a juaurm jj^i ji i uuijju jjuj Jim W PPLETONS' HOME READING BOOKS ^ ■ vMriWM i r i ira i n i aw Bg Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924003393463 Hppletons' 1bome IReabing Boofes EDITED BY WILLIAM T. HARRIS, A.M., LL. D. UNITED STATES COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION DIVISION I Natural History The Bald Eagle APPLETONS' HOME READING BOOKS THE ANIMAL WORLD its ROMANCES and REALITIES A READING-BOOK OF ZOOLOGY COMPILED AND EDITED BY FRANK VINCENT, M. A. AUTHOR OF ACTUAL AFRICA, AROUND AND ABOUT SOUTH AMERICA, ETC. NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1898 Copyright, 1898, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. INTRODUCTION' TO THE HOME BEADING BOOK SEBIES BY THE EDITOB. The new education takes two important direc- tions — one of these is toward original observation, requiring the pupil to test and verify what is taught him at school by his own experiments. The infor- mation that he learns from books or hears from his teacher's lips must be assimilated by incorporating it with his own experience. The other direction pointed out by the new edu- cation is systematic home reading. It forms a part of school extension of all kinds. The so-called " Univer- sity Extension " that originated at Cambridge and Ox- ford has as its chief feature the aid of home reading by lectures and round-table discussions, led or conducted by experts who also lay out the course of reading. The Chautauquan movement in this country prescribes a series of excellent books and furnishes for a goodly number of its readers annual courses of lectures. The teachers' reading circles that exist in many States pre- scribe the books to be read, and publish some analysis, commentary, or catechism to aid the members. Home reading, it seems, furnishes the essential basis of this great movement to extend education vi THE ANIMAL WORLD. beyond the school and to make self -culture -a habit of life. Looking more carefully at the difference between the two directions of the new education we can see what each accomplishes. There is first an effort to train the original powers of the individual and make him self -active, quick at observation, and free in his thinking. Next, the new education endeavors, by the reading of books and the study of the wisdom of the race, to make the child or youth a participator in the results of experience of all mankind. These two movements may be made antagonistic by poor teaching. The book knowledge, containing as it does the precious lesson of human experience, may be so taught as to bring with it only dead rules of conduct, only dead scraps of information, and nd stimulant to original thinking. Its contents may be memorized without being understood. On the other hand, the self -activity of the child may be stimulated at the expense of his social well-being — his originality may be cultivated at the expense of his rationality. If he is taught persistently to have his own way, to trust only his own senses, to cling to his own opinions heedless of the experience of his fellows, he is pre- paring for an unsuccessful, misanthropic career, and is likely enough to end his life in a madhouse. It is admitted that a too exclusive study of the knowledge found in books, the knowledge which is aggregated from the experience and thought of other people, may result in loading the mind of the pupil with material which he can not use to advantage. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. Y ii Some minds are so full of lumber that there is no space left to set up a workshop. The necessity of uniting both of these directions of intellectual activity in the schools" is therefore obvious, but we must not, in this plaee, fall into the error of supposing that it is the oral instruction in school and the personal influ- ence of the teacher alone that excites the pupil to ac- tivity. Book instruction is not always dry and theo- retical. The very persons who declaim against the book, and praise in such strong terms the self -activity of the pupil and original research, are mostly persons who have received their practical impulse from read- ing the writings of educational reformers. Yery few persons have received an impulse from personal con- tact with inspiring teachers compared with the num- ber that have received an impulse from such books as Herbert Spencer's Treatise on Education, Kousseau's Emile, Pestalozzi's Leonard and Gertrude, Francis "W. Parker's Talks about Teaching, Gr. Stanley Hall's Pedagogical Seminary. Think in this connec- tion, too, of the impulse to observation in natural sci- ence produced by such books as those of Hugh Miller, Faraday, Tyndall, Huxley, Agassiz, and Darwin. The new scientific book is different from the old. The old style book of science gave dead results where the new one gives not only the results, but a minute account of the method employed in reaching those re- sults. An insight into the method employed in dis- covery trains the reader into a naturalist, an historian, a sociologist. The books of the writers above named have done more to stimulate original research on the viii THE ANIMAL WOKLD. part of their readers than all other influences com- bined. It is therefore much more a matter of importance to get the right kind of book than to get a living teacher. The book which teaches results, and at the same time gives in an intelligible manner the steps of discovery and the methods employed, is a book which will stimulate the student to repeat the ex- periments described and get beyond these into fields of original research himself. Every one remem- bers the published lectures of Faraday on chemistry, which exercised a wide influence in changing the style of books on natural science, causing them to deal with method more than results, and thus to train the reader's power of conducting original research. Robinson Crusoe for nearly two hundred years has stimulated adventure and prompted young men to resort to the border lands of civilization. A library of home reading should contain books that stimulate to self -activity and arouse the spirit of inquiry. The books should treat of methods of discovery and evo- lution. All nature is unified by the discovery of the law of evolution. Each and every being in the world is now explained by the process of development to which it belongs. Every fact now throws light on all the others by illustrating the process of growth in which each has its end and aim. The Home Reading Books are to be classed as follows : First Division. Natural history, including popular scientific treatises on plants and animals, and also de- EDITOR'S IKTRODUOTION. ix scriptions of geographical localities. The branch of study in the district school course which corresponds to this is geography. Travels and sojourns in distant lands; special writings which treat of this or that animal or plant, or family of animals or plants ; any- thing that relates to organic nature or to meteorol- ogy, or descriptive astronomy may be placed in this class. Second Division. Whatever relates to physics or natural philosophy, to the statics or dynamics of air or water or light or electricity, or to the properties of matter ; whatever relates to chemistry, either organic or inorganic! — books on these subjects belong to the class that relates to what is inorganic. Even the so- called organic chemistry relates to the analysis of organic bodies into their inorganic compounds. Third Division. History and biography and eth- nology. Books relating to the lives of individuals, and especially to the social life of the nation, and to the collisions of nations in war, as well as to the aid that one gives to another through commerce in times of peace; books on ethnology relating to the manners and customs of savage pr civilized peoples ; books on the primitive manners and customs which belong to the earliest human beings' — books on these subjects be- long to the third class, relating particularly to the hu- man will, not merely the individual will but the social will, the will of the tribe or nation ; and to this third class belong also books on ethics and morals, and on forms of government and laws, and what is included under the term civics or the duties of citizenship. X THE ANIMAL WORLD. Fowth Division. The fourth class of books in- cludes more especially literature and works that make known the beautiful in such departments as sculpture, painting, architecture and music. Literature and art show human nature in the form of f eelings, emotions, and aspirations, and they show how these feelings lead over to deeds and to clear thoughts. This de- partment of books is perhaps more important than any other in our home reading, inasmuch as it teaches a knowledge of human nature and enables us to un- derstand the motives that lead our fellow-men to action. To each book is added an analysis in order to aid the reader in separating the essential points from the unessential, and give each its proper share of atten- tion. W. T. Hakeis. Washington, D. C, November 16, 1896. PKEFACE. The warm public favor shown "The Plant World: its Romances and Eealities. A Reading-Book of Bot- any " has encouraged me to prepare a companion vol- ume in zoology. As with the former, the subject has been ap- proached from as many conspicuous and character- istic points as possible. The selections, moreover, being entertaining as well as instructive, are designed to awaken the curiosity of readers and stimulate them to independent observation and investigation. Ap- propriate extracts of verse have been introduced for variety's sake, and especial care has been taken that the illustrations shall be attractive and impressive. Each selection having been accredited to its au- thor (when known) and the work whence borrowed, no further acknowledgment is thought necessary here. F. V. New York, January, 1898. CONTENDS. PAGE To the Cuckoo Wordsworth. 1 Spiders O. Hartwig. 2 The Whale Anonymous. 10 Strange Animal Friendships .... Anonymous. 15 To the Humblebee Emerson. 23 The Amphibians Louis Figuier. 25 Humming-Birds J. 0. Wood. 35 Wasps' Nests William Smellie. 38 The English Robin Harrison Weir. 44 'Living Corals William E. Damon. 45 Characteristics of the Dog .... Edward Jesse. 53 Buffon Anonymous. 61 The Lion's Ride .... Ferdinand Freiligrath. 66 Migrations of Birds F. A. Pouchet. 69 The Sea-Anemone Anonymous. 77 Some Curious Animal Companionships . Andrew Wilson. 84 To the Skylark Shelley. 92 Collecting in Ceylon .... Ernst Saeckel. 97 The Reindeer 6. Hartwig. 106 Giants and Pygmies . . . . F. A. Pouchet. 113 The Blood Horse Bryan W. Procter. 117 Edible Insects A. S. Packard. 118 The Devil-Pish Anonymous. 125 xiii xiv THE ANIMAL WORLD. PAGE Intelligence of the Elephant . . John Selby Watson. 133 Philomela Matthew Arnold. 138 Baron Cuvier Anonymous. 139 White Elephants Frank Vincent. 146 Marvels of Insect Organization . . F. A. Pouchet. 153 The Cricket Cowper. 160 Concerning Serpents Elias Lewis. 161 The King of Birds ill j ^m ■ Jfl - t 9 HA » ■ WW wSSmm ■"■ 3.*a - il 'tfiH * : ■"■ /*► ^ -' 1 1 1 1 ' wJH 1 Hi SHnVflHHHHHW^B ' Giraffes, or C'amelopards. GIANTS AND PYGMIES. 115 perfectly acquainted with it. The ancient legends of the island tell us that at the time of its discovery it was full of birds of appalling size. There are also an- cient poems there in which the father teaches his son how to hunt the Moa, the name belonging of old to this species; in these are described the ceremonies which took place when one had been killed. They feasted on the flesh and eggs, while the feathers served to adorn the arms of the vanquishers. Some hills are yet strewn with the bones of the Dinornis, the re- mains of these great feasts of the hunters. 4. Another colossal bird, the Epiornis, which for- merly lived in Madagascar, must have been of even greater size. One of its eggs, which is now in the museum at Paris, is six times as large as that of the ostrich, and it has been calculated that to fill the cavity would require twelve thousand humming-birds' eggs. Its shell, two millimeters thick, could only be broken by a blow with a hammer. What strength, then, must the beak of the young bird have possessed to be able to make a hole in it! What differences also in strength are found in birds! 5. When fleeing before the hunter, whose Arab steed presses it closer and closer, the alarmed and -furious ostrich tears the soil of the desert, clinging to it, and leaving deep marks beneath each footstep, while it launches afar a cloud of sand and pebbles. When, on the contrary, a flock of humming-birds, at- tracted by the expanded and floating flowers of the Regia Victoria, play and gleam round them like a casket of topazes and rubies struck by the rays of the sun, neither the smooth surface of the lake nor the 116 THE ANIMAL WORLD. beautiful flowers are in the least degree disturbed. And when one of these winged diamonds perches itself upon a petal of their virgin corolla, it does not even stir it. Again, when the fragile bird takes flight, its tiny claw has not injured the velvet softness of the flower. It might have lighted upon one of the twigs of the modest sensitive plant without this taking any alarm. 6. The secretary-bird, on the contrary — a power- ful bird of prey belonging to Africa, incessantly oc- cupied in combating reptiles, with one blow of its wing stuns a tortoise or a threatening serpent. The swan, with the same arm, can break a man's leg, or, as has been sometimes seen, dash him headlong into the water. The bearded vulture (Gypaetus barbatus), some zoologists tell us, attacks the hunters unawares in the dangerous passes of the Alps, and occasionally gives them a great deal of trouble. And the eagle in its bold flight carries children through the fields of air, and crushes them in the mountain precipices. 7. If we examine the form which our winged architects give to their nuptial couches, or the ma- terials of which they build them, we see that they vary infinitely. Some birds, like the eagles and gos- hawks, which build their eyries in the midst of soli- tude and rocks, only employ in their construction rough fragments of stick heaped up in disorder; others make use of leaves and moss, which they arrange with skill. But such materials are still too coarse for the delicate bodies of the humming-birds, which pour along in swarms. They, as for example the saw- beaked humming-bird, often construct for themselves THE BLOOD HORSE. 117 a downy charming little cup of cotton, wherein to shelter their jewelry of emeralds without sullying the luster of them. Other species of the same group, which also make use of soft pillows, garnish the out- side of their nests with fragments of lichens, doubt- less to hide it better from the animals of prey that live in the midst of the foliage. This is the case with the mango humming-bird — the black-plastron humming- bird of Buffon. P. A. Pouchet, " The Universe.'' THE BLOOD HORSE. 1. Gamaeea is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble breed, Full of fire, and full of bone, With all his line of fathers known; Fine his nose, his nostrils thin, But blown abroad by the pride within! His mane is like a river flowing, And his eyes like embers glowing In the darkness of the night, And his pace as swift as light. 2. Look, — how round his straining throat Grace and shifting beauty float; Sinewy strength is in his reins, And the red blood gallops through his veins : 118 THE ANIMAL "WORLD. Kicher, redder, never ran. Through the boasting heart of man. He can trace his lineage higher Than the Bourbon dare aspire, — Douglas, Guzman, or the Guelph, Or O'Brien's blood itself! 3. He, who hath no peer, was born Here, upon a red March morn. But his famous fathers dead "Were Arabs all, and Arab-bred, And the last of that great line Trod like one of a race divine! And yet,— he was but friend to one Who fed him at the set of sun By some lone fountain fringed with green ; With him, a roving Bedouin, He lived (none else would he obey Through all the hot Arabian day), And died untamed upon the sands Where Balkh amid the desert stands. Bryan W. Procter. EDIBLE INSECTS. 1. The Crustacea afford in the northern lobster, the spiny lobster of the tropics, and numerous kinds of shrimps and crabs, many choice bits for our larder. Whether, however, any .of the insects, or their allies EDIBLE INSECTS. 119 the spiders, or even the worms, will ever afford food to civilized man is a matter of grave doubt. While the bulk of our animal food is given us by the verte- brated animals, the ox, sheep, fowl, and game being our main dependence, the mollusks afford us the deli- cious oyster which we shall never be able to give up, the less aristocratic clam, handed over to the Pilgrim Fathers by the Sagamores and their followers, the de- licious though rare scallop and the quahaug, while mussels, snails, and whelks regale our transatlantic friends. Honey is universally sought, and that is an insect product, but the flesh of insects is, upon the whole, repugnant to our feelings. This is certainly unreasonable, for multitudes of the locust or grass- hopper of the East are eaten by Arabs and the sav- ages in other parts of Africa. We look with repug- nance upon a roasted grasshopper, but an Arab is said to have expressed his abhorrence at our eating raw oysters. While in their sudden nights the grasshop- pers cover the ground and eat up every green thing, the natives adopt the sensible course of devouring them in turn. The Bushman, who is no farmer, sings: " Yea, even the wasting locust-swarm, Which mighty nations dread, To me nor terror brings nor harm ; I make of them my bread." 2. He collects them, according to Andersson, by lighting large fires directly in the path of their swarms. As the insects pass over the flames, their wings are scorched and they fall helplessly to the ground. They are also, he says, collected by cartloads when they have 120 THE ANIMAL WORLD. retired to rest. " The locusts, after being partially roasted, are eaten fresh, or they are dried in the hot ashes, and then stored away for future emergencies. The natives reduce them also to powder, or meal, hy means of two stones or a wooden mortar, which powder, when mixed with water, produces a kind of soup or stirabout. I have tasted locusts prepared in various ways, but I cannot say that I have found them very palatable. But they must contain a vast deal of nour- ishment, since the poor people thrive wonderfully on them." He also states that "the Cape Colony has been particularly subject to this dreadful scourge, which is invariably followed by famine. The inroads of the locusts are periodical; according to Pringle, about once every fifteen years. In 1808, after having laid waste a considerable portion of the country, they dis- appeared and did not return until 1824. They then remained for several years, but in 1830 took their de- parture." The locust is truly migratory, the unde- veloped partially winged young moving from one region to another. He quotes from Barrow, who says that " the larvce at the same time were emigrating to the northward. The column of these imperfect insects passed the houses of two of our party, who assured me that it continued moving forward without any interruption, except by night, for more than a month." 3. Of very similar habits is our red-legged grass- hopper (Caloptenus femur-rubrum). It appears at intervals in immense swarms. In 1871 it was very destructive to grass in northern Maine, seriously dam- aging the hay crop. It has also swarmed in Canada. EDIBLE INSECTS. 121 Dr. Harris enumerates its visitations in New England in the last century when it devoured every green thing. The habits of this species are not well known, except that it appears in midsummer in the winged state. The wingless larvae appear in June, and, as Harris recommends, hay crops should he mown early, before the insects fly in swarms. The last of summer they couple and lay their eggs in holes in the earth, where they are hatched in the spring. 4. As Harris suggests, this insect can only be kept under by concerted action on the part of farmers. " In the south of France the people make a business, at certain seasons of the year (probably in the autumn and late in the spring), of collecting locusts and their eggs, the latter being turned out of the ground in little masses, cemented and covered with a sort of gum in which they are enveloped by the insects." Various forms of drag-nets can be invented for collecting them in large numbers, and run, if necessary, through a field by horse power. The inventive genius of our farmers will easily suggest methods of gathering these insects by the bushel, when they can be thrown into hot water, and fed to swine. An entomological friend has found by his own experience that roasted grass- hoppers are excellent eating — " better than frogs." Only let some enterprising genius of the kitchen once set the example of offering to his customers roasted grasshoppers, rare-done, and fricasseed canker worms (for we have it on the word of an entomologist that caterpillars are pleasing to the palate of man), and these droves of entomological beeves will perchance supplant their vertebrate rivals at the shambles, and 122 THE ANIMAL WORLD. instead of cattle fairs, we shall have grasshopper festi- vals, and county caterpillar shows. 5. Of other insects eaten by man we may instance the humblebee, whose body is often sacrificed to the love of boys for sweets, who since Shakespeare's time have searched for the " well bestratted bee's sweet bag " ; while in Ceylon bees are eaten bodily as food. Some kinds of ants are eaten by the Indians of the Gulf coast of Mexico. Sumichrast says that " the natives eat the females after having detached the thorax " ; and Humboldt tells us that ants are eaten by the Indians of South America. Kirby speaks from his own experience: he says that "ants have no un- pleasant flavor; they are very agreeably acid, and the taste of the trunk and abdomen is different." He re- fers to the fact that " in some parts of Sweden ants are distilled along with rye to give a flavor to the inferior kinds of brandy." Certain galls are esteemed in Constantinople for their aromatic and acid taste, and Keaumur says that the galls of the ground ivy have been eaten in France, but he thinks it doubtful if they ever rank with good fruits. 6. " Among the delicacies of a Boshies-man's table," says Kirby, " Sparrman reckons those cater- pillars from which butterflies proceed. The Chinese, who waste nothing, after they have unwound the silk from the cocoons of the silkworm, send the chrys- alis to table: they also eat the larva of a hawk-moth (Sphinx), some of which tribe, Dr. Darwin tells us, are, in his opinion, very delicious; and lastly, the na- tives of New Holland eat the caterpillars of a species of moth of a singular new genus, to which my friend, EDIBLE INSECTS. 123 Alexander MacLeay, Esq., has assigned characters, and from the circumstance of its larva coming out only in the night to feed, has called it Nycterobius. A species of butterfly also (Eublcea hamata), as we learn from Mr. Bennett, congregates on the insulated granitic rocks in a particular district which he visited in the months of November, December, and January, in such countless myriads (with what object is un- known), that the native blacks, who call them Bugong, assemble from far and near to collect them, and, after removing the wings and down by stirring them on the ground previously heated by a large fire, and win- nowing them, eat the bodies, or store them up for use by pounding and smoking them. The bodies of these butterflies abound in an oil with the taste of nuts; and when first eaten produce violent vomitings, and other debilitating effects; but these go off after a few days and the natives then thrive and fatten exceedingly on this diet, for which they have to contend with a black crow, which is also attracted by the Bugongs in great numbers, and which they despatch with their clubs, and use as food." 7. The cicada or harvest fly, to which Anacreon inscribes an ode, was eaten by the Greeks. Aristotle says that the pupce are most delicious, and after they change to the winged state the males at first have the best flavor, while the females are better on account of the eggs. " Athenseus also and Aristophanes mention their being eaten; and iEIian is extremely angry with the men of his age, that an animal sacred to the muses should be strung, sold and eagerly devoured." Kirby, from whom we quote, cites Peter Collinson as saying 124 THE ANIMAL WORLD. that the winged form of the seventeen year cicada was in his time (1763) eaten by the Indians of North America. Lastly, the gravid, enormously dis- tended female of the white ant is regarded as a de- licious morsel by the Hottentots, and Smeathman " thought them delicate, nourishing, and wholesome, being sweeter than the grub of the weevil of the palms." 