It is generally supposed that instinct unerringly teaches birds and

insects the best way in which to build their homes or nests, and also

to provide for their offspring. The following incident, recently

under personal observation, will show that instinct is not always

infallible, says the _Scientific American_: "A friend placed three

small empty vials in an open box on a shelf, in an upright position in

close contact, and they were uncorked. A short time afterward it was a

matter of surprise to find that these had been appropriated by a female

mud wasp. She had placed a goodly number of spiders in the center

vial, doubtless intended to serve as food for her future brood, then

proceeded to deposit her eggs in those on either side. She next closed

tightly the mouths of all three receptacles with a hard lime cement.

Having finished her work, she then doubtless went on her way, satisfied

all had been done for her offspring that a thoughtful mother could do.

But just think of the sensations of those little wasps when they come

into existence, for, while starving in their sealed cages, they can

plainly see, through the impenetrable glass walls, the bountiful supply

of food which was provided for their use."

* * * * *

It has been supposed that the swallow is more rapid in its flight than

almost any winged creature, but the dragonfly easily outwings it. An

observer of insect life relates an account of a chase between a swallow

and an immense dragonfly, in which the contest lasted a long time. The

swallow evidently had hopes of catching the insect, but finally, after

a long campaign, gave it up and let the fly escape. It has been claimed

that the dragonfly was such a voracious devourer of mosquitoes that

these small pests were thrown into a panic if a dragonfly approached

them. It was declared that a fly confined in a room would speedily

clear it of mosquitoes, but repeated experiments failed to substantiate

this claim.

* * * * *

The dragonfly possesses the unique faculty among winged creatures,

birds or insects, of flying backwards and forwards and sideways without

turning its body. There are very few insects that the swallow, with

its marvelous speed and dexterity, cannot catch, but the dragonfly is

one them. The dragonfly without any apparent trouble, will keep a few

feet ahead of a swallow for half an hour at a stretch, and no matter

how swiftly the swallow flies, the dragonfly is never just there when

it makes its swoop. This is because the swallow has to turn its body,

while the dragonfly only reverses its wings.

* * * * *

The investigations of Professor Weismann have done more to solve the

problem, "How death came into the world" than those of any other living

man. It is generally assumed that death is associated with all forms

of life, but this is not really the case. The lower forms of life,

for example, may be said to have a perpetual existence, and not to be

subject to death; for in unicellular reproduction life is practically

endless. In the case of higher forms of life death is universal, and

for a very natural reason. The aim of nature is the perpetuation of

the species, not of the individual, and when creatures have, as in

the case of certain insects, reproduced themselves once for all, they

have no further need of existence. Creatures that nurse their young,

like mammals, and produce them slowly, have need of longer life, or

the species would speedily be exterminated; but there is no reason

why the individual, having performed its duty in relation to the

species, should continue to exist, since its existence then becomes

a superfluity. Between multicellular and unicellular existence there

is, therefore, the marked difference that, whereas the former dies

when it has reproduced itself and so perpetuated its species, the

latter goes on perpetually reproducing itself--one cell growing out of

another without cessation. To Weismann we owe the knowledge of how it

is that death intervenes when multicellular existence develops from

unicellular. The change is effected by the differentiation of the

individual--or somatic--and the reproductive cells. The former have

lost the power of multiplication and reproduction, and consequently

died, while the latter have preserved it.

* * * * *

The most curious of all objects in New Zealand is that which the

Maoris call "aweto." One is uncertain whether to call it an animal or a

plant. In the first stages of its existence it is simply a caterpillar

about three or four inches in length, and always found in connection

with the rata tree, a kind of flowering myrtle. It appears that when

it reaches full growth it buries itself two or three inches under

ground, where, instead of undergoing the ordinary chrysalis process,

it becomes gradually transformed into a plant, which exactly fills the

body, and shoots up at the neck to a height of eight or ten inches.

