea, varied, according to the Rev. J. G.
Wood, with cuttlefish.
The skill with which the smaller kinds catch fish is quite wonderful,
but I do not know that it is more wonderful than that displayed by other
diving-birds that live in the same way. The little puffin, for instance,
that with its white breast and gaily-coloured beak and feet, may be
called the penguin of our shores, flies in regularly from the sea to
feed its young with quite a number of fish in its bill. I have counted
almost a dozen sometimes, and how it could have caught any one of them,
except the first, without letting the others go, I can hardly imagine.
I think, however, that each fish is killed as the bird catches it,
being ripped right across by the sharp, razor-like beak. But even so, it
seems wonderful that the beak can be opened whilst the bird is swimming
rapidly without the force of the water carrying the fish, either alive
or dead, out of it. I do not know if the penguin can add up fish in his
bill in this way, but I rather doubt it, because it is a long, thin bill,
more like the guillemot’s than the puffin’s, and I have not seen the
guillemot flying to feed its young with more than one fish at a time.
The razor-bill, however, whose beak, as its name suggests, is flat and
blade-like, is able to perform this feat.
The king and emperor penguins are the two giants of their race, but there
are a number of species much smaller, some of which are crested. These
latter are called “macaronis” by the sailors, perhaps because the crest
gives them a smart appearance, for “macaroni” is the Italian word for a
fine gentleman, and used to be used a good deal in England once. Others
are called rock-hoppers, because when they are in a hurry, and want to
go quickly, they hop or jump with both feet off the ground, and get, in
this way, from rock to rock. It is these smaller kinds of penguins that
come to the Falkland Islands to lay their eggs, whilst the two great
penguins breed only within the solitudes of the antarctic circle. Captain
Abbott, of the Falkland Islands Detachment, has given a short account
of the former, which contains some interesting passages. Speaking of
the rock-hopper penguins, he says: “The space occupied by some of the
breeding-places is nearly 500 yards long, by about 50 broad, and their
eggs lie so close together that it is almost impossible to walk through
without breaking some of them. I have often wondered, on disturbing these
birds, and driving them away from their eggs, how, on their return,
they could pick out their own among so many hundreds. Yet this they do,
walking back straight to their eggs and getting them between their legs
with the utmost care, fixing them in the bare space between the feathers
in the centre of the lower part of their belly and gradually lowering
themselves till their breasts touch the ground, the male bird of each
pair standing upright, alongside of the female.”
In regard to another species, called the gentoo penguin, he says:
“Some of their breeding-places are near the sea, and, generally, near
a freshwater pond; others, however, are several miles inland. Why they
should select these latter places—so far from salt water—is a mystery.
The grass from the sea to the breeding-ground is trodden down and made
into a kind of road by detachments of these birds, of from ten to twenty,
going to the sea and returning. They make no nest, but lay in a hollow in
the earth; they occupy a square piece of ground and deposit their eggs,
two in number, as close to one another as they can sit. When the young
birds are old enough they all go to sea, and only occasional stragglers
are found on the coast at any other time of the year.” Elsewhere Captain
Abbott tells us that the ground about these “rookeries” is covered with
small, round stones, which these birds eject from the bill on coming
up from the salt water, in green masses, about the size of a shilling.
It was on the Falkland Islands that Darwin, the great naturalist and
philosopher, had an experience with a penguin, of which he gives the
following interesting account: “Another day, having placed myself between
a penguin and the water, I was much amused by watching its habits. It
was a brave bird, and, till reaching the sea, it regularly fought and
drove me backwards. Nothing less than heavy blows would have stopped him;
every inch he gained he firmly kept, standing close before me, erect and
determined. When thus opposed he continually rolled his head from side to
side in a very odd manner, as if the power of distinct vision lay only in
the interior and basal part of each eye.” This bird that thus measured
its strength with the celebrated philosopher, was of a kind called the
jackass penguin, a name which it has received “from its habit, whilst on
shore, of throwing its head backwards and making a loud, strange noise,
very like the braying of an ass; but while at sea, and undisturbed, its
note is very deep and solemn, and is often heard in the night-time.”
Darwin further tells us that “in diving, its little wings are used as
fins; but on the land as front legs. When crawling, it may be said, on
four legs through the tussocks, or on the side of a grassy cliff, it
moves so very quickly that it might easily be mistaken for a quadruped.
When at sea, and fishing, it comes to the surface for the purpose of
breathing with such a spring, and dives again so instantaneously, that I
defy anyone, at first sight, to be sure that it was not a fish leaping
for sport.” These observations were made by Darwin during his famous
voyage round the world in the _Beagle_, which lasted five years, and of
which he has given us the delightful account, from which this passage
is taken. The commander of the _Beagle_ was Captain FitzRoy, who has
also told us something about the penguins. He says that, when feeding
its young, “the old bird gets on an eminence, and makes a great noise
between quacking and braying, holding its head up in the air, as if it
were haranguing the penguinnery” (a much better word, I think, than the
“penguin-rookery”), “while the young one stands close to it, but a little
lower. The old bird, having continued its chatter for about a minute,
puts its head down and opens its mouth widely, into which the young one
thrusts its head, and then appears to suck from the throat of its mother
for a minute or two, after which the chatter is again repeated, and the
young one is again fed.”