8. Roasted spiders are eaten by the natives of New Caledonia. Kirby says that " even individuals among the more polished natives of Europe are recorded as having a similar taste, so that if you could rise above vulgar prejudices, you would in all probability find them a most delicious morsel. If you require prece- dents, Reaumur tells us of a young lady who, when she walked in her grounds, never saw a spider that she did not take and crack upon the spot. Another female, the celebrated Anna Maria Scherman,used to eat them like nuts, which she affirmed they much resembled in taste, excusing her propensity by saying that she was born under the sign Scorpio. If you wish for the authority of the learned, Lalande, the celebrated French astronomer, was, as Latreille witnesses, equally fond of these delicacies." Even the centipedes are not neglected, as Humboldt records the fact that " he has seen the Indian children drag out of the earth centipedes eighteen inches long and more than half an inch broad, and devour them." 9. Even the eggs of certain insects are eaten. In Mexico the eggs of the Corixa, or water boatman, are often used as food, and in the same country the In- dians prepare a liquor from the Cicindela " by macer- Argonaut^ or Paper Nautilus. THE DEVIL-FISH. 125 ating it in water or spirit, which they apparently use as a stimulating beverage." A. S. Packard, " Half Hours with Insects." THE DEVIL-FISH. 1. Among the widely diversified class of marine creatures known as mollusks, there are none so interest- ing and captivating to the imagination as the cuttle- fish, squid, and other cephalopoda, as they are called in science, from two Greek words, which in their com- bination mean " feet proceeding from a head," the most common form of which in our own seas is the octopus. Victor Hugo, in his remarkable novel of " The Toilers of the Sea," gives us a picturesquely terrible narrative of a conflict of his hero with one of these grewsome monsters of the deep. That portion of it which describes the octopus, under the name of pieuvre, or the devil-fish, the title given by the fishermen of the Channel Islands to this formidable creature, is worthy of quotation in this connection, though the poetic exaggeration of the novelist, justi- fied by art purposes, can hardly be indorsed by science. 2. M. Hugo thus writes: " To believe in the ex- istence of the devil-fish, one must have seen it. Com- pared to it, the ancient hydras were insignificant. Or- pheus, Homer, Hesiod, only imagined the chimsera, Providence created the octopus. If terror was the ob- ject of its creation, it is perfection. The devil-fish 126 THE ANIMAL WORLD. has no muscular organization, no breastplate, no horn, no dart, no tail with which to hold or bruise, no cut- ting fins or wings with claws; no prickles, no sword, no electric discharge, no venom, no talons, no beak, no teeth. It has no bones, no blood, no flesh. It is soft and flabby, a skin with nothing inside of it. Its under surface is yellowish, its upper earthy. Its dusty hue can neither be imitated nor explained. It might be called a beast made of ashes which inhabits the water. Irritated, it becomes violent. It is a spider in form, a chameleon in coloration. . . . Seized by this animal, you enter into the beast, the hydra incorporates itself with the man; the man is amal- gamated with the hydra. You become one. The tiger can only devour you; the devil-fish inhales you. He draws you to him, into him; and, bound and help- less, you feel yourself slowly emptied into the fright- ful sac, which is a monster. To be eaten alive is more than terrible; but to be drunk alive is inexpressible." 3. Before the publication of Victor Hugo's de- scription, which, making allowance for certain in- accuracies and overwrought notions, is sufficiently just to convey some true idea of the octopus, the knowledge of this animal among scientific men was limited. It had been known in a vague way since the time of Aristotle, but the remarkable stories which have come down to us had been treated by modern scientific men with contempt, as being mere legends, •unworthy of credence or even of investigation. Pliny relates that an enormous cuttle-fish was taken on the coast of Spain which measured thirty feet long in its arms, and the body of which weighed seven hundred THE DEVIL-FISH. 127 pounds. Olaus Magnus and Denis de Montfort, nat- uralists during the Middle Ages, described a gigantic animal of the Northern Seas, under the name of the kraaken, which often made ships founder by its attack. Pontoppidan, Bishop of Bergen, in one of his books assures us that a whole regiment of soldiers could easily manoeuver on the back of the kraaken, which he compares to a floating island. 4. The French steam corvette Alecton was once between Teneriffe and Madeira when she fell in with a gigantic calamar or squid, not less — according to the account — than fifty feet long, without reckon- ing its eight formidable arms, covered with suckers, and about twenty feet in circumference at its largest part, the head terminating in many arms of enormous size, the other extremity in two fleshy lobes or fins of great size, the weight of the whole being estimated at four thousand pounds; the flesh was soft, gluti- nous, and of reddish-brick color. 5. The commandant, wishing in the interests of science to secure the monster, actually engaged it in battle. Numerous shots were aimed at it, but the balls traversed its flaccid and glutinous mass without causing it any vital injury. But after one of these attacks the waves were observed to be covered with foam and blood, and, singular thing, a strong odor of musk was inhaled by the spectators. This musk odor is peculiar to many of the cephalopods. 6. The musket-shots not having produced the de- sired results, harpoons were employed, but they took no hold on the soft, impalpable flesh of the marine monster. When it escaped from the harpoon, it dived 128 THE ANIMAL WORLD. under the ship, and came up again at the other side. They succeeded at last in getting the harpoon to hold, and in passing a bowling hitch round the posterior part of the animal. But when they attempted to hoist it out of the water the rope penetrated deeply into the flesh, and separated it into two parts, the head with the arms and tentacles dropping into the sea and making off, while the fins and posterior parts were brought on board. - 7. Rev. Mr. Harvey,, of Newfoundland, pub- lished an account a few years ago of the adventure of two fishermen in Conception Bay. Their boat passed near what appeared to be a floating bale of goods, which was presumed to be flotsam from some wreck. One of them struck the mass with the boathook, when it instantly opened, like a gigantic umbrella without a handle, and a huge head, with fiery, threatening eyes that protruded ominously, and a long, curved beak, raised itself from the surface. While they stood paralyzed with fear, the monster flung at them a tentacle of livid, corpse-like hue thirty feet long, which went far beyond the boat, or they would have been engulfed. One of the fishermen seized a sharp hatchet, and by a well-directed blow severed this ter- rible lasso before another one could be used, on which the savage apparition of the sea swiftly darted back- ward, and was lost to sight amid the ink-like discharge with which it blackened the waters. The tentacle was given to Mr. Harvey, and the fishermen avowed there must have been at least ten feet more of it next ,the body of their assailant. In this case, as in all the accounts of gigantic cephalopods, it is probable THE DEVIL-PISH. 129 that the creature belonged rather to the squid spe- cies, than what is properly known as the octopus. 8. The existence of these gigantic cephalopods became a matter of interest to scientific men after the publication of Victor Hugo's romance; and it has now become definitely established that the great squid is not only a verity, but one of the most formidable, in its equipment of attack and defense, produced by the immeasurable fecundity of the sea. If it existed in the same numbers as the shark, that ferocious and ravenous fish would be obliged to yield its prominence as the most dreadful denizen of the ocean waters. The octopus, and all its congeners, unlike other sea creatures, kill not merely for food, but appear to de- light in killing for its own sake. True aquatic brig- ands, they are agressive and daring to an extreme de- gree, though their favorite mode is to lie in wait for their victims. Nature, however, applies to them the law of retaliation. All the cuttle-fishes, from the smallest to the largest, are favorite food of the whale and dolphin, which attack them with impunity. Michelet says: " These lords of the ocean are so deli- cate in their taste that they eat only the heads and arms, which are tender and easy of digestion. The coast at Eoyan, for example, is covered with thou- sands of these mutilated cuttle-fish. The porpoises take most incredible bounds, at first to frighten them and afterward to run them down; in short, after their feast they give themselves up to gymnastics." 9. Some very large specimens of the octopus have been captured. Professor Spencer Baird said that the large specimen which some years ago was pre- 10 130 THE ANIMAL WORLD. served in the New York Aquarium was only an in- fant compared with the gigantic squid of the Pacific Ocean, that on which the sperm-whale is known to feed. One was cast ashore once at Newfoundland, with arms fifty feet long. Another was observed in Beaufort Harbor, in 1862, which measured thirty feet. Any one who has seen such a monstrous crea- ture can readily conceive how it seizes its prey. The arms, eight, and in other cases ten, in number, form powerful pincers at their extreme ends, and are fur- nished the whole length with two rows of perfect sucking disks, or some two thousand air-pumps. The edges are also cut into sharp, saw-like teeth, hard as steel, which bury themselves in the flesh of the vic- tim. Such a sized octopus as those described above v could throw these terrible lassos at least twenty-five feet, and draw the body of a man to the mouth, when, with its iron-like beak, it could crush the helpless form and swallow, or drink it down, .to use Victor Hugo's words. 10. The vulnerable portion of the octopus is the neck, and fishermen and others, who know their habits when attacked, always strive if possible to seize them by the throttle-valve, when they are easily killed. This is comparatively easy on land, but nearly im- possible in the water. The locomotion of the devil- fish is as easy on land as in the water. They have been known frequently to run up perpendicular cliffs, two hundred feet high, as easily as the fly runs up a wall, the machinery of attachment being very similar. They are said to move on land as fast as a man can run, and frequently pursue their prey out of the sea, THE DEVIL-FISH. 131 though on the land they are far more timid than in their marine haunts. 11. The long appendages are used both as arms and legs. All of the octopods swim freely at will, and associate in numbers, but the larger ones, as they be- come older, fly from community life and retire into the clefts and hollows of the rocks which have been worn by the waves, generally in places only a few feet below the level of low water. There, with one arm clasped close to the wall of its dwelling, the watchful savage extends the others, alert, like the boa constrictor, for the approach of prey, and no less dead- ly in the crushing force of its folds. , Its movements in seizing its victims are swift as an arrow. When the animal is swimming, its long tentacles would be in the way if extended or left pendant, so they are drawn close alongside and allowed to float behind, where they act as the tail to a kite. Motion in the water is gained by drawing in and expelling water from the locomotory tube. The octopus thus swims backward instead of forward. Its food consists of crustaceans, fishes, and other mollusks; every kind of animal, in fact, which comes within its reach. But it disdains carrion flesh, and feeds only on living vic- tims. The general life of the octopus, as of the other cuttle-fish, is about five or six years; and it lays eggs, which are large and generally found in clusters. Fishermen call them sea-grapes. 12. One singular peculiarity the cuttle-fish, in its different varieties, shares with man. It changes color with anger, passing through various tints, and only resuming the usual hue when the emotion has ceased. 132 THE ANIMAL WOKLD. Not only does the octopus change color, but covers itself with pustules and excrescences when in a rage, increasing the repulsiveness of its appearance tenfold. 13. Mr. Beale, the naturalist, describes an ad- venture with a small octopus. He had been searching for shells among the rocks on Bonin Island, and was much astonished to see at his feet a most extraor- dinary-looking animal, crawling back toward the surf which it had just left. It was creeping on its eight legs, which, from their soft and flexible nature, bent considerably under the weight of its body, so that it was just lifted by an effort above the rocks. It ap- peared much alarmed and made every attempt to escape. Mr. Beale endeavored to stop it by putting his foot on one of its tentacles, but it liberated itself several times in spite of all his efforts. He then laid hold of one of the tentacles with his hand, and held it firmly, and the limb appeared as if it would be torn asunder in the struggle. To terminate the contest, he gave it a powerful jerk; it resisted the effort suc- cessfully, but the moment after the enraged animal lifted a head with large projecting eyes, and, loosing its hold of the rocks, suddenly sprang upon Mr. Beale's arm, which had been previously bared to the shoulder, and clung to it with its suckers, while it endeavored to get the beak, which he could now see between the tentacles, in a position to bite him. Mr. Beale describes its cold, slimy grasp as extremely sickening, and he loudly called to his friends, who were also searching for shells, to come to his assistance. They hastened to the boat, and he was released by kill- ing his tormentor with a boat-knife, when the arms INTELLIGENCE OF THE ELEPHANT. 133 were disengaged bit by bit. Mr. Beale says that this cephalopod must have measured across its expanded arms about four feet, while its body was not bigger than a large hand clinched. It was the species called the rock-squid by whalers. Anonymous, " A World of Wonders." INTELLIGENCE OF THE ELEPHANT. 1. The stories told by ancient writers concerning the sagacity of the elephant are, for the most part, less satisfactorily supported by testimony than those which are related by more modern authors. But they seem to show that the intelligence of the animal was almost as well known to the people of old times as it is to ourselves. 2. Looking into Pliny, we find him saying of the elephant that it is an animal distinguished for honesty, discretion, and a sense of justice, such as are rare even in mankind, — quce etiam in homine rara, probitas, prudentia, cequitas; and that its understanding of what is communicated to it, its obedience to command, and retention of what it has learned, are marvelous. Respecting the docility of the elephants at Rome in his time, he relates that they would perform dances in concert, wield arms, and engage in gladiatorial com- bats; that they would walk on ropes, not only level, but sloping, and not only forward, but, what was more wonderful, backward; that four of them would 134 THE ANIMAL WORLD. carry a fifth on a litter, like a sick lady; and that if one of them was invited into a dining-room full of guests, he would make his way to his couch with such carefulness of step as not to incommode any one of the company. As to their dancing, he tells the well- known anecdote of one, somewhat of the duller or- der, which, having been punished with stripes for not doing his lesson well in the day, was found practising it by himself at night; a story of which the truth has been much doubted, but Pliny says certum est, — there ought to be no doubt about it. 3. The anecdote is repeated by Plutarch, who adds that the animal was seen practising by the light of the moon. It may perhaps receive some support to its credibility from an account given of a jay by Mr. Jesse. A bird of that species belonging to a Somersetshire attorney, was an admirable mimic of sounds, but if it heard any new sound, as a strange kind of whistle or the like, would not attempt to. imi- tate it while any one was within sight, but, having listened to it attentively, would try an imitation if he thought that he was not observed, and, if he succeed- ed, would display his new acquirement to the first person that passed him. 4. Pliny relates also that Mutianus, a man of emi- nence, who had been three times consul, used to say that he had seen an elephant that had learned to form Greek letters, in which he would write, Ipse ego hmc scripsi, et spolia Celtica dicavi. Mutianus was ac- customed to relate also that he had seen some ele- phants landed at Puteoli, which, being frightened at the length of the temporary bridge between the ves- INTELLIGENCE OE THE ELEPHANT. 135 sel and the shore, had sense enough to turn their tails toward it, and walk along it backward, so that they might not see the danger which they had to encounter. 5. Both iElian and Plutarch relate the story of an elephant, which was defrauded of its food' by its keeper, revenging itself on him. The man, in measuring out the animal's barley, purloined a portion of it, and then put stones at the bottom of the measure, so as to raise the corn to the brim. He thus deceived the owner of the elephant, but not the elephant itself, who, one day, as the man was boihng his meat, took up a quantity of sand in his trunk, and spirted it into the pot, inflicting on the rogue a very appropriate kind of punishment. 6. iElian adds, from a writer named Agnon, an- other story of an elephant that was cheated of its food. It was kept at a house in" Syria, and was daily de- frauded by its keeper of the half of a measure of bar- ley allotted for it by its owner. It submitted to the deprivation for some time, but one day, when the owner was present, and waiting for the animal to be fed, the keeper poured out the whole measure, when the elephant carefully separated the barley into two portions with its trunk, taking the one and leaving the other, thus making known, as clearly as was pos- sible for a dumb animal, the keeper's dishonesty. 7. A similar anecdote of the elephant appeared some short time since in the public papers, but I have had it repeated to me also by a gentleman who had received it direct from persons in India well aware of its truth. The occurrence took place in the early part of the year 1863. A large and strong elephant was 136 THE ANIMAL WORLD. sent to Nagercoil to assist in piling up timber, and the Dewan, the officer who despatched it, requested the wife of a missionary residing there to be good enough to see the animal fed with its allowance of rice, lest the keeper, who was suspected of not being over-honest, should abstract any portion of it. The animal was accordingly brought to the missionary's house for that purpose, and, for a time, all appeared to go on correctly; but at length the missionary's wife began to suspect that the quantity of rice was growing daily smaller and smaller. One day, in consequence, she intimated her mistrust to the keeper, who, with an air of the utmost sincerity, expressed his wond«r that she should think there could be any ground for such an imputation against him, concluding by say- ing in his own native phraseology, " Madam, do you think I could rob my child? " During the conversa- tion the elephant was standing by, and seemed by degrees to become perfectly aware that what was be 1 ing said related to himself and his food. The keeper had on a very bulky waistcloth, which the elephant eyed from time to time, and just as the man concluded his protestations, and the missionary's wife was hesi- tating whether she should say anything more, the animal quietly threw his trunk round the keeper, and suddenly untied the waistcloth, when a large quan- tity of rice, which the man had secreted in it, fell to the ground. Here again we see sagacity and intelli- gence almost equal to that of a human being. 8. Let us throw together here a few other old stories concerning the perspicacity of elephants: An elephant at Eome that was ill-treated by a number of INTELLIGENCE OP THE ELEPHANT. 137 boys, who pricked his trunk with, their writing-styles, seized one of them, and raised him up over his head, intending, as the others expected, to dash him on the ground, but, while they were crying out in terror, he set him quietly down again, as if he thought he had sufficiently punished a child by giving him a severe fright. 9. A man who had a wife older than himself strangled her, in order to marry a younger woman, with whom he had fallen in love. But a tame ele- phant which he kept, and which saw the man commit the murder, took the new wife to the place where the other was buried, and turned up the earth with his tusks and trunk, till the body was completely ex- posed. 10. When a number of elephants, says Plutarch, are going to cross a river, they send in the youngest and smallest one first, while the others stand on the bank and watch whether the water is too deep for him, for, if it is not, they know that they can all cross with perfect safety. The same author relates that those who catch elephants in India sometimes dig pits to entrap them, covering them over with earth and brushwood, and that, if one of a herd happens to fall into such a snare, the rest will bring wood and stones and throw them in to fill up the bottom, till the cap- tive is raised high enough to step out. John Sei,by Watson, " The Reasoning Power of Animals." 138 THE ANIMAL WORLD. PHILOMELA. 1. Haek! ah, the nightingale! The tawny-throated! Hark! from that moonlit cedar what a burst! "What triumph! hark, — what pain! O wanderer from a Grecian shore, Still, — after many years, in distant lands, — Still nourishing in thy bewildered brain That wild, unquenched, deep-sunken, Old- World pain, — Say, will it never heal? And can this fragrant lawn, With its cool trees, and night, And the sweet, tranquil Thames, And moonshine, and the dew, To thy racked heart and brain Afford no balm? 2. Dost thou to-night behold, Here, through the moonlight on this English The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild? Dost thou again peruse, With hot cheeks and seared eyes, The too clear web, and thy dumb sister's shame? Dost thou once more essay Thy flight; and feel come over thee, Poor fugitive ! the feathery change Once more; and once more make resound, BARON CUVIER. 139 With love and hate, triumph and agony, Lone Daulis, and the high Cephisian vale? Listen, Eugenia, — How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves ! Again — thou hearest! Eternal passion! Eternal pain! Matthew Arnold. bako:n" CUVIER. 1. Georges Chretien Leopold Frederic Dago- bert Cuvier, the great French naturalist, was born af-. Montbeliard, August 23, 1769, and died in Paris, May 13, 1832. The family came originally from a village in the Jura which still bears the name of Cuvier; at the time of the Reformation it settled at Montbeliard, where some of its members held offices of distinction. The grandfather of Cuvier had two sons, the younger of whom entered a Swiss regiment in the service of France; a brave man and excellent officer,, he rose to high honors, and at the age' of fifty married a lady considerably younger than himself, and had three sons; the first died in infancy, the second was the subject of the present sketch, and the third was Frederic Cuvier, also distinguished as a naturalist. As Georges had a delicate constitution, his mother watched over him with the tenderest care; she taught 140 THE ANIMAL WORLD. him to read, made him repeat to her his Latin lessons, instructed him in drawing, and developed that ardent desire for knowledge which was so remarkable in him. At the age of ten he entered the gymnasium, where he remained four years, distinguishing himself in every branch there taught. At this early period his taste for natural history was stimulated by reading a copy of Buff on which he found at the house of a relative; and his memory was so retentive that at the age of twelve he was perfectly familiar with the descriptions of birds and quadrupeds. At fourteen he formed a kind of academy from among his schoolmates, of which he was president, at whose weekly meetings the merits of some book were discussed; here his oratorical and administrative powers began to manifest them- selves. A petty trick of a malicious teacher prevented his being sent to the free school of Tubingen, where he would have prepared himself for the church; and this change in his studies he always regarded as most for- tunate. 