This plant resembles in appearance a diminutive bulrush; and the two,

animal and plant, are always found inseparable. One is apt to relegate

it to the domain of imagination, among dragons and mermaids; but

then its existence and nature have been accepted by the late Frank

Buckland. How it propagates its species is a mystery. One traveler,

after describing its dual nature, calmly states that it is the grub of

the night butterfly. If so, then the grub must also become a butterfly,

or what becomes of the species? One would be ready to suppose that the

grub does really so, and that some fungus finds the cast-off slough

congenial quarters for its growth. But as far as present observation

goes the grub never becomes a butterfly, but is changed in every case

into a plant.

A TAME TARANTULA.--A half-breed boy of Mexican and Indian blood

recently attracted much attention at Winslow, Ariz., by the

performances of an educated tarantula he owns. He carries the big,

formidable-looking insect in a large wooden box slung about his neck,

which, when exhibiting his pet, he places on the ground as a sort of

stage. At the command of its master the tarantula mounted a small

ladder, rung a bell and performed on a miniature trapeze. Then to the

thumping of a tambourine in the hands of the boy, it proceeded to

revolve slowly about as if waltzing, and when it had finished saluted

the crowd by lifting one leg three times.

After its performance was over, it crawled to its master's shoulder,

where it sat, occasionally running round his neck or down into his

bosom. The boy says he tamed the spider when it was young, first by

feeding it every day until it grew accustomed to him, then gradually

taught it the tricks it knows. He declares that it is much more

intelligent than any dog, and very tractable, though uncompromising in

its enmity to any one but himself. It is as large as a silver dollar

when curled up, though its legs are two or three inches long.

The body is an ugly, dull brown, covered with short, coarse, black

hair, which also covers the limbs, but is very sparse and bristly.

The eyes are small and gleam like diamond points, while the mouth is

furnished with slender, overlapping fangs. The power of spring in

these creatures is said to be something incredible, a leap of ten feet

being no tremendous exertion. The boy, who owns the only one which has

ever made friends with any other living creature, is from the Magollon

mountains.

* * * * *

A story is told by George W. Griffin, of Henderson county, of a

shepherd dog owned by him, which certainly demonstrates the superior

instinct of this little woolly creature over most species of the canine

family. "One day," said that gentleman, "I was driving along the public

highway, and the dog was following me. I stopped to talk to some

friends that I met, and while conversing with them unknowingly dropped

my watch from my vest pocket. The watch had a short piece of leather

attached to it, which answered for a fob. As soon as the chat ended

I got into my buggy, and drove on. I had driven half a mile or more,

when, to my astonishment, I noticed the dog was trotting along close

behind the vehicle with the watch hanging from his mouth by the leather

strap, which he held firmly between his teeth. Of course, I made haste

to stop, and get out of the buggy. As I did so the dog came up to me

wagging his tail, seemingly conscious and proud of what he had done.

This, though, is just one of the many intelligent acts to that little

animal's credit."--_Louisville Post._

* * * * *

When a dog barks at night in Japan the owner is arrested, and

sentenced to work for a year for the neighbors whose slumbers may have

been disturbed.

OPOSSUM.

(_Didelphys virginiana._)

SHAW.

The opossum is the only member of its order, the _Marsupialia_, which

inhabits North America, says Mr. Chas. Hallock, one of the leading

naturalists in the United States. It is confined to the southern

portion, its range not reaching much north of the Ohio River on the

west, or New Jersey on the east. It is probably never found east of the

Hudson River.

This animal is about twenty inches long to the root of the tail, which

appendage is fifteen inches in length. The color is pale grayish, the

hair being nearly white with brown tips. The tail is nearly naked, and

is prehensile; and the general aspect of the creature is rat-like.

"It is with a certain feeling of sadness that we chronicle the dying

out, one by one, of old customs and habits. Each year old usages give

place to new, and the change certainly in very many cases is not for

the better.

"The opossum can hardly be classed among the game animals of America,

yet its pursuit in the South in old plantation days used to afford the

staple amusement for the dusky toilers of the cotton states. It was the

custom in ante-bellum times, as often as the revolving year brought

round the late fall days with their ripened fruit and golden grain,

for the dark population of the plantation, occasionally accompanied by

young 'massa,' to have a grand 'possum hunt _a la mode_. This custom,

through desuetude, and change of circumstances, has been well-nigh

consigned to oblivion.

