Of course every one who has had a pet squirrel has noticed what an
important thing his tail seems to be to him. When he makes his toilet
he usually ends by bringing the hairy brush around and apparently
wiping his face with it, as though it were his towel. But I suspect
that he is as much concerned, even here, about the care of his tail as
about the cleanliness of his features, for Bunny's beauty, like that of
some others, lies as much in his train as in his countenance. One use,
therefore, of the squirrel's tail is to make him look pretty. I think,
at least, no one can see him put it into such graceful curves along
with his delightful postures without feeling that he is posing for
esthetic effect.
Still, a little study of his ways may make us think that there is a
more practical purpose even in this feature of his tail's use. We had a
pet squirrel in the house recently--one of the western fox species or
variety. He had become quite tame in his cage before he was released
in my study. At intervals I had him brought in, and we usually romped
together at least once a day.
At first everything was so new and strange to him that he was very
shy and must go about investigating. I noticed that, as he approached
anything which he feared might prove dangerous, he always projected his
tail over his back far forward--sometimes feeling the object with the
extreme hairs before touching it with his nose. He annoyed me greatly
by tearing the wall paper from a certain angle. One day I threw a
pamphlet so as to strike just above his nose while at his mischief. It
frightened him badly, and he suspected that the scare had come out of
the wall. But he could not resist the fascination of this sport, and it
was interesting to watch him approach and try by all sorts of devices
of his tail to see if the enemy were within.
If he were walking past or around anything that he feared he kept his
tail stretched at full length on the side of his body that was next the
object--sometimes he held it many inches from himself. If something
moved suddenly in front of him as he ran, his tail shot over him away
ahead of his nose, as if projected there by his sudden stop. But it was
the natural instinct of thrusting his tail at anything threatening him
too suddenly for flight. Much of his play at times was a kind of mock
fright in which he seemed to imagine himself pursued by all kinds of
enemies--even myself--and the most familiar objects becoming terrible.
Then the use he made of his tail was most exaggerated, having in it
perhaps some of the elements of terrifying the enemy, as seen in the
swelled rails of cats, the bristles of hogs, dogs, etc.
One could not resist the impression that the tail was thrown out as
a shield or a screen, but this did not always seem a satisfactory
explanation, for it was certainly a very frail thing and very
conspicuous. Besides, it would seem to furnish the enemy a good handle
to catch hold of.
The theory has been advanced that this last is the very purpose of
this use of the tail; and from my study of this pet I became convinced
that he thrust out his tail when suddenly surprised in the hope that
_it_ might be taken and his body _left_. The skin on the tail of most
rodents (of which the squirrel is one) slips easily from the bone, and
leaves, to a grasping enemy, often a little bunch of "hide and hair."
So Bunny offers this--feeling that he would rather leave his tail in
jeopardy and go into life whole otherwise. The glass-snake (a lizard)
in its efforts to escape, frequently _breaks off_ a portion of its
tail, which the pursuing enemy may stop to capture while the body
wriggles into safety.
This, likewise, is doubtless one of the reasons why the squirrel
insists upon the tail's being always curled up over his back while he
is absorbed in eating. It is not always merely a beautiful pose. As he
thus sits in the trees his greatest enemies are the various large birds
of prey which may dart down on him from above. Now, this mass of tail
that is above him is apt to mislead the aim of the enemy, and, like the
pioneer's cap thrust around the tree, is intended to draw the fire into
a harmless medium.
There can be no doubt that a squirrel uses his tail to steer him in a
leap, much as the tail steers the boy's common kite. Perhaps, also,
it acts slightly as a balance, but in this respect its greatest use
must lie in its "up and down" rudder effect--or rather parachute-like
effect--as he makes those tremendous leaps from a tall treetop to the
earth.
Here it comes well into play in lessening the shock of alighting, an
emergency enabling him to escape some enemies--as a weasel or mink,
perhaps--which may chase him around in the trees.
The arrangement of the long hairs, projecting out sidewise on the
bone, is strikingly like that of the feathers on the tail of the
very earliest reptile-like birds which had long bony tails, used
doubtless as the squirrel's, since they were down-sailers rather than
up-flutterers--if I may be allowed to so compound my words and ideas.
Some other downward-leaping mammals have the hairs similarly arranged.
Another rodent, the anomalure, which flies down, as a flying-squirrel,
by thin membranes, has special horny scales on the under side of its
tail either to assist in climbing or to resist slipping down when a
tree trunk is grasped.
The squirrel's tail, therefore, is a factor of his safety, as well as a
feature of his ornamentation.
Another use which he makes of it is that when he "lies down to pleasant
dreams" it forms "the drapery of his couch"--a coverlid for his head
and body.
[Illustration: FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
NORTHERN HARE.
1/3 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899,
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]