2. Charles, Duke of Wurtemberg, took him under his special favor, and sent him to the academy of Stuttgart in March, 1784. After studying philosophy one year, he applied himself to the science of fiscal administration, because it gave him an opportunity to pursue his favorite natural history in books, in the fields, and in cabinets. One of the professors gave him a copy of the " System of Nature " by Linnaeus, which was his library on natural history for several years. "While occupied by such reading and the col- lection of specimens, he also obtained several prizes in his class studies. On leaving Stuttgart he became BARON CUVIER. 14-1 private tutor in the family of Count d'Hericy in Normandy (July, 1788), where he remained till 1794. Here he pursued natural history with great zeal, being very favorably situated for the study of both terres- trial and marine animals. Some terebratulce having been dug up in his vicinity, he conceived the idea of comparing fossils with living species. The dissection of some mollusks suggested to him the necessity of a reform in the classifications of animals; and here originated the germs of his two great works, the " Ossemens fossiles," and the " Regne animal." Through his acquaintance with M. Tessier he began a correspondence with Geoffroy St. Hilaire, Lacepede, and other Parisian savants on subjects of natural his- tory; and in the spring of 1795 he accepted their invitation to go to Paris, and was appointed professor in the central school of the Pantheon, for which he is said to have composed his "Tableau elementaire de Vhistoire naturelle des animaux," in which he first published his ideas on zoological arrangement. M. Mertrud had been appointed professor of comparative anatomy at the Jardin des Plantesj feeling himself unable from age to discharge all its duties, he called upon Cuvier to assist him, who at this time invited his brother Frederic to join him, and commenced the collection of comparative anatomy which has since be- come so famous and extensive. 3. In 1796 the National Institute was formed, and Cuvier was associated with Lacepede and Daubenton in the section of zoology, and was its third secretary. The death of Daubenton at the close of 1799 made vacant for Cuvier the chair of natural history at the 142 THE ANIMAL WOULD. College de France; and in 1802 he succeeded Mertrud as professor of comparative anatomy at the Jardin des Plantes. In 1802, appointed by Bonaparte one of the inspectors general to establish lycees or public schools, he founded those of Marseilles, Nice, and Bordeaux. He quitted this office in 1803 on being elected per- petual secretary to the class of natural sciences in the institute, a position which he held until his death; in this capacity he made in 1808 his celebrated report on the progress of the natural sciences since 1789, which appeared in 1800. In 1808 he was also made one of the councillors for life to the Imperial University, by which he was frequently brought into close communi- cation with Napoleon. In 1809-'10 he was charged with the organization of the new academies in the Italian states annexed to the empire. In 1811 he was sent on a similar mission to Holland and the Hanseatic towns, and was made chevalier of the Legion of Honor. In 1813, though a Protestant, he was sent to Borne to organize a university there, and was also appointed master of requests in the council of state. 4. In 1814 he was named councillor of state by Napoleon, which honor was continued to him by Louis XVIIL, as also that of royal commissary, which enabled him to introduce many improvements in crim- inal and civic law; and he was made chancellor to the university, which office he retained during life. In 1818 he visited England with his family, to observe its political and scientific institutions; while there he was elected a member of the French Academy. In 1819 he was made grand master of the university, and president of the comite de I'interieur, and Louis BARON CUVIER. 143 XVIII. created him baron. In 1822 he was appointed grand master of the faculties of Protestant theology, which gave him the superintendence of the religious, civil, and political rights of his creed; and in 1827 was added to this the management of the religious affairs of all the creeds in France except the Roman Catholic. In 1824 he acted as one of the presidents of the council of state at the coronation of Charles X., who in 1826 made him grand officer of the Legion of Honor. In 1830 he recommenced his lectures at the College de France on the " History and Progress of Science in all Ages," which were continued until his death; in this year he made a second visit to England, where he happened to be when the revolution occurred which placed Louis Philippe on the throne of France. He continued to enjoy all his honors and important offices under the citizen king; and in 1832 he was created peer of France, and the appointment of presi- dent to the entire council of state only wanted the king's signature when Cuvier expired. 5. On May 8, 1832, he opened his course of lec- tures at the College de France. After the first lecture he felt slight pain and numbness in the right arm, and his throat became affected; on the third day both arms were seized, and the power of swallowing was lost, all his mental faculties and the power of speech remaining unaffected; he was perfectly calm and re- signed. Four hours before he died he was carried at his own request into the cabinet where the happiest and proudest hours of his life had been spent, and where he wished to draw his last breath. Feeble in his youth, by the time he arrived in Paris his health 144 THE ANIMAL WOBLD. was seriously deranged; but the excitement of new studies, the change in his habits, and the exertion of lecturing, worked such an alteration that he enjoyed good health until his final illness. He was below the middle stature, with very fair skin and reddish hair up to the age of thirty; as his health improved, his hair became darker; at forty-five he grew stout, but was always well; at sixty he scarcely seemed more than fifty; according to Duverhoy, he never used spectacles when reading or writing. Cuvier's brain was remarkably large, weighing between fifty-nine and sixty ounces, nearly a pound more than the aver- age; the excess was caused almost entirely by the great development of the cerebral hemispheres, the seat of the intellectual faculties. 6. Besides the " Report on the Progress of the Physical Sciences," undertaken at the request of Na- poleon, Cuvier displayed the extent of his acquire- ments by his reports before the Institute on meteor- ology and natural philosophy in general, chemistry and physics, mineralogy and geology, botany, anato- my and physiology, zoology, travels connected with natural science, medicine and surgery, the veterinary art, and agriculture. He contributed many articles on natural history to the " Dictionnaire des sciences naturelles " ; prominent among these is the one on " Nature," in which he combats the metaphysical sys- tems of pantheism and the physio-philosophers, and refers everything to the wisdom and goodness of an almighty Creator. He wrote many articles for a kindred work, the "Dictionnaire des sciences medi- cates," the most important of which is that on "Anir BARON CUVIEE. 145 mal." As secretary of the Academy of Sciences it was his duty to read historical notices of deceased members at its public meetings; three volumes of these sketches have been published, containing thirty-nine articles. Besides these he delivered several discourses at fune- rals of academicians. 7. He was quite as eminent a legislator as natural- ist, though less known as such; and, as royal commis- sary, councillor of the university, member of the state council, and president of the committee of the interior, he introduced beneficial changes in the municipal and provincial laws, and in public instruction. His lan- guage, both written and spoken, was clear, forcible, precise, and animated, frequently rising to the highest eloquence. The benignity and noble expression of his countenance was remarkable. In private, he was kind, affable, and ready to communicate information. He had the greatest love for order and regularity; he rarely allowed himself to be disturbed during the hours set aside for study, but during his hours of audience he was accessible to everybody. With his other accomplishments, he was an expert draughts- man; many of his plates were drawn by himself, and he left a large collection of designs intended to illus- trate his unfinished work on comparative anatomy. The disinterestedness of Cuvier's character is shown not only by the acts of his life, but by the small for- tune he left at his death; having filled offices of the highest trust, which he might have turned to his pecuniary advantage, he left only about $20,000 and a library which cost him a similar sum; this was pur- chased by government, and given to various institu- 11 146 THE ANIMAL WORLD. tions, principally to the Jardin des Plantes. When we consider the number of offices he held, and whose duties he conscientiously performed, any one of which after his death was sufficient for a man of great talent, and some of which could not be as competently filled, we are able to form some idea of the varied acquire- ments, the unceasing industry, the wonderful memory, and the transcendent ability of Cuvier. By uni- versal consent he is regarded as one of the best of men, most brilliant of writers, soundest of thinkers, most far-sighted of philosophers, purest of statesmen, and the greatest naturalist of modern times. Anonymous, "The American Cyclopaedia." WHITE ELEPHANTS. 1. The first introduction I ever had to a white elephant was apropos of my audience with the King of Burmah, at Mandalay, his capital, during my travels through Farther India. King Mounglon, the father of the notorious Theebau, was then upon the Burmese throne. The audience chamber was arranged somewhat theatrically. A green baize curtain de- scended from ceiling to floor. A few feet above the floor this curtain presented a proscenium-like opening, *ten feet square, which brought into view a luxurious alcove. Within this alcove His Majesty was seated upon the floor, resting against a velvet cushion, with a & ^ WHITE ELEPHANTS. lit cup, a betel-box, a carafe, a golden cuspidor, and a pair of silver-mounted binoculars within reach. He was short, stout, fifty-five, and pleasant, though crafty- looking. He was dressed in a white linen jacket and a silk cloth around the hips and legs. After staring at me a shocking long while through his binoculars, he became interested to an unseemly extent in my age, my father's business, my design in traveling, and other personal matters. 2. First, he made up his mind that I was a down- right spy; then he concluded that I was a political adventurer; finally, it slowly dawned upon him that I was traveling simply for pleasure, and perhaps it was with the benevolent desire of enhancing that pleasure to the utmost that he offered me an unlimited number of wives (I did not inquire whose) on condition that I would permanently settle there. Happily the puri- tanical principles in which I had been educated en- abled me to withstand the shock. St. Anthony could not have behaved better in the circumstances than I did; and, besides, St. Anthony's temptations merely existed in the abstract, while mine were almost within grasp. Perhaps I ought to add that I did not feel like entering the King's service just at that time. While refusing all his kind offers, through an interpreter — and His Majesty offered me a palace and a title, as well as a fortune, in addition to a harem practically infinite — I succeeded in mollifying him with the present of a handsome magnif ying-glass, which I had taken with me from Calcutta for the express purpose. This glass had a bright gilt rim and an ivory handle. Though it passed into the King's hands then and there, I have 148 THE ANIMAL WORLD. ever since seen through it everything that is good in Burmah. 3. It was while the glow of this visit was fresh upon me that I descended to the royal court-yard and there found, in a sort of palace by itself, a specimen of the sacred white elephant of which the world has heard so much and seen so little. The creature was of medium size, with whitish eyes. Its forehead, trunk, and ears were spotted with white, and looked as though their natural color had been removed by a vigorous application of pumice-stone or sand-paper. The re- mainder of the body was of the ordinary dark hue, so that it was impossible for me to say that I was contem- plating a white elephant par excellence. The animal stood, I wish I could say, in milk-white majesty; but to tell the truth, its majesty was somewhat mouse- colored. It received me beneath a great embroidered canopy, a fetter on one of its forelegs being the only obvious symbol of captivity. This holy elephant had an intensely vicious look, so that I was fain to hope that behind a frowning providence it hid a smiling face. Umbrellas in gold and red occupied adjacent nooks in company with Roman-like fasces and silver- tipped spears and axes. The floor was networked with silver. Water jars and eating troughs, also of silver, were at hand to relieve its thirst and hunger. 4. Fresh-cut grass and bananas are its staple diet, though it also delights in rice, sugar-cane, cocoanuts, cakes, and candies. The water it drinks is perfumed with flowers or tinctured with palm wine. The aver- age daily food it consumes reaches the modest weight of two hundred pounds. Instead of its name, as we WHITE ELEPHANTS. 149 would place that of a valuable and favorite horse, a description of the animal, painted on a red tablet, was hung over one of the pillars of its. stall. It ran as follows: "An elephant of beautiful color; hair, nails, and eyes are white. Perfection in form, with all signs of regularity of the high family. The color of the skin is that of the lotus. A descendant of the angels of the Brahmans. Acquired as property by the power and glory of the King for his service. Is equal to the crystal of the highest value. Is of the highest family of all in existence. A source of power of attraction of rain. It is as pure as the purest crystal of the highest value in the world." 5. The constant companions of the pale probos- cidian whose acquaintance I made, and, indeed, of all that variety, are white monkeys. Both the Bur- mese and the Siamese believe that evil spirits may be thus propitiated. As it is necessary to guard the white elephant from superhuman assault and influence, sev- eral white monkeys are generally kept in its stables. These monkeys are not reverenced for themselves, but for the protection — especially protection from sick- ness — which they are supposed to give to their gigantic comrade. They are generally large, ugly, long-tailed baboons, thickly covered with fur as white as that of the whitest rabbit. As a rule, they are in perfect health and veritable demons of mischief. Captured more frequently than the white elephant, they enjoy about the same privileges as it, having households and officers of their own, but they are always obliged to yield it the precedence. There is encouragement to Darwinians in the Siamese saying that the white mon- 150 THE ANIMAL WORLD. key is a man and a brother — I might almost say a man and a Buddha. Upon that principle, civilized man, instead of being a little lower than the angels, is a little higher than the apes. 6. Is the white elephant white, or only so by a figure of speech? To this question it is impossible to answer yes or no. The Siamese never speak of a white elephant, but of a chang pouk or strange-colored elephant. The hue varies from a pale yellowish or reddish brown to a rose. Buffon gives it as ash- gray. Judging from the specimens which I have seen, both at Mandalay and Bangkok, I should say it was generally a light gray, with spots or splashes of pink. The color of the true white elephant has that delicate shade which distinguishes the nose of a white horse. It has always a tinge of pink in it — that is to say, it is flesh-colored. The face, ears, front of trunk, breast and feet, have a sort of pinkish mottled appearance, while the remainder of the body is of an ashen color. It should always be remembered that the term " white," as applied to elephants, must be received with qualification. In fact, the grains of salt must be numerous, for the white elephant is white only by contrast with those that are decidedly dark. A mulat- to, for instance, is not absolutely white, but he is white compared with a full-blooded negro. The so-called white elephant is an occasional departure from the ordinary beast. As there are human albinos, so there are elephantine albinos. And there is a general resem- blance of characteristics among all quadrupedal al- binos. 7. It is not alone the amount of pink or flesh color WHITE ELEPHANTS. 151 that constitutes a white elephant. This animal must possess certain other peculiarities. Prominent among these are the color of the eyes, the redness of the mouth, and the white or light-colored nails. In this species also the hair, which is for the most part yellow- ish, is apt to be scanter and shorter than in other ele- phants; hence the skin, with its peculiar neutrality of tint, shows more plainly. When pink patches appear, they are due to the absence of dark pigment in the epidermis — at least this is the explanation of Prof. Flower, President of the Zoological Society of Lon- don. The same theory accounts for the light-colored hair. The iris is often red, sometimes pale yellow, sometimes pure white. When the latter is the case, the eyes are white-rimmed. Sometimes, too, a pink iris is visible in an eye that is rimmed with scarlet. I have heard it said, also, that the pupil is occasionally a bright red, though I have never seen this phenome- non. By the dissection of white dogs, white owls, and white rabbits, it has been discovered that the red color of their eyes is caused by the absence of dark pigment. To put the case in technical terms, the pigmentum nigrum of the choroid coat, and also that portion of it which lies behind the iris, and is called uvea by anatomists, is wanting. 8. The peculiar fairness of the skin and hair is said by those who differ from Prof. Plower to be brought about by the absence of a membrane called rete mucosum. An albino elephant sees with diffi- culty in a strong light, but, on the other hand, sees better in the dark than black elephants do. I do not know that a scientific attempt has ever been made to 152 THE ANIMAL WORLD. formulate the freaks of Nature, so as to produce white elephants ad libitum. I am inclined to think, how- ever, that even the most intelligent Burmese or Siam- ese are not sufficiently conversant with Darwin's " Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestica- tion " to attempt much in this line. This variety of sthpiculture will probably be left to the future. 9. It is the general impression that white elephants are specifically different from others, but this is not the case. That they are distinguished from those species that have the ordinary color, by weakness of body, deficiency of instinct, or atrophy of mind, is abun- dantly refuted by facts. They are of ordinary size and shape, and specimens of both sexes are captured. When you possess an elephant whose color is that of a negro's palm, you possess a white elephant, the color not being necessarily hereditary, but caused by condi- tions so elusive that we are obliged, as a matter of con- venience, to name the result a freak of Nature. The hue is never a consequence of disease. Under identical conditions white elephants and black elephants are equally long-lived. Whatever in each species be the difference in shade, or whether the animal be found roaming in the forests of Laos or residing in royal state in the cities of Mandalay or Bangkok, I must not for- get to say that the absolutely white elephant — white as pure snow is white — is never seen. As an ideal it may be imagined as enjoying a lonely paradise in some yet undiscovered jungle. 10. In Farther India there are occasionally to be found ordinary black or dark-gray elephants which are afflicted with a skin disease termed by dermatologists MARVELS OF INSECT ORGANIZATION. 153 and zoologists leucoderma. These elephants, at a dis- tance, somewhat resemble the albinos, but a nearer inspection always shows that their eyes have neither a red, yellow, nor white iris; nor have their pinkish spots a sharp outline, but fade gradually into the sur- rounding hide. In these respects they strikingly differ from the albino variety. The greatest varia- tion, however, is noticeable in their respective valua- tions, the genuine sacred white elephant in Burmah and Siam not being purchasable from anybody, by anybody, upon any terms; whereas the skin-diseased animal may be found without very arduous search, and may be readily purchased for five hundred rupees (two hundred and fifty dollars) or less. Notwithstand- ing this superlative distinction, ingenuous showmen have been known to so confuse these two varieties of elephants as even to exhibit the latter for the former. Feank Vincent, " In and Out of Central America." MAEVELS OF INSECT OKGANIZATION. 1. The torch of anatomy has shed a flood of light upon the organization of the inferior animals, and the microscope, by allowing us to pry into the most inac- cessible nooks of it, has unfolded before our eyes a horizon as vast as it was unexpected. But it must be admitted, that if the investigation of infinitely small beings has acquired such an advanced degree 154 THE ANIMAL WORLD. of certainty, it owes it to men who have often devoted all their lives to the object. 2. An advocate of Maastricht, Lyonet, passed nearly all his life in studying a caterpillar which gnaws the wood of the willow, and produced on this insect only one of the most splendid monuments of human patience. Goedart, a Dutch painter, spent twenty of his best years in watching the metamor- phoses of insects — a most interesting spectacle for him who looks at it with the eye of religion. Hence, in the midst of our most brilliant parties (into which affliction will yet make its way despite both pomp and gold), he felt tempted to exclaim, "Ah! let me rather see a butterfly born. In his puniest creatures God reveals his power and majesty; you, in your splendid fetes, often display only your weakness and misery! " 3. Anatomically and physiologically speaking, the human mechanism is very rude and coarse, compared to the exquisite delicacy revealed in the organism of certain animals. But in us the intellect, the real scepter of the universe, predominates over the apparent imperfection of matter. Through it man alone approaches those chosen creatures who shine near the throne of the Eternal, and form a bond of union be- tween heaven and earth; if in his structure he belong to our sphere, he seems already to elevate himself toward the supreme Essence by the splendor of his genius. This is a grand and philosophic truth, which a glance at the organization of insects will instantly demonstrate. 4. In her slightest sketches Nature knows how to MARVELS OF INSECT ORGANIZATION. 155 unite power to an exquisite fineness of mechanism; the first glance at insects proves this, and thus so soon as their interesting history is displayed before us, we feel no longer tempted to treat them with the disdain that poets have shown. A simple butterfly, a single fly, humbles the pride of man, and despite of him levels his forests, devours his wops, and reduces him to despair. An insect of this kind, unknown to him who apostrophizes it with contempt, petrifies the coun- tryman with terror, while its sting is death to him! 5. Simple little, two-winged flies, gnats, and mos- quitoes, the puny look of which would never lead one to dread aggression from such a quarter, are never- theless enemies of the most inconvenient kind to our species. In some countries, where they swarm by myriads on all sides, man is subjected to their empire, and only avoids their attacks by adapting his abode and manner of living to the emergency. At the same time when the mosquitoes are most prevalent in Sene- gal, the negroes, notwithstanding the constraint of such a kind of life, remain constantly enveloped in the midst of thick smoke. For this purpose they set up regular roosts formed of branches, and suspended above masses of wood which burn perpetually beneath them. Squatted on these they receive their friends during the day, and at night, heated from below and smoked on all sides, they stretch themselves on them in order to sleep. 