"Its food, upon which it becomes fat and toothsome to the dusky

palate, is persimmons and wild grapes, together with the various

berries and fruits that abound in the Southern states. After the first

hoar frost has whitened the hills the 'possum is most eagerly sought

for by Cæsar, Pluto and Mars. At night the darkies start forth _en

masse_, armed to the teeth with every available weapon, and accompanied

by a number of nondescript dogs, generally well trained for 'possum or

coon hunting.

"These dogs have some hound blood in their composition, and understand

the requirements of the occasion perfectly. Some ancient shade of Dis

with snowy hair is selected as leader, and he controls the dogs and

manipulates the horn. The favorite haunts of the "varmint" are familiar

to the negroes, and the "meet" is generally held on the borders of the

swamp, where persimmons abound, or, if the moon shine too brightly

for the game to venture far from cover, in the darker vales where the

luscious grapes run wild and plenty.

"The dogs range far from the party, and the moment one of them

strikes the "trail ob an ole 'possum" he gives the signal note to the

expectant party by a short yelp. This sets the sable hunters wild with

excitement; they listen for the second sound, sure to come, which will

betoken that the varmint is treed. They are not long kept in suspense,

for faint, away down in the valley, comes the joyful bay, and at the

signal the whole party stampede, spite of all 'ole uncle Cæsar's'

attempts to restrain them, and rush pellmell through bush and brake in

the direction of the sound. They arrive panting and breathless from

the wild race, in twos and threes, and are soon all assembled at the

foot of a small sapling, in the branches of which the 'possum has taken

temporary refuge from his pursuers.

"Soon a nimble young buck shins the tree, and the marsupial is shaken

off after some difficulty, for he clings with the utmost tenacity to

the limb, using the tail not the least in this battle for freedom. The

anxious dogs below await his fall, and his death is compassed in less

time than it takes to tell it. This is the only method employed in the

capture of the opossum, and this is rapidly becoming traditional."

[Illustration: OPOSSUM.

1/8 Life-size.

FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

COPYRIGHT 1900, BY

A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO.]

SOMETHING ABOUT DOGS.

Blenheim or Marlborough spaniels, which greatly resemble the latter

in form and general appearance, get their English name from Blenheim

Palace, in Oxfordshire, where the breed has been preserved since the

beginning of the eighteenth century.

Mastiff is the term applied to a very large and powerful species of the

canine family, and there is considerable conflict of opinion regarding

the origin of the word. Some claim that it is derived from the Italian

_mastino_, or the French _mastin_, both of which signify large-limbed.

This word, they say, was gradually corrupted into masty, a Lincolnshire

expression, meaning very large, muscular, or big, until it gradually

assumed its present form. Others, again, say its true origin is the old

German masten, to fatten, because the mastiff is a large dog, and seems

better fed than any other.

These animals were very highly prized by the early Romans, who matched

them to fight in the arena with wild animals. It is related that very

often two or three mastiffs defeated a lion in such combats.

Poodle is derived from the German _pudel_, a puddle or pool. This dog

was originally German, and the name was probably given it because of

being very closely allied to what is known as the water dog. They are

without doubt the most intelligent of all canines.

The shepherd dog--called collie in Scotland, from the Gaelic _cuilan_

or puppy--gains its title from the fact of its being used to watch

sheep, and protect them from marauders of every description.

As to the derivation of the word bull-dog, it is only necessary to

state that this species was exclusively used in bull-baiting, and from

that circumstance arose the name by which it is universally known.

A cross between this and the terrier is appropriately termed the

bull-terrier.

* * * * *

The Alaskan dog is almost human in intelligence. He weighs about 100

pounds. Heavily laden, he will travel sixty miles a day, says the _St.

Paul Dispatch_. With twenty dogs in a team, no two of them are in a

straight line from the driver. When unhitched for the night they pile

upon the first blanket that is thrown upon the snow, and there they

stay. When you crawl into your sleeping bag, and pull a robe over it,

the dog will get under the robe. Unless you are careful he will be

inside of the bag in the morning. The animal's endurance is phenomenal,

and they are capable of strong affection. They are great fighters.