6. Some savage races only free themselves from the onslaughts of this accursed brood by smearing their bodies with a filthy covering of grease; and it is to protect himself against them that the miserable Lap- 156 THE ANIMAL WORLD. lander condemns himself to be smoked all day long in his dark hut. The companions of the astronomer Maupertuis were so tormented by the stings of the mosquitoes during their travels in Lapland, that to free themselves from them they had recourse to the extreme measure of covering their faces with tar. Does the reader believe that these people treated in- sects with the same disdain as the poets, who did not in any way understand them? 7. A simple fly in Africa does still more: it dis- putes the land with us foot by foot; there is a struggle between man and it as to which shall have possession. Where it lives it prevents him from carrying on agri- culture, and limits his explorations; he can only be- come master of the soil when he has exterminated it. This fly, generally called tsetse by the natives, is shaped like our common species, and seems to all appearance equally inoffensive, but its mouth secretes a venom the activity of which by far surpasses that of the most redoubtable serpents. It only requires a few of its stings to overwhelm the strongest ox; and yet if we attempted to ascertain the weight of its deadly agent by means of the most delicate balance, it is so small that we should perhaps find the calculation im- possible. 8. It is an inexplicable anomaly that this fly, which inevitably kills certain animals, does not injure others. It selects all its victims from our cattle; the goat and the ass alone defy its sting. Nor do its attacks produce any effect upon man and wild animals. But what is still more singular, this dipterous insect kills the adult animal, but sucks the blood of its off- MARVELS OP INSECT ORGANIZATION. 157 spring without doing any mischief. The tsetse quickly poisons cattle, but produces no effect upon the calf. Livingstone says that during his wanderings his followers were frequently stung by it, without ever suffering in the least degree; in fact they paid no attention to it; while the deadly fly killed forty-three oxen in spite of the- strictest watch. 9. In the domain of the infinitely little the physio- logical phenomena astonish us no less than the extreme slightness of the motive organs ! A single comparison will demonstrate this. When we communicate an ele- vating movement to our arms, and suddenly bring them back to the body, a second of time will scarcely suffice for the act; but, according to the experiments of Herschel, some insects vibrate their wings several hundred times in this short period! M. Cagniard- Latour affirms that a gnat vibrates its wings five hun- dred times in a second. Mr. Nicholson goes still further; he asserts that the vibrations of the wing of the common fly are as many as six hundred in a second, since it passes through space at the rate of six feet in this time. But this observer adds, that for rapid flight we must multiply this number by six, which means that in a second, or the time we require to exe- cute a single movement of one of our members, the fly with its wing can perform thirty-six hundred. The mind is stupefied at such calculations, and yet they are of unimpeachable accuracy ! This marvelous rapidity of movement in the wings of insects explains the as- tonishing ease with which they fly. As M. Blanchard says, " In our days the railway traveler, carried at full speed, often amuses himself by watching from the 158 THE ANIMAL WORLD. window the movements of the gnats that flit about with incomparable ease. These puny flies, notwith- standing the agitation of the air, dart backward and forward, wheel, rise, sink, and continue their gyra- tions for hours at a time, as if they were there to show us that the greatest speed we can attain is trifling compared to the power of their delicate wings." 10. After this we are no longer astonished at the activity shown by some butterflies, such as the sphinx, when they rifle the flowers of our gardens. They flit from one to the other with the speed of an arrow, and, like the humming-birds, they hang motionless before the corolla, plunging their long tongues to the bottom in order to sip the nectar, while their wings are agitated by movements which the eye cannot follow! The delicacy of the aerial oars is not less remarkable than their movements. However gently we take hold of the wing of a butterfly, our fingers never leave it without having some particles adhering, which seem only a fine dust, the source of the magnificent coloring of the insect. But when this dust is submitted to microscopic examination, the observer is surprised to see that each of these grains represents a little flat- tened plate, lengthened out and of a fine complicated structure, which reflects the most magical colors. One of its extremities is generally toothed more or less deeply, while the other displays only a little pedicle by which each imperceptible scale is attached to the transparent membrane of the wing. If a portion t>f this be now examined by the aid of a low magnifying power, it will be seen that all the scales are arranged with admirable symmetry, one above the other like the MARVELS OP INSECT ORGANIZATION. 159 tiles on a roof, and as they are of uniform shape and often of very varied colors, the surface of the wing closely resembles a mosaic of marvelous fineness, not like that of our artists, but like the result of divine art. 11. Our varied movements are executed by the aid of voluminous fleshy muscles attached to the skele- ton. In respect to these the insect possesses both a numerical and a dynamical superiority over the hu- man race. Anatomists calculate that there are only three hundred and seventy of these muscles in man, while the patient Lyonet discovered more than four thousand in a single caterpillar. 12. Insects equally surpass us in respect to strength. A man of average physical powers cannot move without difficulty a weight of forty-four pounds, placed horizontally. As he himself weighs from one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds, he only moves in so doing a mass the weight of which does not equal a third of that of his body. If we subject a mole-cricket to the same test, the results are quite ex- traordinary. This creature, which only weighs sixty- one grains and three-quarters, can with its two large hands move a weight of about three pounds five ounces, which means that it displays a strength three hundred and seventy-five times exceeding its own weight! The most superficial observation serves to show the extraordinary strength possessed by insects. Sir Walter Scott has related that a garden-snail placed under a candlestick moved it from its place by the efforts it made to regain its liberty; the same thing, as Sir "Walter says, as if a prisoner in Newgate were to shake the prison walls by his efforts to escape. 160 THE ANIMAL WORLD. 13. Notwithstanding their minuteness and the deli- cacy of their anatomy,' some other insects also exhibit a comparative strength which astonishes us. Although it is almost puerile to speak of the flea, still we may take it for an instance, as it is unfortunately known everywhere. M. de Fonvielle, in his interesting work on the " Invisible World," maintains that it can raise itself from the ground to a height equal to two hun- dred times its stature. At this rate, he says, a man would only make a joke of jumping over the towers of Notre-Dame and the heights of Montmartre; and a prison would be an impossibility unless the walls were built more than a quarter of a mile in height. F. A. Pouchet, " The Universe." THE CEICKET. 1. Little inmate, full of mirth, Chirping on my kitchen hearth, "Wheresoe'er be thine abode Always harbinger of good, Pay me for thy warm retreat With a song more soft and sweet; In return thou shalt receive Such a strain as I can give. 2. Thus thy praise shall be expressed, Inoffensive, welcome guest! While the rat is on the scout, And the mouse with curious snout, CONCERNING SERPENTS. 161 With what vermin else infest Every dish, and spoil "the best; Frisking thus before the fire, Thou hast all thy heart's desire. 3. Though in voice and shape they be Formed as if akin to thee, Thou surpassest, happier far, Happiest grasshoppers that are; Their's is but a summer's song, — Thine endures the winter long, Unimpaired and shrill and clear, Melody throughout the year. 4. Neither nig"ht nor dawn of day Puts a period to thy play: Sing then — and extend thy span Far beyond the date of man. Wretched man, whose years are spent In repining discontent, Lives not, aged though he be, Half a span, compared with thee. Cowper. CONCERNING SEKPENTS. 1. Few animals are more universally feared and detested than serpents. Their presence startles us, •however inoffensive they may be. Nor can the grace- 12 162 THE ANIMAL WORLD. fulness of their motion, or beauty of color, conquer the discontent we feel when we see them gliding in our path, or coiled and glistening in the sunshine, in which they delight. The enjoyment of many a sum- mer's ramble has been impaired from this cause, and we fear our article may be as distasteful to many per- sons as are the objects of which it treats. But we may remember that serpents, no less than more attractive creatures, are important in Nature's economies. Their structure is a marvel of mechanical adaptation, less complicated, perhaps, but as perfect in every de- tail as is that of mammals and birds, and the mechan- ism which rolls the human eye is not more complete, and scarcely more wonderful, than that which moves the fangs of a viper. Perhaps,' in the study -of Na- ture, we should estimate objects by their fitness, rather than by their attractiveness or beauty. 2. " The serpent," observes Prof. Owen, " is too commonly looked down upon as an animal degraded from a higher type. . . . But it can outclimb the monkey, outswim the fish, outleap the jerboa; it has neither hand nor talons, yet it can outwrestle the athlete, and crush the tiger in its embrace." Ser- pents, in their mode of locomotion, are creeping ani- mals, as their name implies, and constitute an order of the great class Reptiles. This term also implies creeping, but includes orders of animals which have limbs for locomotion, and do not creep. Of these, turtles, lizards, and crocodiles, are familiar instances; so that animals of several species, which run, walk or swim, are included in the same class with those which creep. All of these, however, are cold-blooded, the CONCERNING SERPENTS. 163 temperature of the body differing but few degrees from that of the surrounding air or water. Their coldness is always obvious to th* 'touch, and this is true with those found in hot as well as in temperate climates, and adds greatly to their repulsiveness. 3. Of serpents, their general form and structure are the same. Their bodies are rounded and elon- gated, and covered with a scaly skin. The vertebral column is continuous with the length of the body, and is divided into joints from two hundred to four hun- dred in number, but in the large pythons, as stated by Dr. Carpenter, four hundred and twenty-two joints have been counted. To about three hundred and sixty, or six-sevenths of these, were attached pairs of movable ribs. A rattlesnake, with one hundred and ninety-four vertebras, had one hundred and sixty-eight pairs of ribs. The vertebra? of the serpent are united by a most perfect ball-and-socket joint, and the ribs are joined to the vertebras in a similar manner. These, held and worked by complete muscular adjust- ment, give to several their wonderful flexibility, strength, and crushing power. The structure of the backbone of a serpent has direct relation to its loco- motion, for it is without limbs, and rudiments of pelvic bones are found only in the boas, pythons, and a few other species. But, where the type shades off into allied reptilian forms, the rudimental limbs are developed and prominent. 4. We read that the curse pronounced upon the serpent was, " upon thy belly thou shalt go," and the inference seems to be that, previous to that time, its mode of progression was not upon its belly. This 164 THE ANIMAL WORLD. would imply a great anatomical change in the struc- ture of the creature at the time in question, a change which, so far as we are aware, is not proved by pale- ontological research, and the expression is probably a figurative one, as observed by Dr. Buckland. Ser- pents progress by the " foldings and windings they make on the ground," and the stiff, movable scales which cross the under portion of the body; but the windings are sideways, not vertical. 5. The structure of the vertebrae is such, that up- ward and downward undulations are greatly restricted, and many illustrations, showing sharp vertical curves of the body, are exaggerations. Most persons have seen snakes glide slowly and silently, without any con* tortion. They seem to progress by some invisible power; but, if permitted to move over the bare hand, an experiment easily tried, a motion of the scales will be perceived. These are elevated and depressed, and act as levers, by which the animal is carried forward. Nor can a serpent progress with facility on the ground, without the resistance afforded by the scales. It is stated that it cannot pass over a plate of glass, or other entirely smooth surface. We saw the experiment tried, by placing a small pane of glass in a box, in which was a common black snake. He was made to pass over it repeatedly, but evidently found that he had no foothold on it; and the third time, as he approached it, elevated the fore-part of his body slightly, and brought his head down beyond the glass, and, on passing, his body seemed scarcely to touch it. This gave an opportunity to witness the wave- like movement of the scales, that is, of their elevation, CONCERNING SERPENTS. 165 which runs from the head to the tail, enabling the ani- mal to move continuously, instead of by a series of minute pushes, as would occur if all the scales be lifted and depressed at once. 6. In the moulting of the snake, which occurs yearly, and sometimes oftener, the outer covering of these creeping scales is shed; this is true also of the covering of the eyes, so that the cast epidermis repre- sents, with great distinctness, the external features of the animal. In moulting, the outer skin is broken along the back, near the head, and the animal emerges, frequently drawing with him the skin, turning it in- side out. Prof. Owen states, however, that in one instance exuviation commenced by the snake rubbing the skin loose around its jaws, working it back against the sides of its cage, when, putting its head through coils made by its own body, it pressed back the skin, turning it outward. We have observed that the black snake, on moulting, becomes more sensitive and irri- table, but shy, and inclined, for a day or so, to keep close in a corner of his cage. The scaly covering of serpents must diminish their acuteness of touch; but we have found them sensitive to exceedingly slight irritation. They are without an external ear, and the phrase " deaf as an adder " is a familiar one. Never- theless, they have organs of audition beneath the skin or protecting membrane, and we know by experiment that snakes hear and distinguish sounds, and are said in some instances to recognize the voice of their keeper. Some species, it has been observed, are influenced by music, and we quote the statement by Chateaubriand of an incident witnessed by himself. He says: " The 166 THE ANIMAL "WORLD. Canadian began to play upon his flute. The snake (a rattlesnake) drew its head backward, its eyes lost their sharpness, the vibrations of its tail relaxed, and, turn- ing its head toward the musician, remained in an atti- tude of pleased attention." 7. The snake-charmers familiar to travelers in Eastern countries, handle cobras with apparent impu- nity, cause them to advance or retreat, to coil and uncoil, to bow their heads, or bring their deadly mouths to their own by musical sounds, either vocal or instrumental. A story is related of an English gen- tleman, residing in a mountainous part of India, who was compelled to desist playing upon a flute because the music attracted serpents to his residence. The sense of taste in serpents must be very feeble, as it is quite unserviceable. They swallow their food whole, nor have they any teeth by which mastication can be accomplished. Their sense of smell is also obtuse. The organs by which this is effected are near the muz- zle, but, according to Cuvier, they are without the sinuses which exist in the heads of mammals. We have tested this sense in several species of snakes, but only pungent odors seem to specially annoy them. The tongue of the serpent is a harmless appendage, tough, horny, and double-pointed; and, like the same member in man, has a wonderful propensity to be in motion. That snakes sting with their tongues is an old but erroneous opinion. Perhaps our own species is not equally innocent in that respect. All serpents are carnivorous, and nearly all seize and swallow living food. Their teeth are bony, hard, conical in shape, and exceedingly sharp-pointed. None of the class CONCERNINa SBRPBKTS. 167 have grinding or cutting teeth. They are formed for holding their food, not to grind, crush, or cut it. Moreover, all their teeth are recurved in form and position; that is, they point in or backward, so that an object once seized can scarcely escape, and, if the jaws be fully distended, could only with great diffi- culty be ejected. Instances are given where serpents have died from their inability to swallow what they could not eject from their throats, and it is obvious that life could not continue a very long time under such circumstances, for, as Prof. Owen observes, " while swallowing, the tracheae may be so compressed that no air can pass, and their only resource is what is contained in the lungs." 8. We have observed that serpents swallow their food whole. They make a meal from a mouthful, but the mouthful is sometimes a very large one, for they will swallow animals twice or thrice their own diameter. This is permitted by the extraordinary expansibility of their body; but the enlargement of their jaws is a complicated phenomenon. In the act of swallowing, they yield at every point, sideways as well as vertically. The elastic integuments which hold the parts of their jaws in place give way, and the apparently small mouth becomes an enormous one. Digestion proceeds slowly, and, if the meal be exces- sive, as it often is, the serpent remains sluggish and comparatively helpless a long time. " They have been kept four, six, and eight months, without being fed, and with very little apparent waste of substance." Bruce reports that he kept specimens of the cerastes, or horned-snake, two years in a glass vessel without 168 THE ANIMAL WORLD. food, during which time they cast their skins as usual. 9. Hibernation is with them a period of profound torpor. In our temperate climates they gather in large numbers, in some hole, or burrow in the ground, or in clefts of rocks, for their winter sleep. We once saw twenty-six black snakes taken from one burrow beneath the roots of a partially-fallen tree, in Febru- ary. Other observers have found a much larger num- ber. We are informed that more than three hundred have been found in a single burrowing-place, and that many species, venomous and non-venomous, sometimes resort to the same rendezvous and hibernate together. In the tropics the anaconda, and perhaps other species of serpents, sometimes hibernate during the dry season of summer in the hardened mud of dried-up pools. It is by the power to hibernate that serpents survive during the winters of temperate climates, but they seem unable to withstand the extreme and long-con- tinued cold of the Arctic zone. There, serpents, and indeed reptiles of all kinds, are rare, and frequently are entirely wanting. In the Falkland Islands, Terra del Fuego, and the mountains of Southern Patagonia, no serpents have been found. The persistence of vitality in serpents is extraordinary, and continues after great mutilations. They are said to have lived several days after the removal of the head and viscera. One placed in a vacuum twenty-four hours still showed signs of sensibility; and, many hours after decapita- tion, a rattlesnake would plunge its headless trunk as in the usual act of striking. Blias Lewis, " The Popular Science Monthly." THE KING OP BIRDS. 169 THE KING OF BIEDS. 1. In the African plains and wildernesses, where the lion seeks his prey, where the pachyderms make the earth tremble under their weighty strides, where the giraffe plucks the high branches of the acacia, and the herds of the antelope bound along: there also dwells the Ostrich, the king of birds, if size alone gives right to so proud a title; for neither the condor nor the albatross can be compared in this respect to the ostrich, who raises his head seven or eight feet above the ground, and attains a weight of from two to three hundred pounds. His small and weak wings are in- capable of carrying him through the air, but their flapping materially assists the action of his legs, and serves to increase his swiftness when, flying over the plain, he " scorns the horse and its rider." His feet appear hardly to touch the ground, and the length between each stride is not infrequently from twelve to fourteen feet, so that for a time he might even out- strip a locomotive rushing along at full speed. 2. In Senegal, Adanson saw a couple of ostriches so tame that two negro boys could sit upon the largest of them. (i Scarce had he felt the weight," says the naturalist, " when he began to run with all his might, and thus they rode upon him several times around the village. I was so much amused with the sight, that I wished to see it repeated; arid in order to ascer- tain how far the strength of the birds would reach, I ordered two full-grown negroes to mount upon the 170 THE ANIMAL WOELD. smallest of them and two others upon the strongest. At first they ran in a short gallop with very small strides, but after a short time they extended their wings like sails, and scampered away with such an amazing velocity that they scarcely seemed to touch the ground. Whoever has seen a partridge run knows that no man is able to keep up with him, and were he able to make greater strides his rapidity would un- doubtedly be still greater. The ostrich, who runs like a partridge, possesses this advantage, and I am con- vinced that these two birds would have distanced the best English horses. To be sure they would not have been able to run for so long a time, but in running a race to a moderate distance they would certainly have gained the prize." 3. Not only by his speed is the ostrich able to baffle many an enemy, but the strength of his legs also serves him as an excellent means of defense; and many a panther or wild dog coming within reach of his foot has had reason to repent of its temerity. But in spite of the rapidity of his flight, during which he frequently flings large stones backward with his foot, and in spite of his strength, he is frequently obliged to succumb to man, who knows how to hunt him in various ways. 4. Unsuspicious of evil, a troop of ostriches wan- ders through the plain, the monotony of which is only relieved here and there by a clump of palms, a patch of candelabra-shaped tree-euphorbias, or a vast and solitary baobab. Some leisurely feed on the sprouts of the acacias, or the hard leaves of the mimosas, others agitate their wings and ventilate the delicate THE KING OP BIRDS. 171 plumage, the possession of which is soon to prove so fatal to them. ~No other bird is seen in their company — for no other bird leads a life like theirs; but the zebra and the antelope are fond of associating with the ostrich, desirous perhaps of benefiting by the sharpness of his eye, which is capable of discerning danger at the utmost verge of the horizon. But in spite of its vigi- lance, misfortunes are already gathering round the troop, for the Bedouin has spied them out, and encir- cles them with a ring of his fleetest coursers. In vain the ostrich seeks to escape. One rider drives him along to the next, the circle gradually grows narrower and narrower, and, finally, the exhausted bird sinks upon the ground, and receives the death-blow with stoical resignation. 5. To surprise the cautious seal the northern Eski- mo puts on a skin of the animal, and imitating its motions mixes among the unsuspicious herd; and, in South Africa, we find the Bushman resorts to a similar stratagem to outwit the ostrich. He forms a kind of saddle-shaped cushion, and covers it over with feathers, so as to resemble the bird. The head and neck of an ostrich are stuffed, and a small rod introduced. Pre- paring for the chase, he whitens his black legs with any substance he can procure, places the saddle on his shoulders, takes the bottom part of the neck in his right hand, and his bow and poisoned arrows in his left. Under this mask he mimics the ostrich to per- fection, picks away at the verdure, turns his head as if keeping a sharp lookout, shakes his feathers, now walks, and then trots, till he gets within bow-shot, and when the flock runs, from one receiving an arrow, he 172 THE ANIMAL WORLD. runs too. Sometimes, however, it happens that some wary old bird suspects the cheat, and endeavors to get near the intruder, who then tries to get out of the way, and to prevent the bird from catching his scent, which would at once break the spell. 6. The ostrich generally passes for a very stupid animal, yet to protect its young it has recourse to the same stratagems which we admire in the plover, the oyster-catcher, and several other strand-birds. Thus Professor Thunberg relates that riding past a place where a hen-ostrich sat on her nest, the bird sprang up and pursued him, in order to draw off his attention from her young ones or her eggs. Every time the traveler turned his horse toward her, she retreated ten or twelve paces, but as soon as he rode on, pursued him again. 7. The instinct of the ostrich in providing food for its young is no less remarkable, for it is now proved that this bird, far from leaving its eggs, like a cold- blooded reptile, to be vivified by the sun, as was for- merly supposed, not only hatches them with the great- est care, but even reserves a certain portion of eggs to provide the young with nourishment when they first burst into life: a wonderful provision, when we con- sider how difficult it would be for the brood to find any other adequate food in its sterile haunts. In Senegal, where the heat is extreme, the ostrich, it is said, sits at night only upon those eggs which are to be rendered fertile, but in extratropical Africa, where the sun has less power, the mother remains constant in her attentions to the eggs both day and night. The number of eggs which the ostrich usually sits upon is THE KING OF BIRDS. 173 ten; but the Hottentots, who are very fond of them, upon discovering a nest, seize fitting opportunities to remove one or two at a time; this induces the bird to deposit more, and in this manner she has been known, like the domestic hen, to lay between forty and fifty in a season. 8. Almost as soon as the chicks of the ostrich (which are about the size of pullets) have escaped from the shell, they are able to walk about and to follow the mother, on whom they are dependant for a long time. And here again we find a wonderful provision of nature in providing the young of the ostrich with a color and a covering admirably suited to the localities they frequent. The color is a kind of pepper and salt, agreeing well with the sand and gravel of the plains, which they are in the habit of traversing, so that you have the greatest difficulty in discerning the chicks even when crouching under your very eyes. The covering is neither down nor feathers, but a kind of prickly stubble, which no doubt is an excellent protection against injury from the gravel and the stunted vegetation among which they dwell. 9. The ostrich resembles in many respects the quadrupeds, and particularly the camel, so that it may almost be said to fill up the chasm which separates the mammalia from the birds, and to form a connect- ing link between them. Both the ostrich and the dromedary have warty excrescences on the breast upon which they lean while reposing, an almost similarly formed foot, the same muscular neck; and when we consider that they both feed upon the most stunted herbage, and are capable of supporting thirst for an 174 THE ANIMAL WORLD, incredibly long time, being, in fact, both, equally well formed for living on the arid plains, it is certainly not to be wondered at that the ancients gave the ostrich a name betokening this similitude (Struthio camelus), and that the fancy of the Arabs ascribes its original parentage to a bird and to a dromedary. 10. It is difficult to ascertain what the tastes of the ostrich may be while roaming the desert, but when in captivity no other bird or animal shows less nicety in the choice of its food, as it swallows with avidity stones, pieces of wood and iron, spoons, knives, and other articles of equally light digestion that may be presented to it. " Nothing," says Methuen, speak-, ing of a domesticated ostrich, " disturbed its diges- tion — dyspepsia (happy thing) was undreamt of in its philosophy. One day a Muscovy-duck brought a promising race of ducklings into the world, and with maternal pride conducted them forth into the yard. Up with solemn and measured stride walked the os- trich, and, wearing the most mild and benignant cast of face, swallowed them all, one after the other, like so many oysters, regarding the indignant hissings and bristling plumage of the hapless mother with stoical indifference." 11. The costly white plumes of the ostrich, which are chiefly obtained from the wings, have been prized in all ages for the elegance of their long, waving, loose, and flexible barbs. From seventy to ninety feathers go to the pound; but a single bird seldom furnishes more than a dozen, as many of them are spoilt by trail- ing or some other accident. The vagrant tribes of the Sahara sell their ostrich plumes to the caravans THE KING OF BIRDS. 175 which annually cross the desert, and convey them to the ports of the Mediterranean. Here they were purchased as far back as the twelfth or thirteenth cen- tury, by the Pisanese or Genoese merchants, through whose agency they ultimately crossed the Alps to dec- orate the stately Burggrafinnen of the Rhine, or the wives of the opulent traders of Augsburg or Nurem- burg. At a still more remote period the Phoenicians brought ostrich-feathers from Ophir to Tyre, whence they were distributed among the princes of the Eastern world. 12. In Algeria, the ostrich is often domesticated, particularly on account of its eggs, which weigh three pounds, and are equivalent to twenty-four of the com- mon fowl's eggs. According to Andersson they afford an excellent repast; while Dr. Livingstone tells us they have a strong disagreeable flavor, which only the keen appetite of the desert can reconcile one to. The flesh of the ostrich is decidedly coarse, but as there is no accounting for tastes, the Romans seem to have prized it; and Firmus, one of their pseudo-emperors, most likely desirous of emulating the gormandizing powers of the bird on which he fed, is said to have de- voured a whole ostrich at one meal. 13. A legend of the Arabs gives the following poetical account of the origin of the crippled wings and ruffled coat of the ostrich. " About a thousand years ago," say the wandering tribes of Kordofan, " the ostrich still resembled the Hubahra or Arabian bustard, and both together inhabited the grassy plains. Then also he flew remarkably well, nor was he so shy as at present, when he avoids the approach of man 176 THE ANIMAL WOKLD. with gigantic strides, but lived in friendship and con- fidence both with him and the other animals of the desert. One day the Hubahra thus addressed him: ' Dear brother! if thou art inclined we will, inschalla! (with God's permission) fly to-morrow to the river, bathe, drink, and then return to our young! ' ' Well,' replied the ostrich; ' we will do so: ' but he did not , add — 'inschalla! ' for he was arrogant, and did not bow before the might of the all-merciful and eternal God, ' whose praise the angels in heaven proclaim, and whose glory the thunder in the clouds celebrates,' as hitherto he had only known His inexhaustible good- ness, and prided himself upon his own strength and his strong wings. - 14. " On the following morning they prepared for their journey, but the Hubahra before starting said, ' Be issm lillahi! ' (in the name of Allah) while the ostrich remained mute, and then they both flew toward the eye of God (the sun). And the ostrich rose higher and higher, and striking the air with his mighty wings left the Hubahra far behind. His heart was full of arrogance; he forgot the blessing of Him who is the fountain of all blessings, and relied only upon himself. But the measure of God's mercy was filled to overflowing, and the anger of Allah was roused against the offender. Higher and higher he rose, as if he wanted to reach the sun. But now the avenging angel of the Lord approached, and withdrew the veil which separated him from the flaming orb. In an instant his wings were burnt, and he fell miser- ably down upon the earth. Even now he cannot fly; even now thou seest his singed feathers; even now he THE CHAMELEON. 177 fears God's vengeance, and endeavors to escape it with gigantic strides. Therefore, O man! let the bird of the desert serve thee as a warning example: hum- ble thyself before the power of the Almighty, and never undertake anything without saying beforehand ' inschalla! ' that the blessing of God may attend thy work." There is evidently a great resemblance be- tween this legend and the story of Icarus, but the Arab tale gives an excellent moral lesson, and is im- bued with a deep religious feeling, of which we find no traces in the Greek. G. Haetwig, " The Tropical World." THE CHAMELEON. 1. Among the tree lizards, or those which rarely crawl on the ground and never enter the water, the chameleon is the most noticeable. This singular rep- tile has long been famous for its power of changing its color, a property, however, which has been greatly exaggerated. Although all lizards are torpid, some of them are quite capable of great activity at certain seasons, but the chameleon is sluggish in the extreme, being the very sloth among reptiles. When it moves along the branch on which it is clinging the reptile first raises one foot very slowly indeed, and will some- times remain with its foot in air for a considerable time, as if it had gone to sleep in the interim. It then puts the foot slowly forward, and takes a good grasp 13 178 THE ANIMAL WOELD. of the branch. Having satisfied itself that it is firmly secured, it leisurely unwinds its tail, which has been tightly twisted around the branch, shifts it a little forward, coils it around again, and then rests for a while. With the same slow precaution each foot is lifted forward and advanced, the movement being only a little faster than the hour hand of a watch. 2. The chameleon's food consists of insects, mostly of flies, and, like many other reptiles, it is able to go for months without food, a fact which gave rise to the belief that the chameleon lived on the air. To judge by externals, there never was an animal less fitted than the -chameleon for capturing anything as active as a fly, and yet we shall see that the lizard is well equipped for this purpose. The tongue is the instrument by which the fly is captured, being first deliberately aimed like a billiard-player directing a stroke of his cue, and then darted out with singular velocity. This member is very muscular, and is furnished at the tip with a kind of viscid secretion which causes the fly to adhere to it. Its mouth is well furnished with teeth, which are set firmly into its jaw, and enable it to bruise the insects after getting them into its mouth by means of the tongue. 3. The eyes have a most singular appearance, and are worked quite independently of each other, one rolling backward, while the other is directed forward or upward. There is not the least spark of expression in the eye of the chameleon, which looks about as intellectual as a green pea with a dot of ink upon it. 4. In speaking of the changes of color in the chameleon, Mr. Wood, the writer on natural history, THE CHAMELEOH. 179 says: " I kept a chameleon for a long time, and care- fully watched its changes of color. Its primary hue was gray-black, but other colors were constantly pass* ing over its body. Sometimes it would be striped like a zebra with light yellow, or covered with circular yellow spots. Sometimes it was all chestnut and black like a leopard, and sometimes it was brilliant green. Sometimes it would be gray, covered with black spots; and once, when it was sitting on a branch, it took the hue of the autumnal leaves so exactly that it could scarcely be distinguished from them." 5. Let us now watch a chameleon on the outlook for food. Clinging securely to one or more twigs by means of its claw-like feet and prehensile tail, it awaits its prey with a patience and perseverence as well as a mute immobility that might well be imitated by holi- day sportsmen and fishing amateurs. It remains pet- rified in the same spot for hours, as if it were of cast iron in a mold. But its large eyes, which are covered over to the dimensions of a very small shining speck with hard lids, are incessantly turning in every direc- tion to catch a glimpse of passing prey. One of these eyes looks forward and downward, the other upward and backward, turning incessantly about. At last a grasshopper or a fly settles near by. One of the roll- ing eyes instantly notes the fact, and now the chame- leon opens his mouth just enough to let the tip of his thick, cylindrical tongue be seen. In another moment out leaps the wonderful tongue missile with unerring certainty, and swift as an arrow, and the captured booty is in the lizard's mouth. If the post chosen is fruitful in game, the chameleon will not stir for 180 THE ANIMAL WORLD. hours. But if it yields only little the creature over- comes its laziness and starts out a-hunting. Our pred- atory marksman will now display, perhaps, the most surprising agility and suppleness. Not only does it use the clawed feet but the flexible tail, and the mon • key itself could not be more lithe and active in its motions. Anonymous, " A World of Wonders." TO AN INSECT. 1. I love to hear thine earnest voice, Wherever thou art hid, Thou testy little dogmatist, Thou pretty Katydid! Thou mindest me of gentlefolks, — Old gentlefolks are they, — Thou say'st an undisputed thing In such a solemn way. 2. Thou art a female, Katydid! I know it by the trill That quivers through thy piercing notes, So petulant and shrill. I think there is a knot of you Beneath the hollow tree, — A knot of spinster Katydids, — Do Katydids drink tea? THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 181 O, tell me where did Katy live, And what did Katy do? And was she very fair and young, And yet so wicked too? Did Katy love a naughty man, Or kiss more cheeks than one? I warrant Katy did no more Than many a Kate has done. Oliver Wendell Holmes. THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 1. " Behold now Behemoth, which I made with thee; he eateth grass as an ox; his bones are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are like bars of iron; he lieth under the shady trees, in the covert of the reeds and fens. The shady trees cover him with their shadow; the willows of the brook compass him about. Behold he drinketh up a river: he trusteth that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth." Thus, in the book of Job, we find the Hippopotamus portrayed with few words but incomparable power. 2. According to the inspired poet, this huge ani- mal seems anciently to have inhabited the waters of Palestine, but now it is nowhere to be found in Asia; and even in Africa the limits of its domain are per- petually contracting before the persecutions of man. It has entirely disappeared from Egypt and Cape Col- ony, where Le Vaillant found it in numbers during the last century. In many respects a valuable prize; 182 THE ANIMAL WORLD. of easy destruction, in spite, or rather on account of its size, which betrays it to the attacks of its enemies; a dangerous neighbor to plantations, it is condemned to retreat before the waves of advancing civilization, and would long since have been extirpated in all Africa, if the lakes and rivers of the interior of that vast den of barbarism were as busily plowed over as ours by boats and ships, or their banks as thickly strewn with towns and villages. 3. For the hippopotamus is not able, like so many other beasts of the wilderness, to hide itself in the gloom of impenetrable forests, or to plunge into the sandy desert; it requires the neighborhood of the stream, the empire of which it divides with its am- phibious neighbor the crocodile. Occasionally during the day it is to be seen basking on the shore amid ooze and mud, but throughout the night the unwieldy monster may be heard snorting and blowing during its aquatic gambols; it then sallies forth from its reed- grown coverts to graze by the light of the moon, never, however, venturing to any distance from the river, the stronghold to which it retreats on the smallest alarm. It feeds on grass alone, and when there is any danger only at night. Its enormous lips act like a mowing machine, and form a path of short cropped grass as it goes on eating. 4. In point of ugliness the hippopotamus might compete with the rhinoceros itself. Its shapeless car- cass rests upon short and disproportioned legs, and, with its vast belly almost trailing upon the ground, it may not inaptly be likened to an overgrown " prize- pig." Its immensely large head has each jaw armed THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 183 with two formidable tusks, those in the lower, which are always the largest, attaining at times two feet in length; and the inside of the mouth resembles a mass of butcher's meat. The eyes, which are placed in prominences like the garret windows of a Dutch house, the nostrils, and ears, are all on the same plane, on the upper level of the head, so that the unwieldy monster, when immersed in its favorite element, is able to draw breath, and to use three senses at once for hours together, without exposing more than its snout. The hide, which is upward of an inch and a half in thickness, and of a pinkish-brown color, clouded and freckled with a darker tint, is destitute of covering, excepting a few scattered hairs on the muzzle, the edges of the ears and tail. Though generally mild and inoffensive, it is not to be wondered at that a creature like this, which when full-grown attains a length of eleven or twelve feet, and nearly the same colossal girth, affords a truly appalling spectacle when enraged, and that a nervous person may well lose his presence of mind when suddenly brought into contact with the gaping monster. Even Andersson, a man ac- customed to all sorts of wild adventure, felt rather discomposed when one night a hippopotamus, without the slightest warning, suddenly protruded its enor- mous head into his bivouac, so that every man started to his feet with the greatest precipitation, some of the party, in the confusion, rushing into the fire and up- setting the pots containing the evening meal. 5. As among the elephants and other animals, el- derly males are sometimes expelled the herd, and, for want of company, become soured in their temper, and 184 THE ANIMAL WORLD. so misanthropic as to attack every boat that comes near them. The " rogue-hippopotami " frequent certain localities well known to the inhabitants of the banks, and, like the outcast elephants, are extremely danger- ous. Dr. Livingstone, passing a canoe which had been smashed to pieces by a blow from the hind foot of one of them, was informed by his men that, in case of a similar assault being made on his boat, the proper way was to dive to the bottom of the river, and hold on there for a few seconds, because the hippopotamus, after breaking a canoe, always looks for the people on the surface, and if he sees none, soon moves off. He saw some frightful gashes made on the legs of the people who, having had the misfortune to be attacked, were unable to dive. 6. In rivers where it is seldom disturbed, such as the Zambesi, the hippopotamus puts up its head openly to blow, and follows the traveler with an inquisitive glance, as if asking him, like the " moping owl " in the elegy, why he comes to molest its " ancient soli- tary reign? " but in other rivers, such as those of Londa, where it is much in danger of being shot, it takes good care to conceal its nose among water-plants, and to breathe so quietly that one would not dream of its existence in the river, except by footprints on the banks. Notwithstanding its stupid look — its promi- nent eyes and naked snout giving it more the appear- ance of a gigantic boiled calf's head than anything else — the huge creature is by no means deficient in in- telligence, knows how to avoid pitfalls, and has so good a memory that, when it has once heard a ball whiz about its ears, it never after ceases to be wide- THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 185 awake at the approach of danger. Being vulnerable only behind the ear, however, or in the eye, it requires the perfection of rifle-practice to be hit; and when once in the water, is still more difficult to kill, as it dives and swims with all the ease of a walrus, its huge body being rendered buoyant by an abundance of fat. Its flesh is said to be delicious, resembling the finest young pork, and is considered as great a delicacy in Africa as a bear's paw or a bison's hump in the prairies of North America. The thick and almost inflexible hide may be dragged from the ribs in strips, like the planks from a ship's side. These serve for the manu- facture of a superior description of sjambok, the elastic whip with which the Cape boer governs his team of twelve oxen or more, while proceeding on a journey. In Northern Africa it is used to chastise refractory dromedaries or servants; and the ancient Egyptians employed it largely in the manufacture of shields, hel- mets, and javelins. 7. But the most valuable part of the hippo- potamus is its teeth (canine and incisors), which are considered greatly superior to elephant ivory, and, when perfect and weighty, will fetch as much as one guinea per pound, being chiefly used for artificial teeth, since it does not readily turn yellow. All these uses to which the hippopotamus may be applied are naturally as many prices set upon its head; and the ravages it occasions in the fields are another motive for its destruction. On the White Nile the peasantry burn a number of fires, to scare the huge animal from their plantations, where every footstep plows deep furrows into the marshy ground. At the same time, 186 THE ANIMAL WORLD. they keep up a prodigious clamor of horns and drums, to terrify the ruinous brute, which, as may well be imagined, is by no means so great a favorite with them as with the visitors of the Zoological Gardens. They have besides another, and, where it succeeds, a far more efficacious method of freeing themselves from its depredations. They remark the places it most fre- quents, and there lay a large quantity of pease. When it comes on shore, hungry and voracious, it falls to eating what is nearest, and fills its vast stomach with the pease, which soon occasion an insupportable thirst. The river being close at hand, it immediately drinks whole buckets of water, which, by swelling the pease, cause it to blow up, like an overloaded mortar. 8. The natives on the Teoge, and other rivers that empty themselves into Lake Ngami, kill the hippo- potamus with iron harpoons, attached to long lines ending with a float. A huge reed raft, capable of car- rying both the hunters and their canoes, with all that is needful for the prosecution of the chase, is pushed from the shore, and afterward abandoned to the stream, which propels the unwieldy mass gently and noiselessly forward. Long before the hippopotami can be seen, they make known their presence by awful snorts and grunts while splashing and blowing in the water. On approaching the herd — for the gre- garious animal likes to live in troops of from twenty- five to thirty — the most skillful and intrepid of the hunters stands prepared with the harpoons, while the rest make ready to launch the canoes should the at- tack prove successful. The bustle and noise caused by these preparations gradually subside: at length not THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 187 even a whisper is heard, and in breathless silence the hunters wait for the decisive conflict. The snorting and plunging become every moment more distinct; a bend in the stream still hides the animals from view; but now the point is passed, and monstrous figures, that might be mistaken for shapeless cliffs, did not ever and anon one of them plunge and reappear, are seen dispersed over the troubled waters. On glides the raft, its crew worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, and at length reaches the herd, which per- fectly unconscious of danger, continue to enjoy their sports. Presently one of the animals is in immediate contact with the raft. Now is the critical moment; the foremost harpooner raises himself to his full height to give the greater force to the blow, and the next instant the iron is buried deep in the body of the bellowing hippopotamus. The wounded animal plunges violently and dives to the bottom, but all its efforts to escape are as ineffectual as those of the seal when pierced with the barbed iron of the Greenlander. 9. As soon as it is struck, one or more of the men launch a canoe from off the raft, and hastening to the shore with the harpoon line, take a round turn with it about a tree, so that the animal may either be brought up at once, or should there be too great a strain on the line, " played," like a trout or salmon by the fisher- man. Sometimes both line and buoy are cast into the water, and all the canoes being launched from off the raft, chase is given to the poor brute, who whenever he comes to the surface is saluted with a shower of javelins. A long trail of blood marks his progress, his flight becomes slower and slower, his breathing 188 THE ANIMAL WORLD. more oppressive, until at last, his strength ebbing away through fifty wounds, he floats dead on the surface. 