A traveler who recently returned from Alaska says of the treatment

accorded these faithful animals: "The whip that is used on them is the

cruelest thing of its kind that is known to man. Thirty feet in length,

and two inches thick near the short handle, it has a lash ten feet long

that cuts like a knife. The Russian knout isn't to be compared to it.

When a dog is struck you hear a sharp yelp, and then your sleigh whirls

past a bit of fur or possibly a piece of bloody skin lying on the snow."

* * * * *

Recently a little girl named Lillian could not be found. It was early

in the afternoon when she was missed. There was great excitement, for

it was feared the little girl had been stolen, or fallen into the river

not far away. Searchers were sent in every direction, but there was no

trace of the little girl even when night came. Among the most earnest

searchers was Lillian's pet dog, Rover. He ran about with his nose to

the ground hunting everywhere. When night came lanterns were lighted,

and the people still looked for, and hoped they would find, Lillian.

Rover had come back to the house, and in some way he went down an

unused stairway. At its foot was a window that opened into a small

room that had not been used in a long time. Rover gave three sharp

barks, and the little girl's grandfather hurried to the part of the

house where the dog was. When Rover saw him he barked more sharply,

and sprang at the window, in front of which was a chair. The chair was

moved, and there sat the little girl, just waked up. She had gone into

this room to play house, and had fallen asleep. Rover is the hero now

in that family.

EASY LESSONS IN EVOLUTION.

With the growing popularity of South Kensington Museum the directors

and curators of its priceless collections have increased their efforts

to adapt some of the accumulated store of knowledge which those

collections represent to popular comprehension. The results of this

activity have of late become manifest, both in the great Central Hall,

and in the incomparable collection of British birds. The birds, which

have been for many years a dull assemblage of specimens, all stuffed

alike, and bearing an unnatural common resemblance to one another,

are being rearranged in cases with a proper environment of rocks and

shrub, sandhill or marsh; and with a skillful and successful attempt to

display them in their habitat as they live.

The work is not nearly complete; it will hardly be so for two years

to come; but already some of the cases, especially those of the solan

geese, the eagles, the cormorants, and the almost vanished British

bustard, are most interesting and beautiful object lessons in natural

history. A lesson of a different kind is being begun in the Central

Hall. During the period of Sir William Flower's directorship a number

of specimens of canaries, pigeons, and domestic fowl were collected,

and it was sought to show by means of these the variations which

breeding might produce on a single type. Two cases of these specimens

now stand in the Central Hall. On the top of the "pigeon exhibit" is

the common rock pigeon. Below him, tier upon tier, are ranged the

carriers, tumblers, pouters--the thirty odd breeds which fanciers have

produced from the original ancestors. Many of these specimens were

prize-winners in their day.

The same distinction appertains to the twenty or thirty varieties of

canary, which are in an adjoining case, and which are the descendants

of some ancestors whose little wings were not bright yellow at all, but

a dull brownish green. The domestic fowl in the same case are intended

to exhibit similar artificial peculiarities, though it should be noted

that the nine-feet-long tails of the Japanese bantam are not so much

the result of breeding as of eccentric cultivation, for the unfortunate

bird's feathers are carefully trained in this way throughout the whole

of an uncomfortable life. But the lesson in evolution which these cases

seek to convey is to be carried out on a much larger scale. At the

further end of the Central Hall are to be ranged a number of specimens

of dogs, cows, goats, horses, cats, every species, in fact, of which

mankind has produced definite breeds. Even fish, bees, silk-moths, and

the greatly modified native oyster will find representation here. The

nucleus of the dog collection has already been formed, and includes a

mastiff of the old English breed, heads of the Irish wolf hound, Danish

and French mastiffs, Russian and Mexican lap dogs, remarkable for their

smallness, and Fullerton, the famous coursing greyhound. Numerous

skulls, and several mummied dogs, given by Professor Flinders Petrie,

will add to the interest of this collection. The authorities hope that

persons who lose pure-bred or prize animals by death will present their

bodies to the museum in order that they may be added to this extremely

interesting display.

THE CECROPIA MOTH.

REST H. METCALF.

The cecropia, a lepidopterous insect of the family _Bombycidiæ_, is the

largest and most beautiful of our American moths. It is quite generally

distributed throughout the United States.