10. But as the whale will sometimes turn upon his assailants, so also the. hippopotamus not seldom makes a dash at his persecutors, and either with his tusks, or with a blow from his head, staves in or cap- sizes the canoe. Sometimes even, not satisfied with Wrecking his vengeance on the craft, he seizes one or other of the crew, and with a single grasp of his jaws, either terribly mutilates the poor wretch or even cuts his body fairly in two. 11. The natives of Southern Africa, also resort to the ingenious but cruel plan of destroying the hip- popotamus by means of a trap, consisting of a beam, four or five feet long, armed with a spear-head or hard wood spike, covered with poison, and suspended from a forked pole by a cord, which coming down to the path, is held by a catch, to be set free when the beasts tread on it. On the banks of many rivers these traps are set over every track which the animals have made in going up out of the water to graze; but the hippo- potami, being wary brutes, are still very numerous. "While Dr. Livingstone was on the river Shire, a hippopotamus got frightened by the ship, as she was steaming close to the banks. In its eager hurry to escape from an imaginary danger, the poor animal fell into a very real one, for rushing on shore, it ran di- rectly under a trap, when down came the heavy beam on its back, driving the poisoned spear-head a foot deep in its flesh. In its agony, it plunged back into the river, where it soon after expired. G. Haetwig, " The Tropical World." THE SPONGE. 189 THE SPONGE. 1. Among the lowest forms of life in the world, the sponge is that which first attracts attention. This marine animal, which, as a production of nature, has been known from early antiquity, was a puzzle to the early naturalists, who could not make up their minds whether it was animal or vegetable. The curious fact was perceived that the sponge would shrink from the hand that grasped it, and that it clung to the rocks on which it was fixed with much tenacity, seeming to be endowed with an almost voluntary force. The an- cient observers of nature also distinguished males from females among the sponges, but still they could not make up their minds about its exact place as animal or plant. It was not till the studies of the great Swedish naturalist Linnasus threw so much light on many previously debated questions that the sponge was finally decided to be an animal. Sponges live at the bottom of the sea, at various depths, among the clefts and crevices of rock, adhering not only to inor- ganic bodies but to seaweed and animals, spreading either erect or hanging, according to the body which supports them. 2. In the months of April and May sponges de- velop ova, or eggs, round, yellow, or white, from which soon proceed embryos, furnished at one end with deli- cate vibrating cilia or feelers. These are carried off by the currents, or swim around the parent sponge, seeking a place to which they may attach themselves. 190 THE ANIMAL WORLD. They soon fix themselves to some foreign body, and become henceforth immovable, no longer giving signs of either sensibility or contractibility, while in their enlargement they are completely transformed. The substance is soon riddled with holes, and the sponge is formed. Professor Milne Edwards considers each sponge to be an individual by itself; and, as his opin- ions aboutthis queer sea animal have become generally accepted, we shall briefly give his ideas. The innu- merable canals by which the substance of the sponge is traversed are at once its lungs and its stomach. The water passes into the numerous little openings into the canals, and is the respiratory fluid. It traverses all the different channels, and escapes by spiral openings. The currents of water passing into the sponge not only furnish breathing fluid, but also food, and carry off the excrement. The walls of the canals offer a large ab- sorbing surface, which separates the oxygen necessary for life, and throws off the carbonic-acid gas. 3. Some sponges form masses of a light, elastic tissue, which is at the same time resistant. The num- ber of different species is supposed to be about four hundred, and they are found of every diversity of size and shape — in some cases three or four feet in diame- ter. In many cases the skeleton of sponges consists of horny or siliceous fibers, and hard mineral bodies are found in them. On buying a sponge as prepared for the market, it will be noticed that at first the sub- stance is full of these little foreign bodies, which were brought with it up from the deep-sea bottom. At the present time sponge fishing takes place mostly in the Grecian Archipelago and the Mediterranean Sea. THE SPONGE. . 191 Sometimes the eye will discover a hundred vessels in sight during the fishing season, which is from the first of June to the first of November. There are about a thousand fishing vessels engaged in the gathering of sponges. The operations of the fishermen may be briefly described. The inferior sponges are sought for in shallow water in the crevices of the shore rocks, from which they are detached by three-pronged har- poons. This, however, injures the sponge more or less. The finer sponge is found in deep water, and is brought up by divers, who detach the sponge from its rocky base by carefully cutting with a knife. This life is accompanied by extreme danger, as the sponge diver, like the pearl diver, is not only short-lived, in consequence of the extreme fatigue and exposure of his labors, but subject in a still more terrifying degree to the attacks of that tiger of the sea, the shark, which grows in these regions to a great size, and exhibits a corresponding ferocity. Every sponge fleet which re- turns with its hard-earned harvest has to report the horrible death of not a few of the wretched divers, whose laborious life is thus encompassed with double perils. 4. The Archipelago furnishes for the most part the coarser sponges, while the finer grades are found on the coast of Syria and off Barbary. In the latter region sponges of great fineness are also found of great size. Some attempts have been made to naturalize the different varieties of sponges on the coasts of France and Algeria with a fair degree of success, and this culture promises to be a profitable one in the future. The more the sponges advance toward the 192 THE ANIMAL WORLD. north in their habitat, the finer they become, the warm tropical seas being rather favorable to the growth of the coarser species. The fine Syrian sponge is distin- guished for its lightness, its flaxen color, its cup-like form, and the fineness of its texture and orifices. This is specially used for the toilet, and its price is very high. Tbe heavy and reddish Barbary sponge is also valuable for domestic use on account of the facility with which it absorbs water and its great strength. Sponges are found in different portions of the world, but those of the Mediterranean Sea are considered the most valuable. Anonymous, " A World of Wonders." BIKDS-OF-PAKADISE. 1. The Birds-of -Paradise are a small, but renowned family. They received their name from the idea, en- tertained at one time, that they inhabited the region of the Mosaic paradise. They live in a small locality in Australasia, including Papua or New Guinea, and a few adjacent islands. They are not easily tamed and kept confined ; and few have been brought alive from their native locality. Mr. Beale had one at Macao, China, that had been in captivity nine years; several have been kept at Amboyna, but very few have ever been carried to Europe, although specimens of the skins and prepared birds were taken there more than three hundred years ago. Anthony Pigafetta, one of BIRDS-OF-PARADISE. 193 the companions of Magellan, first imported them into Europe in 1522. 2. In form and size they somewhat resemble our crow, or blue-jay; but some are smaller. They are usually included in the tribe of cone-bills, though their bills are quite slender for that group, and a little com- pressed. The bills are covered at the base with downy or velvety feathers which extend over the nostrils: their wings are long and round; the tail consists of ten feathers, two of them, in some species, very long; legs and feet very long, large and strong; outer toe longer than inner, and joined to the middle one toward the base; hind-toe very long; claws long and curved. But they are chiefly remarkable for the wonderful de- velopment of various parts of their plumage, and for the metallic splendor of its rich hues. The sides of the body, and sometimes of the head, neck, breast, or tail, are ornamented with lengthened, peculiarly de- veloped, and showy feathers. Says Wood : " In all the species, the feathers glow with resplendent radi- ance; in nearly all there is some strange and alto- gether unique arrangement of the plumage; and, in many, the feathers are modified into plumes, ribbons, and streamers, that produce the most surprising and lovely effects." The plumage of the face, breast, and throat, is usually the richest in metallic tints, while other parts frequently have very beautiful and bril- liant colors. 3. Their food consists of grasshoppers, butterflies, moths, and other insects; figs, the berries of various trees and shrubs; seeds, rice, and other kinds of grain. During the heat of the day they remain concealed in 14 194 THE ANIMAL WORLD. the woods, but, in the morning and evening, come forth to seek their food. Furious storms frequently bring them to the ground, when they are easily taken by the natives, who also shoot them with blunt arrows, or take them with a noose, likewise with bird-lime, or other glutinous substance, placed on the branches which they frequent. They sometimes stupefy them with cocculus indicus. Europeans shoot them with shot-guns. The natives formerly skinned the birds, cut off the legs and wings, and dried the skin on a stick. Later they took out the interior organs of the bird, cut off the legs, and smoked the birds with sul- phur, or seared them inside with a hot iron; and, after being thoroughly dried, they put them in the hollow of a bamboo, to secure the plumage from injury. They are used by the natives, the Japanese, Chinese, East Indians, and Persians, for adorning the turbans of the men, the head-dresses of the women, and for various other purposes of ornament. The Chinese make imi- tations of these birds from the feathers of parrots and paroquets, to sell to strangers. The feathers were for- merly, and are still, used very much as ostrich-feathers are. By their lightness and luster, they are extremely well suited for the ornaments of dress, and are very highly prized. In Europe and America, at the pres- ent time, they are sought for with avidity, to adorn ladies' hats, etc. The birds and feathers for the Euro- pean market are principally obtained at Batavia and Singapore, whither the natives of Celebes, and others, bring them from Papua and the Arroo Islands. In India they derive much of their value from the mi- raculous virtues which the priests have ascribed to BIRDS-OF-PARADISE. 195 them, causing the creature that produced them to re- ceive the title " Bird of God," Manuco-Dewata; from which Buffon coined the modern French name, Manu- code. Dr. Forster suggests, but perhaps without rea- son, that this bird may have been the phoenix of an- tiquity. 4. During the dry weather of the northwestern monsoon, in our autumn and winter, many of the birds leave Papua and go west to the Arroo group; but, upon the commencement of the wet weather of the southeastern monsoon, in our spring, they imme- diately return to Papua. They usually fly, on these occasions, in flocks of thirty or forty, with a reputed leader. Their moulting-time is from May to August, during the southeastern monsoon. On account of the difficulty of managing their enormously-lengthened gossamer-like plumage, they usually face the wind, whether flying or sitting. In proceeding from one place to another, they are often distressed by sudden shif tings of the wind; and, being unable to proceed in their flight against it, or go with safety before it, they are sometimes thrown to the ground. In tem- pestuous weather they seek the most sheltered retreats of the thickest woods. Although very active and sprightly, they are exceedingly shy and retiring in their habits. The false ideas that they were footless, lived ever on the wing, or occasionally rested sus- pended by the tail; fed on the dew; reared their young on the shoulders of the male, and came from the terrestrial paradise, have all had their day, but are too absurd to be more than alluded to now. 5. The Greater Paradise-Bird (Paradisea apoda), 196 THE ANIMAL "WOELD. frequently called the Emerald Bird of Paradise, is smaller than the crow. Linnseus gave the specific name " apoda " to this bird, which was generally and erroneously called footless, to designate the species, not to perpetuate the error. This bird seeks the thickest foliage of the loftiest trees, in which to remain con- cealed during the day. The feathers on the head, throat, and neck, are very short and dense. Those round the base of the bill, and on the face, are velvety and black, changing their color to green, as the direc- tion of the light changes; those on the throat, the front half of the neck, and the upper part of the breast, are of a bright, deep, emerald green; those on the head, back of the neck, and the shoulders, are of a light, golden yellow. The eye is at the common point between these colors. If lines were drawn from it to the throat, to the forehead, and down the sides of the neck, and curved to a point on the breast, they would indicate very well the limits of the colors. The back, wings, tail, and belly, are of a bright, reddish chest- nut, the breast being a little darker, and inclining to purple. From each side beneath the wings proceed a large number of long, floating, graceful plumes, some eighteen inches in length, of exceeding delicacy of texture and appearance. These extend far beyond the tail-feathers, which are about six inches long, and " their translucent golden-white veinlets produce a most superb effect, as they cross and recross each other, forming every imaginable shade of white, gold, and orange, and then deepening toward their extremities into a soft, purplish red." From the upper part of the tail proceed two black shafts or filaments, some BIKDS-OF-PARADISE. 197 eighteen inches long, appearing like small wires, about one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter. The female has no floating plumes, no gem-like feathers, and no bril- liant colors. The head is dark-brown; the neck, light- brown; the upper parts of the body, wings, and tail, reddish chestnut; the breast and belly, white. 6. In Bennett's " "Wanderings " is an interesting description of Mr. Beale's bird, at Macao. The writer says: " This elegant creature has a light, playful, and graceful manner, with an arch and impudent look; dances about when a visitor approaches the cage, and seems delighted at being made an object of admiration. Its notes are very peculiar, resembling the cawing of a raven; but its tones are, by far, more varied. It washes itself regularly, twice daily, and, after having performed its ablutions, throws its delicate feathers up, nearly over the head, the quills of which feathers have a peculiar structure, so as to enable the bird to effect this object. Its food, during confinement, is boiled rice, mixed up with soft eggs, together with plantains, and living insects of the grasshopper tribe; these insects, when thrown to him, the bird contrives to catch in his beak with great celerity; but, if, through failure to catch them, they should fall to the floor, he will not descend to them, appearing to be fearful that, in so doing, he would soil his delicate plumage; he will eat insects in a living state, but will not touch them when dead. One of the best oppor- tunities of seeing this splendid bird, in all its beauty of actions, as well as display of plumage, is early in the morning, when he makes his toilet; the beautiful sub- alar plumage is then thrown out and cleaned from any 198 THE ANIMAL WORLD. spot that may sully its purity, by being passed gently through the bill; the short, chocolate-colored wings are extended to the utmost, and he keeps them in a steady, napping motion, as if in imitation of their use in flight, at the same time raising up the delicate, long feathers over the back, which are spread in a chaste and elegant manner, floating like films in the ambient air. In this position the bird would remain for a short time, seemingly proud of its heavenly beauty, and in raptures of delight with its most en- chanting self; it will then assume various attitudes, so as to regard its plumage in every direction. Hav- ing completed its toilet, it utters the usual cawing notes, at the same time looking archly at the spectators, as if ready to receive all the admiration that it con- siders its elegant form and display of plumage demand. It then takes exercise by hopping in a rapid but grace- ful manner from one end of the upper perch to the other, and descends suddenly upon the second perch, close to the bars of the cage, looking out for the grass- hoppers, which it is accustomed to receive about this time." 7. Vanity and egotism, as usually developed, are exceedingly offensive and distasteful; but when we see a delicate creature, so richly embellished, so neat and cleanly in its habits, so fastidious in its tastes, so scrupulously exact in its observances, and so winning in all its ways, as to etherealize the commonest actions, they become not only endurable, but amusing, and even enjoyable. And if a bird, in a state of hopeless captivity, exhibits such marked traits of character, acts out so truthfully the promptings of its nature, shows A Costa Ricau Owl. THE OWL. 199 so evidently its desire to please, and possesses so nice an appreciation of being admired, how perfect must be all its ways and actions, as developed in the pure, bright air, fragrant groves, and luxuriant surround- ings of its native haunts! James H. Partridqe, " The Popular Science Monthly." THE OWL. In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower, The spectral owl doth dwell; Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour, But at dusk he's abroad and well! Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him; All mock him outright by day; But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, The boldest will shrink away! 0, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, Then, then, is the reign of the homed owl! And the owl hath a bride, who is fond and bold, And loveth the wood's deep gloom; And, with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold, She awaiteth her ghastly groom; Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings, As she waits in her tree so still; But when her heart heareth his napping wings, She hoots out her welcome shrill! 0, when the moon shines, and dogs do howl, Then, then, is the joy of the homed owl! 200 THE ANIMAL WOELB. 3. Mourn not for the owl, nor his gloomy plight! The owl hath his share of good : If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, He is lord in the dark greenwood! . Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate, They are each unto each a pride; Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate Hath rent them from all beside! 80, when the night falls, and dogs do howl, Sing, ho! for the reign of the homed owl! We Jcnow not alway Who are Icings by day, But the king of the night is the bold brown owl! Bryan W. Procter. MICKOSCOPIC ANIMALCULES. 1. The animalcules which comprise the micro- scopic world have for a long time been known by the name of Infusoria, but the term ought to be aban- doned, as many of these creatures do not live in infu- sions, but, on the contrary, inhabit the sea and fresh water. It would therefore be better to substitute the names Microzoa and Protozoa; the former meaning little animals, the latter the obscure beginnings of animal organization. For a long time the anatomy of these invisible beings appeared a perfect mystery, and men despaired of ever comprehending it. Baron Gleichen, having steeped carmine in water containing MICROSCOPIC ANIMALCULES. 201 some of these animalcules, was quite astonished to see them fill themselves with ^coloring matter. But this important fact passed unnoticed. Buffon and Lamarck still continued to look upon them as simple little masses of animated gelatin. A French naturalist, Dujardin, reared up a complete theory on these data. According to him the tissue of the animalcule repre- sents a sort of spongy woof, capable of hollowing itself out into accidental cavities, which admit food and expel it by means of an outlet which opens for this purpose in the surface of the body. A strange hypoth- esis, according to which the microzoon hollows out for itself stomachs in its own proper substance and of its own free will! 2. The difficulty is to believe that such a theory held sway in France long after the publication of Ehrenberg's magnificent work on " The Infusoria," in which the learned Prussian naturalist demonstrated, for the first time, that these creatures, notwithstanding their extreme minuteness, possess in some cases a sur- prisingly complicated internal organization. Their form is, as a rule, fixed, and it is quite an exception that some of them change at will, and present to the eyes of the astonished observers so many different aspects, that at the expiration of five minutes they can- not be recognized. At one moment they are globular or three-cornered; an instant after they are seen tak- ing on the appearance of a star. Accordingly, these creatures, the forms of which elude our grasp, have received the name of Protei, from the enchanter of Virgil, who by his wonderful metamorphoses was en- abled to escape the notice of every one. Some animal- 202 THE ANIMAL WORLD. cules of this class surround themselves with impro- vised feet like living roots, the arrangement of which they are seen varying in a thousand ways. Sometimes they lengthen them out preposterously, sometimes they make them entirely disappear. They scatter them, weld them together, or entwine them like the locks of a Gorgon. 3. The microscopic world also has its extremes. There is as wide a distance between the bulk of its tiniest representative, the crepuscular monad, and that of one of its largest, the hooded Colpodos, as there is between a beetle and an elephant. Nothing is more marvelous than the organization of these invisible beings, and if attentive observations had not placed the facts beyond doubt, men might have been tempted to think that the accounts given by naturalists were pure fiction or else audacious falsehoods. 4. A single Microzoon has, so to speak, no weight; placed in the most sensitive balance it does not impart to it the slightest oscillation. The whale, on the other hand, attains a length of one hundred feet, and a weight of two hundred tons — more than the weight of an army of three thousand men; and yet, the profu- sion of vital apparatus in the Microzoa sometimes ex- ceeds that which is seen in these large animals, and in many others. There are some which possess fifteen to twenty stomachs, or even more. In addition there is, in some Infusoria, a curious mechanism appended to this superabundance of organs — one of the stomachs being furnished with teeth of extreme delicacy, which can be seen through the transparent body moving and crushing the food. Notwithstanding the extreme MICROSCOPIC ANIMALCULES. 203 minuteness of these creatures, which remained un- known through so many ages, Nature has expended the most watchful care upon them. Some of them are sheltered heneath a calcareous cuirass; and in many the protecting carapace is indestructible, and of the nature of flint, being formed of silex. 5. According to Ehrenberg some of the Infusoria have even eyes, which at times present the appearance of flaming red pupils. If we could suppose organs of such minuteness possessing a field of vision large enough to allow these animalcules to see us with the instruments which we use to observe them, can we imagine what a terrific impression we must make upon them when they see themselves in our hands. Lastly, many of these animalcules have, in the interior of the body, large cavities which incessantly empty and fill themselves with colored fluid. These cavities repre- sent the heart of large animals, and their fluid the blood; and this circulating system is relatively so large , that it may be stated, without any exaggeration, that some microscopic beings have hearts fifty times as large and as strong in proportion as that of the horse or ox. 6. If the wonderful organic perfection of those living corpuscles surpass all our preconceived ideas, their perpetual activity affords ground for no less astonishment. The life of all animals is made up of alternate action and repose, of movement which wastes the forces, and sleep which repairs them; but the Infusoria are strangers to anything of the kind; their life is an emblem of incessant agitation. Ehrenberg, who observed them at all hours of the night, always 204: THE ANIMAL WORLD. found them in movement, and accordingly concluded that they had neither rest nor sleep! Even the plant, exhausted by its life, mounting unseen through its tissues, sleeps at the close of day; the animalcule, not- withstanding its prodigious activity, does not. Struck with the fact, Owen has conjectured that this extraor- dinary activity might be due to the enormous develop- ment of the digestive system in the Infusoria, seeing that a man, a lion, or a tiger has only one stomach, an ox or a camel four or five, while invisible Microzoa have sometimes a hundred! 7. In proportion as science has been perfected the horizon of life has been enlarged, and a microscopic world, full of animated existence, has been revealed in every spot to which investigation has been able to reach. The polar ices, the elevated regions of the atmosphere, and the gloomy depths of ocean, are peo- pled with living organisms; and everywhere their prodigious concentration astonishes us as much as the infinite variety of their forms. If the beautiful dis- coveries of Ehrenberg did not prove the fact, who would believe that these tiny creatures, so minute as to be invisible, possess more vital resistance than the most vigorous animals? Where the severity of the climate kills the most robust of the vegetable world, where a few scattered animals pick up a precarious subsistence, the delicate organism of the Microzoa suffers no injury from the most terrible cold that is experienced. More than fifty species of animalcules with siliceous carapaces were discovered by Captain Sir James Ross on the rounded masses of ice which float in the Polar Seas at the seventy-eighth degree of MICROSCOPIC ANIMALCULES. 205 south latitude. Some of those which this navigator collected in the vicinity of Victoria Land, in spite of distance and storms, arrived full of vitality at Berlin. 8. In these desolate regions the depths of ocean offer to the view even more life than its surface. In the Gulf of Erebus, the plummet brought up, from a depth of more than five hundred yards, seventy-eight species of siliceous Microzoa; and they have been dis- covered at a depth of more than twelve thousand feet, where they had to support the enormous pressure of three hundred and seventy-five atmospheres — a pres- sure capable of bursting a cannon, but which the gelatinous body of a microscopic infusorium resists in some marvelous way. These living corpuscles, which swarm in the transparent regions of the ocean, abound equally in the muddy waters of our rivers and ponds, and without being aware of it we daily swallow myri- ads of them in the fluids we drink. If with the aid of the microscope we were to scrutinize everything that a single drop of water sometimes contains, there would be seen enough to frighten many people. 9. Every one who has sailed at night upon the sea, or passed along its shores, is acquainted with the phe- nomenon of phosphorescence, which for a long time puzzled the sagacity of the learned. It was attributed to very different causes, but is now known to depend upon the presence of a multitude of animals. Some- times, when of small extent, it is caused by fish trav- ersing the waves like a flaming arrow; at other times it is owing to the presence of the Medusce, the brilliant disks of which are seen calm and motionless in the depths of the waters; or to the Physophora, trailing 206 THE ANIMAL WORLD. behind them their tresses all spangled with stars like those of Berenice in the firmament. Certain mol- lusks, too, though enveloped in their shells, are never- theless phosphorescent. Even Pliny remarked that the mouths of persons who had eaten Pholades were quite luminous. 10. This phenomenon, however, is most fre- quently seen in places where the sea is in movement; every wave then rolls with luminous foam against the prow of the ship, and the billows gleam like the starry sky. These myriads of phosphorescent par- ticles, which make the sea sparkle, are only Microzoa of extreme minuteness, but of which the bulk is in- creased a hundred-fold by their splendor. The ocean produces these animalcules in almost every part. Each bed of it, says Humboldt, is peopled with them at depths which exceed the height of the greatest moun- tain chains, and under the influence of certain mete- orological changes we see them rise to the surface of its watery sheet, where they form immense luminous furrows in the wake of the ships. 11. Water presents another peculiarity equally curious, and for a long time inexplicable. At times it takes on a blood-red tint, which in every age has startled and alarmed the vulgar. From the remotest times men kept asking what might be the cause of this phenomenon, which had so much of the marvelous about it, and it was only explained on some strange hypothesis or other. But since the discovery of the microscope it has been thoroughly investigated, and it has been shown that the redness of the water depends upon the presence of extremely small plants and ani- MICROSCOPIC ANIMALCULES. 207 mals, which, under the influence of certain atmos- pheric conditions, multiply in such abundance, that the mind only with difficulty realizes the marvelous nature of their procreation. 12. A Belgian savant, M. Morren, after collect- ing together nearly all that had been written on the subject of red water from the days of Moses up to our own, gives a list of twenty-two species of animals, and almost as many plants, capable of communicating this blood color. 13. When Ehrenberg planted his tent by the shore of the Red Sea, near the town of Tor, not far from Mount Sinai, he had the rare good fortune to behold this sea tinged with the blood-red color to which, from the remotest antiquity, it has owed its name. At this very time its waves deposited on the shore a gelatinous matter of a beautiful purple color, which the great Prussian naturalist recognized as be- ing composed of a single microscopic alga, the Red Trichodesmia, the sole cause of this celebrated phe- nomenon. F. A. Pouchet, " The Universe." 208 THE ANIMAL WORLD. THE METAMOEPHOSIS OF INSECTS. 1. The grand peculiarity of insects is their meta- morphosis, or change of form. Almost every insect undergoes this change, there being commonly three distinct changes of being. In the first stage the insect is a crawling caterpillar or a -worm. In its second stage it is wrapped up in a covering prepared for the purpose* and is in a state of sleep. During this sleep great changes are going on. When these are com- pleted it is a winged animal,- its wings being closely folded up. In due time it comes out of its prison, and spreads its wings for flight. It is now deemed to have arrived at its perfect condition. 2. In its first stage it is called a Larva, this being the Latin word for mask, the idea being that the insect is now not in its true state or character, but is in a masked condition, from which it will after a while come out. When it does so it is called the Imago, or said to be in the imago state. The insect is now the image or representative in full of its species. Its sleeping state, the one intermediate between the larva state and the imago state, is a transition one. In this the insect is changing from a crawling to a flying ani- mal. It is now termed a Pupa, the Latin for baby, because it commonly appears somewhat like an infant trussed up with bandages, as has sometimes been the fashion in some nations. 3. The different larvae of insects have the different names of maggot, grub, and caterpillar, according to THE METAMORPHOSIS OF INSECTS. 209 their form and appearance. The pupse of butterflies and moths were formerly called chrysalids and aure- lias, because the coverings of some of them have spots of a golden hue. The term chrysalis is often used at the present day as synonymous with pupa, and this state of the insect is called the chrysalid state. 4. The changes which take place in,the pupa state are very great, even radical ones. There is commonly no resemblance between the Larva and its Imago. There may be great beauty in the Imago, and none in the Larva, and sometimes the reverse is the case. Then, as to form and general structure, the contrast is of the most marked character. In the larva state it was a slow, crawling animal, but in the imago state it is light, perhaps delicate in structure, and is nimble on the wing. And the change is as great internally as it is externally. Its stomach even is changed, for its mode of getting a livelihood is different now. There are corresponding changes about the mouth, a coiled tongue perhaps appearing in place of the for- midable gnawing apparatus of the larva. In relation to this change it has been well said, " Were a natural- ist to announce to the world the discovery of an animal which for the first five years of its life existed in the form of a serpent; which then, penetrating into the earth, and wearing a shroud of pure silk of the finest texture, contracted itself within this covering into a body without external mouth or limbs, and resem- bling more than anything else an Egyptian mummy; and which, lastly, after remaining in this state, for three years longer, should, at the end of that period, burst its cerements, struggle through its earthly cov- 15 210 THE ANIMAL WORLD. ering, and start into day a winged bird, what would be the sensation excited by this piece of intelligence? " And yet this would be no more wonderful than the ordinary metamorphosis of insects. Indeed, many of the most marvelous circumstances in this change are not at all referred to in the supposition above made. 5. The larva is produced from an egg, and the egg is laid by the perfect insect or imago. When the larva is first hatched it is very small, but it grows with a rapidity always great, in some cases enormous. The maggots of flesh flies are said to increase in weight two hundred times in twenty-four hours. To make such an increase these animals must eat voraciously. With the great multiplication of their number, the amount which a collection of them will sometimes devour is wonderful. Linnaeus calculated that three flesh flies and their immediate progeny would eat up the carcass of a horse sooner than a lion would do it. 6. In the imago state the insect eats but little, as it grows little or none ordinarily. The butterfly or moth comes forth from its prison fully grown; but the caterpillar from which it was formed was very small at the' outset, and became large by large eating. Our common flies are small and delicate eaters, but the maggots, the larvae from which they came, rioting in filth, devour largely what the flies will not touch. The great growth of larvae obliges them to cast their skins repeatedly. The silkworm and other caterpil- lars cast their skins about four times during their growth. 7. Insects pass the time of their pupa state under various circumstances. Some, when about going into s THE METAMORPHOSIS OP INSECTS. 211 this state, crawl into some by-place away from in- truders. Some work their way into the ground, and perhaps spin a silken lining for the earth-cells in which they are to sleep through their change. Some roll themselves up in leaves. Some construct for them- selves a silken house, called a cocoon, attached to some leaf or twig. 8. Among those that do this last is the silkworm. The formation of the cocoon I will describe. When the worm has its silk factory, which is near its mouth, properly stocked with the gummy pulp from which the silk is to be spun, it seeks a good place where it can have a sort of scaffolding for its cocoon. It first spins some loose floss, attaching it to things around. Next it begins to wind its silk round and round, making a cocoon at length, shaped much like a pigeon's egg, be- ing smaller at one end than the other. It thus gradu- ally shuts itself up in a silken prison. The last of the silk which it spins is the most delicate of all, and it is well glued together, making a very smooth surface next to the silkworm's body. The silken house being constructed, it now prepares itself for its sleep and its change. It sheds its skin now for the fourth and last time, tucking its old clothes, as we may say, very snugly at one end of the cocoon. It then passes into its sleep, and a new and thin skin is formed over it, in which it gradually changes into an animal endowed with wings. At the proper time it works its way out of its prison, unfolds its wings, and flies off, not to eat mulberry leaves, as it did in the larva state, but to sip the honey from the flowers. 9. Observe the manner of its exit and the arrange- 212 THE ANIMAL WORLD. ments for it. The head is always at the small end of the cocoon, and here the silk is less closely wound and less tightly cemented by the gluey substance. The old clothes are always at the other end, so as not to be in the way. The new coat which was formed as it entered the pupa state is easily torn, and the moth, moistening the cocoon with a fluid from" its mouth at the part where it is to escape, easily forces its way through. The opening from which it emerges is very small, and the shape of the animal before it expands its wings is that of a long bundle. 10. The thread with which the worm makes its cocoon is an unbroken one. It can, therefore, be un- wound qr reeled off, which is done in obtaining it for manufacture. For this purpose the cocoons are ex- posed to the heat of an oven in order to kill the pupae in them, and then, by a little soaking in warm water, the glutinous matter which unites the silk is so sof- tened that the thread can be readily unwound. The length of it varies from six hundred to a thousand feet; and as it is double as spun out by the insect, its real length is nearly two thousand feet. So fine is this double thread, that the silk that comes from one co- coon does not weigh above three and a half grains, and it requires ten thousand cocoons to supply five pounds of silk. The native countries of the silkworm are China and the East Indies; and in ancient times the manufacture of silk was confined to them. So scarce was the article in other countries, even as late as James I. of England, that this monarch, before his accession to the throne, wore on some public oc- casion a borrowed pair of silk stockings. But at the THE METAMORPHOSIS OP INSECTS. 213 present time the culture of the silkworm and the manufacture of silk are so widely diffused, that silk is everywhere, in civilized communities, one of the common articles of dress. 11. When a pupa is to remain out of doors all the winter, special pains are taken to guard it against the cold. For this purpose great numbers of insects in the autumn dig their way down into the ground, and pass their pupa state in an earthy cell below the reach of frost. Some line this cell with silk, making thus a soft covering for the body, and shutting out more effectually the cold. Some of the caterpillars accomplish the same object by constructing above ground a cocoon specially adapted to guard against the cold. This is exemplified in the case of one of the largest and most splendid of our American moths — the Cecropia moth. It is found, as Professor Jaeger states, all the way from the Canadas to the Mexican Gulf, and also in all the Western States. It has large wings, measuring five to six inches from tip to tip. The scales on them are dusky brown. The borders of the wings are richly variegated, the anterior ones having near their tops a dark spot resembling an eye, and both pairs having kidney-shaped red spots. In this case the caterpillar, or larva, is nearly as beauti- ful in colors as the perfect insect or imago. It is of a light green color, and has coral-red warts, with short black bristles, over its body. It feeds on the leaves of trees till August or September, and then descends to seek for some currant or barberry bush upon which it may build its house for its winter sleep. " Any one," says Professor Jaeger, " who meets with these 214 THE ANIMAL WORLD. caterpillars in the above-mentioned months may have the pleasure of witnessing their metamorphosis into cocoons, and several months after into an elegant moth, by taking them up very carefully upon leaves and carrying them home, placing them in a spacious box, with a little undisturbed earth at the bottom, and then putting into it some dry brush-wood, about one foot high, and covering the whole with gauze in order to prevent their escape." 12. I will now describe the peculiar construction of the cocoon. That of the silkworm is a simple cocoon, no special provision being made against the cold, as the pupa state, instead of lasting through the winter months, is finished in a few weeks. But in the case of the Ceeropia moth there is a covering outside of the proper cocoon. This covering is fastened to a branch of some bush. It is made very strong, as its fibers are much more closely joined together than those of the cocoon inside of it. Often there are leaves attached to it, leaving the impression of their veins or nerves upon it when you have detached them. The animal evidently uses these leaves as a sort of scaffold- ing when it begins to construct its winter home. In spinning this covering it works all the while inside, as it does in spinning the cocoon. After finishing it, it lines it with coarse loose silk, and then proceeds, to spin its cocoon in the same way that the silkworm does, making it of the same shape. The loose silk between the cocoon and the outer covering is blan- keting for the purpose of warmth. By these means the pupa or chrysalis is secured against dampness and cold, and amid all the storms of winter is even more THE METAMORPHOSIS OF INSECTS. 215 safe from harm than an infant in its cradle under the watch of an anxious mother. 13. As in the case of the silkworm moth, the Cecropia always comes out at the smaller end, and here both the cocoon and the outer covering are made less close and strong than in the other portions. In New England this moth comes forth in June. Last year I obtained from my garden two cocoons which were near each other on a currant bush. I gave one to a lad living on Staten Island, and re- tained the other myself. His moth came out three weeks before mine, corresponding with the advance of the season there before ours. When mine emerged I caught the same evening in my house two others, and on the following evening three more. As we saw none before or after, this seems to show that these moths come forth almost simultaneously in the same locality. 14. Dr. Harris, in his work on the " Insects of !New England," recommends a trial of the manufac- ture of silk from the cocoons of the Cecropia and some other of our large indigenous moths. " Their large cocoons," he says, " consisting entirely of silk, the fibers of which far surpass those of the silkworm in strength, might be employed in the formation of fabrics similar to those manufactured in India from the cocoons of the Tusseh and Arindi silkworms, the durability of which is such that a garment of Tusseh silk is scarcely worn out in the lifetime of one person, but often descends from mother to daughter; and even the covers of palanquins made of it, though ex- posed to the influence of the weather, last many years. 216 THE ANIMAL WORLD. Experiments have been made with the silk of the Cecropia, which has been carded and spun, and woven into stockings that wash like linen." The silk can be very easily reeled off from the cocoons. 15. Some insects go through an imperfect meta- morphosis,' as the grasshoppers and locusts. They are produced from the eggs without wings, but have been formed gradually while they are in a state of activity. Worthington Hooker, " Natural History." THE ARTIFICES OF ANIMALS. 1. The deer kind are remarkable for the arts they employ in order to deceive the dogs. With this view the stag often returns twice or thrice upon his former steps. He endeavors to raise hinds or younger stags to follow him, and draw off the dogs from the immediate object of their pursuit. If he succeeds in this attempt, he then flies off with redoubled speed, or springs off at a side, and lies down on his belly to conceal himself. When in this situation, if by any means his trail is recovered by the dogs, they pursue him with more advantage, because he is now consid- erably fatigued. No other resource is now left him but to fly from the earth which he treads, and go into the waters, in order to cut off the scent from the dogs, when the huntsmen again endeavor to put them on his trail. After taking to the water the stag is so much exhausted that he is incapable of running much THE ARTIFICES OP ANIMALS. 217 farther, and is soon at bay, or, in other words, turns and defends himself against the hounds. In this situ- ation he often wounds the dogs, and even the hunts- men, by blows with the horns, till one of them cuts his hams to make him fall, and then puts a period to his life. 2. The fallow-deer are more delicate, less savage, and approach nearer to the domestic state than the stag: They associate in herds, which generally keep together. When great numbers are assembled in one park, they commonly form themselves into two dis- tinct troops, which soon become hostile, because they are both ambitious of possessing the same part of the inclosure. Each of these troops has its own chief or leader, who always marches foremost, and he is uni- formly the oldest and strongest of the herd. The others follow him; and the whole draw up in order of battle, to force the other troop, who observe the same conduct, from the best pasture. When hunted, they run not straight out, like the stag, but double, and endeavor to conceal themselves from the dogs by various artifices, and by substituting other ani- mals in their place. When fatigued and heated, how- ever, they take to the water, but never attempt to cross such large rivers as the stag does. 3. The roe-deer is inferior to the stag and fallow- deer, both in strength and stature; but he is endowed with more gracefulness, courage, and vivacity. His eyes are more brilliant and animated. His limbs are more nimble; his movements are quicker, and he bounds with equal vigor and agility. He is, likewise, more crafty, conceals himself with greater address, 218 THE ANIMAL WORLD. and derives superior resources from his instincts. Though he leaves behind him a stronger scent than the stag, which increases the ardor of the dogs, he knows how to evade their pursuit, by the rapidity with which he commences his flight, and by numerous doublings. He delays not his arts of defense till his strength begins to fail him ; for he no sooner perceives that the efforts of a rapid flight have been unsuccess- ful, than he repeatedly returns upon his former steps; and after confounding, by these opposite motions, the direction he has taken, after intermixing the pres- ent with the past emanations of his body, he, by a great bound, rises from the earth, and, retiring to a side, lies down flat upon his belly. In this immov- able situation, he often allows the whole pack of his deceived enemies to pass very near him. The roe- deer differs from the stag in disposition, manners, and in almost every natural habit. Instead of associating in herds, they live in separate families. The two par- ents and the young go together, and never mingle with strangers. When threatened with danger, the mother hides her young in a close thicket; and so strong is her parental affection, that, in order to preserve them from destruction, she presents herself to be chased. 4. Hares form seats, or nests, on the surface of the ground, where they watch, with the most vigilant attention, the approach of any danger. In order to deceive, they conceal themselves between clods of the same color with their own hair. When pursued, they first run with rapidity, and then double or return upon their former steps. From the place of starting, the females run not so far as the males; but they double THE ARTIFICES OP ANIMALS. 219 more frequently. Hares hunted in the place where they are brought forth, seldom remove to a great dis- tance from it, but return to their farm; and when chased two days successively, on the second day they perform the same doublings they had practiced the day before. When hares run straight out to a great distance, it is a proof that they are strangers. 