The large wings, measuring from five to six inches, are covered with

dusky brown scales, the borders richly variegated and beautifully

marked, the anterior ones having near the tops a dark spot resembling

an eye, and both pairs of wings having kidney-shaped red spots.

The caterpillar or larva is nearly as beautiful in color as the perfect

moth, being about three inches long, of a light green color with coral

red, yellow and blue warts with short black bristles near its head.

It feeds on the leaves of nearly every species of forest fruit and

shade trees, till late in August or September; then it descends from

the trees to seek some shrub upon which to fasten its winter home.

Occasionally they will be satisfied with a location in a tree-top, but

not often.

This home building is exceedingly interesting, and although you can

watch them only for a few hours you still linger near and imagine what

you cannot see.

When the right location is found it spins a very strong thread for

the outside, fastening it securely to a small branch, and going back

and forth with this strong silk until it assumes its proper shape

and proportion. You will find it almost impossible to tear it open

with your fingers, and only a sharp knife will enable you to see the

contents. This strong outside is necessary for protection, as the

woodpeckers are very fond of the larva and imago. After this strong

outside is completed the silk is woven very loosely between it and the

cocoon proper. This serves as a blanket for warmth, so that the baby

moth is as safe from severe winter cold and storms as a baby child in

its cradle.

The inner room of this home or the cocoon proper is made of very fine

silk, which can be readily reeled off, and we are told that it has been

carded and spun and knit into stockings that washed like linen, and

that cloth woven from this silk is much more durable than that made by

the silk worm.

But for the delicate character of the larvæ, which are very difficult

to raise, it would become an important article of commerce.

The inside of this cocoon is as smooth as satin and the larva after

changing to the proper state is glossy black, from one and a half

inches to two inches in length. As the time draws near for the great

change to the beautiful moth, the pupa grows very soft and, moistening

the smaller end of the cocoon with a secretion prepared for this use,

comes forth with damp, small wings, which as they dry out develop into

the regular size of the beautiful moth, leaving a round hole in the

cocoon where both the outer and inner cocoon were woven less closely

and strong than any other portion.

In New England the cecropia may be found in the month of June.

Often the larva uses a leaf in forming the outside, and after a leaf

dies and is blown away the impress of the veins remains, making such a

pretty cocoon. You can easily find them during the winter months, when

the trees are bare, if you keep a sharp watch for them.

THE GENISTA.

PROFESSOR WILLIAM KERR HIGLEY, Secretary of The Chicago Academy of

Sciences.

The green earth sends its incense up

From every mountain-shrine,

From every flower and dewy cup

That greeteth the sunshine.

--_Whittier._

The more one studies plant life with reference to its structure, its

mode of growth, its uses and the changes which may be wrought by man

to adapt it to the requirements of his taste, the more one finds it

impossible to repress the words--Wonderful! Beautiful! For there is no

plant so insignificant as not to have something attractive about it.

The countries adjacent to the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean

produce a profusion of forms noted alike for their beauty and economic

value.

In this region, with about forty-five sister species, is found the

plant of our illustration. Carried from its home, it is now a common

decoration of the greenhouse and private conservatory. Its sisters are

of economic value. Some are used for garden hedges, some to arrest the

ever drifting sands of the seashore, and some to furnish a tanning

principle. Cattle browse upon some species and all contain more or less

of a yellow dye called _scoparin_.

These plants belong to the pea or pulse family (_Leguminosæ_), which

also includes the clovers, the peanut, the locusts, the vetches, the

acacias, the bean, the lupine, the tamarind, logwood, and licorice.

It has been estimated that this family contains over four hundred

and sixty genera and about seven thousand species. Here are grouped

herbs, shrubs, vines, and trees, the fruit of which is a pod similar

in structure to that of the bean, and usually with irregular flowers.

In this family the beasts of the field, as well as man, find some of

their most valuable foods and nearly all of the species are without

harmful qualities. The name of the family is derived from the Latin

word _legumen_, meaning _pulse_.

Birds and All Nature, Vol. 7, No. 5, May 1900 Illustrated by Color Photography · 第 2 / 5 段