5. The fox has, in all ages and nations, been cele- brated for craftiness and address. Acute and circum- spect, sagacious and prudent, he diversifies his con- duct, and always reserves some art for unforeseen accidents. Though nimbler than the wolf, he trusts not entirely to the swiftness of his course. He knows how to insure safety by providing himself with an asylum, to which he retires when danger appears. He is not a vagabond, but lives in a settled habitation, and in a domestic state. The choice of situation, the art of making and rendering a house commodious, and of concealing the avenues which lead to it, imply a superior degree of sentiment and reflection. The fox possesses these, qualities, and employs them with dex- terity and advantage. He takes up his abode on the border of a wood, and in the neighborhood of cottages. Here he listens to the crowing of the cocks and the noise of the poultry. He scents them at a distance. He chooses his time with great judgment and discre- tion. He conceals both his route and his design. He moves forward with caution, sometimes even trailing his body, and seldom makes a fruitless expedition. "When he leaps the wall, or gets in underneath it, he ravages the courtyard, puts all the fowls to death, and then retires quietly with his prey, which he either 220 THE ANIMAL WORLD. conceals under the herbage, or carries off to his ken- nel. The young hares he hunts in the plains, seizes old ones in their seats, digs out the rabbits in the warrens, finds out the nests of partridges, quails, etc., seizes the mothers on the eggs, and destroys a pro- digious number of game. Dogs of all kinds spon- taneously hunt him. When pursued, he runs to his hole; and it is not uncommon to send in terriers to detain him till the hunters remove the earth above, and either kill or seize him alive. 6. The most certain method, however, of destroy- ing a fox is to begin with shutting up the hole, to station a man with a gun near the entrance, and then to search about with the dogs. "When they fall in with him, he immediately makes for his hole. But, when he comes up to it, he is met with a discharge from the gun. If the shot misses him, he flies off at full speed, takes a wide circuit, and returns to the hole, where he is fired upon a second time; but, when he discovers that the entrance is shut, he darts away straight for- ward, with the intention of never revisiting his former habitation. He is next pursued by the hounds, whom he seldom fails to fatigue; because, with much cun- ning, he passes through the thickest part of the forest, or places of the most difficult access, where the dogs are hardly able to follow him; and, when he takes to the plains, he runs straight out, without either stop- ping or doubling. But the most effectual way of destroying foxes is to lay snares baited with live pigeons, fowls, etc. The fox is an exceedingly vora- cious animal. Besides all kinds of flesh and fish, he devours, with equal avidity, eggs, milk, cheese, fruits, THE ARTIFICES OF ANIMALS. 221 and particularly grapes. He is so extremely fond of honey that he attacks the nests of wild bees. They at first put him to flight by numberless stings; but he retires for the sole purpose of rolling himself on the ground, and of crushing the bees. He returns to the charge so often that he obliges them to abandon the hive, which he soon uncovers, and devours both the honey and the wax. 7. Birds have such an antipathy against him that they no sooner perceive him than they send forth shrill cries to advertise their neighbors of the enemy's approach. The jays and blackbirds, in particular, follow him from tree to tree, sometimes two or three hundred paces, often repeating the watch-cries. The Count de Buffon kept two young foxes, which, when at liberty, attacked the poultry; but, after they were chained, they never attempted to touch a single fowl. A living hen was then placed near them for whole nights; and, though destitute of victuals for many hours, in spite of hunger and opportunity, they never forgot that they were chained, and gave the hen no disturbance. 8. With regard to birds, their artifices are not less numerous nor less surprising than those of quad- rupeds. The eagle and hawk kinds are remarkable for the sharpness of their sight, and the arts they em- ploy in catching their prey. Their movements are rapid or slow, according to their intentions, and the situation of the animals they wish to devour. Ra- pacious birds uniformly endeavor to rise higher in the air than their prey, that they may have an oppor- tunity of darting forcibly down upon it with their 222 THE ANIMAL WOELD. pounces. To counteract these artifices, Nature has endowed the smaller and more innocent species of birds with many arts of defense. When a hawk ap- pears, the small birds, if they find it convenient, con- ceal themselves in hedges or brushwood. When de- prived of this opportunity, they often, in great num- bers, seem to follow the hawk, and to expose them- selves unnecessarily to danger, while in fact, by their numbers, their perpetual changes of direction, and their uniform endeavors to rise above him, they per- plex him to such a degree that he is unable to fix upon a single object; and, after exerting all his art and address, he is frequently obliged to relinquish the pursuit. When in the extremity of danger, and after employing every other artifice in vain, small birds have been often known to fly to men for protection. This is a plain indication that these animals, though they in general avoid the human race, are by no means so much afraid of man as of rapacious birds. 9. Of the economy of the inhabitants of the water our knowledge is rather limited. But, as the ocean exhibits a perpetual and general scene of attack and defense, the arts of assault and of evasion must, of course, be exceedingly various. For the preserva- tion of some species of fishes, Nature has armed them with strong and sharp pikes. Others, as the perch kind, are defended by strong, bony rays in their fins. Others, as the univalve shell-fish, retire into their shells upon the approach of danger. The bivalves and multivalves, when attacked, instantly shut their shells, which, in* general, is a sufficient protection to them. THE ARTIFICES OF ANIMALS. 223 Some univalves, as the limpet kind, attach themselves so firmly, by excluding the air, to rocks and stones, that, unless quickly surprised, no force inferior to that of breaking the shell can remove them. Several fishes, and particularly the salmon kind, when about to generate, leave the ocean, ascend the rivers, de- posit their eggs in the sand, and, after making a proper nest for their future progeny, return to the ocean from whence they came. Others, as the her- ring kind, though they seldom go up rivers, assemble in myriads from all quarters, and approach the shores, or ascend arms of the sea, for the purpose of continu- ing the species. When that operation is performed, they leave the coasts, and disperse in the ocean, till the same instinctive impulse forces them to observe similar conduct the next season. 10. The insect tribes, though comparatively di- minutive, are not deficient in artifice and address. With much art the spider spins his web. It serves him the double purpose of a habitation, and of a ma- chine for catching his food. With incredible patience and perseverance, he lies in the center of his web for days, and sometimes for weeks, before an ill-fated fly happens to be entangled. One species of spider, which is small, of a blackish color, and frequents cottages or outhouses, I have known to live, during the whole winter months, almost without the possibility of re- ceiving any nourishment ; for, during that period, not a fly of any kind could be discovered in the apart- ment. If they had been in a torpid state, like some other animals, the wonder of their surviving the want of food so long would not have been so great. But 224 THE ANIMAL WOKLD. in the severest weather, and through the whole course of the winter, they were perfectly active and lively. Neither did they seem to be in the least emaciated. William Smellie. " The Philosophy of Natural History." THE HOUSEKEEPER The frugal snail, with forecast of repose, Carries 'his house with him where'er he goes; Peeps out, — and if there comes a shower of rain, Retreats to his small domicile again. Touch but a tip of him, a horn, — 'tis well, — He curls up in his sanctuary shell. He's his own landlord, his own tenant; stay Long as he will, he dreads no Quarter Day. Himself he boards and lodges; both invites And feasts himself; sleeps with himself o' nights. He spares the upholsterer trouble to procure Chattels; himself is his own furniture, And his sole riches. Wheresoe'er he roam, — Knock when you will, — he's sure to be at home. Charles Lamb. THE TASK OF CLASSIFICATION. 225 THE TASK OF CLASSIFICATION. 1. I was one day talking with Professor Owen in the Hunterian Museum, when a gentleman ap- proached with a request to be informed respecting the nature of a curious fossil which had been dug up by one of his workmen. As he drew the fossil from a small bag, and was about to hand it for examina- tion, Owen quietly remarked, " That is the third molar of the under jaw of an extinct species of rhi- noceros." The astonishment of the gentleman at this precise and confident description of the fossil, before even it had quitted his hands, was doubtless very great. I know that mine was, until the reflec- tion occurred that if some one, little acquainted with editions, had drawn a volume from his pocket, declar- ing he had found it in an old chest, any bibliophile would have been able to say at a glance, " That is an Elzevir; " or, " That is one of the Tauchnitz classics, stereotyped at Leipzig." Owen is as familiar with the aspect of the teeth of animals, living and extinct, as a student is with the aspect of editions. Yet, be- fore that knowledge could have been acquired, before he could say thus confidently that the tooth belonged to an extinct species of rhinoceros, the united labors of thousands of diligent inquirers must have been directed to the classification of animals. How could he know that the rhinoceros was of that particular species rather than another? and what is meant by species? To trace the history of this confidence would 16 226 THE ANIMAL WORLD. be to tell the long story of zoological investigation; a story too long for narration here, though we may pause a while to consider its difficulties. 2. To make a classical catalogue of the books in the British Museum would be a gigantic task; but imagine what that task would be if all the title-pages and other external indications were destroyed! The first attempts would necessarily be of a rough ap- proximate kind, merely endeavoring to make a sort of provisional order amid the chaos, after which suc- ceeding labors might introduce better and better ar- rangements. The books might first be grouped ac- cording to size; but, having got them together, it would soon be discovered that size was no indication of their contents: quarto poems and duodecimo his- tories, octavo grammars and folio dictionaries, would immediately give warning that some other arrange- ment was needed. Nor would it be better to sepa- rate the books according to the languages in which they were written. The presence or absence of " illus- trations " would furnish no better guide, while the bindings would soon be found to follow no rule. In- deed, one by one, all the external characters would prove unsatisfactory, and the laborers would finally have to decide upon some internal characters. Hav- ing read enough of each book to ascertain whether it was poetry or prose — and, if poetry, whether dra- matic, epic, lyric, or satiric; and if prose, whether his- tory, philosophy, theology, philology, science, fic- tion, or essay— a rough classification could be made; but even then there would be many difficulties, such as where to place a work on the philosophy of history THE TASK OF CLASSIFICATION. 227 — or the history of science — or theology under the guise of science — or essays on very different sub- jects, while some works would defy classification. 3. Gigantic as this labor would be, it would be trifling compared with the labor of classifying all the animals now living (not to mention extinct species), so that the place of any one might be securely and rapidly determined; yet the persistent zeal and sa- gacity of zoologists have done for the animal king- dom what has not yet been done for the library of the Museum, although the titles of the books are not absent. It has been done by patient reading of the contents — by anatomical investigation of the internal structure of animals. Except on a basis of compara- tive anatomy, there could have been no better a classification of animals than a classification of books according to size, language, binding, etc. An un- scientific Pliny might group animals according to their habitat; but when it was known that whales, though living in the water and swimming like fishes, were in reality constructed like air-breathing quadru- peds — when it was known that animals differing so widely as bees, birds, bats, and flying squirrels, or as otters, seals and cuttlefish, lived together in the same element, it became obvious that such a principle of arrangement could lead to no practical result. Nor would it suffice to class animals according to their modes of feeding, since in all classes there are sam- ples of each mode. Equally unsatisfactory would be external form — the seal and the whale resembling fishes, the worm resembling the eel, and the eel the serpent. 228 THE ANIMAL WORLD. 4. Two things were necessary: first, that the structure of various animals should be minutely studied and described — which is equivalent to read- ing the books to be classified; and, secondly, that some artificial method should be devised of so ar- ranging the immense mass of details as to enable them to be remembered, and also to enable fresh discoveries readily to find a place in the system. We may be perfectly familiar with the contents of a book, yet wholly at a loss where to place it. If we have to catalogue Hegel's " Philosophy of History," for ex- ample, it becomes a difficult question whether to place it under the rubric of philosophy, or under that of history. To decide this point, we must have some system of classification. 5. In the attempts to construct a system, natural- ists are commonly said to have followed two methods, the artificial and the natural. The artificial method seizes some one prominent characteristic, and groups all the individuals together which agree in this one respect. In Botany the artificial method classes plants according to the organs of reproduction; but this has been found so very imperfect that it has been aban- doned, and the natural method has been substituted, according to which the whole structure of the plant determines its place. If flying were taken as the arti- ficial basis for the grouping of some animals, we should find insects and birds, bats and flying squirrels grouped together; but the natural method taking into consideration not one character, buf*all the essential characters, finds that insects, birds, and bats differ pro- foundly in their organization: the insect has wings, THE TASK OP CLASSIFICATION. 229 but its wings are not formed like those of the bird, nor are those of the bird formed like those of the bat. The insect does not breathe by lungs, like the bird and the bat; and the bird, although it has many points in common with the bat, does not, like it, suckle its young; and thus we may run over the characters of each organization, and find that the three animals belong to widely different groups. 6. It is 'to Linnasus that we are indebted for the most ingenious and comprehensive of the many schemes invented for the cataloguing of animal forms, and modern attempts at classification are only im- provements on the plan he laid down. First we may notice his admirable invention of the double names. It had been the custom to designate plants and animals according to some name common to a large group, to which was added a description more or less char- acteristic. An idea may be formed of the necessity of a reform by conceiving what a laborious and un- certain task it would be if our friends spoke to us of having seen a dog in the garden, and on our asking what kind of a dog, instead of their saying " a terrier, a bull-terrier, or a Skye-terrier," they were to attempt a description of the dog. Something of this kind was the labor of understanding the nature of an animal from the vague description of it given by naturalists. Linnaeus rebaptized the whole animal kingdom upon one intelligible principle. He continued to employ the name co mmon to each group, such as that of Felis for the cats, wrnch became the generic name; and in lieu of the description which was given of each dif- ferent kind to indicate that it was a lion, a tiger, a 230 THB ANIMAL WORLD. leopard, or a domestic cat, he affixed a specific name: thus the animal bearing the description of a lion be- came Felis leo; the tiger, Felis tigris; the leopard, Felis leopardus; and our domestic friend, Felis catus. These double names, as Vogt remarks, are like the Christian- and sur-names by which we distinguish the various members of one family ; and instead of speak- ing of Tomkinson with the flabby face and Tomkin- son with the square forehead, we simply say John and William Tomkinson. 7. Linnaeus did more than this. He not only fixed definite conceptions of species and genera, but introduced those of orders and classes. Cuvier added families to genera, and sub-kingdoms to classes. Thus a scheme was elaborated by which the whole animal kingdom was arranged in subordinate groups: the sub-kingdoms were divided into classes, the classes into orders, the orders into families, the families into gen- era, the genera into species, and the species, into varie- ties. The guiding principle of anatomical resem- blance determined each of these divisions. Those largest groups, which resemble each other only in having what is called the typical character in common, are brought together under the first head. Thus all the groups which agree in possessing a backbone and internal skeleton, although they differ widely in form, structure, and habitat, do nevertheless resemble each other more than they resemble the groups which have no backbone. This great division having been formed, it is seen to arrange itself in very obvious minor divisions or classes — the mammalia, - birds, reptiles, and fishes. All mammals resemble each other more THE TASK OF CLASSIFICATION. 231 than they resemble -birds; all reptiles resemble each other more than they resemble fishes (in spite of the superficial resemblance between serpents and eels or lampreys). Each class, again, falls into the minor groups of orders, and on the same principles — the monkeys being obviously distinguished from rodents, and the carnivora from the ruminating animals; and so of the rest. In each order there are generally fami- lies, and the families fall into genera, which differ from each other only in fewer and less important characters. The genera include groups which have still fewer differences, and are called species; and these, again, include groups which have only minute and unimportant differences of color, size, and the like, and are called sub-species, or varieties. 8. Whoever looks at the immensity of the animal kingdom, and observes how intelligibly and systemat- ically it is arranged in these various divisions, will admit that, however imperfect, the scheme is a mag- nificent product of human ingenuity and labor. It is not an arbitrary arrangement, like the grouping of the stars in constellations; it expresses, though obscurely, the real order of Nature. All true classification should be to forms- what laws are to phenomena; the one reducing varieties to systematic order, as the other reduces phenomena to their relation of sequence. Now if it be true that the classification expresses the real order of Nature, and not simply the order which we may find convenient, there will be something more than mere resemblance indicated in the various groups; or, rather let me say, this resemblance itself is the consequence of some community in the things 232 THE ANIMAL WORLD. compared, and will therefore be the mark of some deeper cause. What is this cause? Mr. Darwin holds that " propinquity of descent — the only known cause of the similarity of organic beings — is the bond, hidden as it is by various degrees of modification, which is partially revealed to us by our classifica- tions " — that the characters which naturalists con- sider as showing true affinity between any two or more species are those which have been inherited from a common parent, and in so far all true classification is genealogical ; that community of descent is the hidden bond which naturalists have been unconsciously seek- ing, and not some unknown plan of creation, or the enunciation of general propositions, and the mere putting together and separating objects more or less alike. George Henry Lewes, " Studies of Animal Life." THE DISTKIBUTION OF ANIMALS. 1. Animals are distributed over the globe ac- cording to definite laws, and with remarkable regular- ity. Each of the three great provinces, Earth, Air, and Water, as also every continent, contains repre- sentatives of all the classes; but the various classes are unequally represented. Every great climatal region contains some species not found elsewhere, to the exclusion of some other forms. Every grand division of the globe, whether of land or sea, each THE DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMALS. 233 zone of climate and altitude, has its own fauna. And, in spite of the many cases tending to disperse animals beyond their natural limits, each country preserves its peculiar zoological physiognomy. 2. The space occupied by the different groups of animals is inversely as the size of the individuals. Compare the coral and elephant. Fauna now occu- pying a separate area is closely allied to the fauna which existed in geologic times. Thus, Australia has always been the home of Marsupials, and South America of Edentates. It is a general rule that groups of distinct species are circumscribed within definite, and often narrow, limits. Man is the only cosmo- politan; yet even he comprises several marked races, whose distribution corresponds with the great zoo- logical regions. The natives of Australia are as gro- tesque as the animals. Certain brutes likewise have a great range: thus, the puma ranges from Canada to Patagonia ; the musk-rat, from the Arctic Ocean to Florida; the ermine, from Behring Strait to the Himalayas; and the hippopotamus, from the Mle and Niger to the Orange River. Frequently species of the same genus, living side by side, are widely differ- ent, while there is a close resemblance between forms which are antipodes. The mud-eel of South Carolina and axolotl of Mexico have their connecting links in Japan and Austria. The American tapir has its mate in Sumatra; the llama is related to the camel, and the opossum to the kangaroo. 3. The chief causes modifying distribution are temperature, topography, ocean and wind currents, humidity, and light. To these may be added the 234 THE ANIMAL WORLD. fact that animals are ever intruding on each other's spheres of existence. High mountain-ranges, wide deserts, and cold currents in the ocean are impassable barriers to the migrations of most species. Thus, river-fish on opposite sides of the Andes differ widely, and the cold Peruvian current prevents the growth of coral at the Galapagos Islands. So a broad river, like the Amazon, or a deep, narrow channel in the sea, is an effectual barrier to some tribes. Thus, Borneo belongs to the Indian region, while Celebes, though but a few miles distant, is Australian in its life. The faunas of North America, on the east coast, west coast, and the open plains between, are very different. Animals dwelling at high elevations re- semble those of colder latitudes. The same species of insects are found on Mount Washington, and in Labrador and Greenland. The range does not de- pend upon the powers of locomotion. The oyster extends from Halifax to Charleston, and the snapping- turtle from Canada to the equator; while many quad- rupeds and birds have narrow habitats. The distri- bution of any group is qualified by the nature of the food. Carnivores have a wider range than herbivores. Life diminishes as we depart from the equator, north or south, and likewise as we descend or ascend from the level of the sea. 4. The zones of geography have been divided by zoologists into narrower provinces. Five vertical regions in the sea have been recognized : the Littoral, extending between tide-marks; -the Laminarian, from low water to fifteen fathoms; the Coralline, from fif- teen to twenty fathoms; the deep-sea Coral, from THE DISTRIBUTION OP ANIMALS. 235 fifty to one hundred fathoms; and the Bathybian, from one hundred fathoms down. Every marine spe- cies has its own limits of depth. It would be quite as difficult, said Agassiz, for a fish or a mollusk to cross from the coast of Europe to the coast of America as for a reindeer to pass from the Arctic to the Antarctic regions across the torrid zone. Marine animals con- gregate mainly along the coasts of continents and on soundings. The meeting-place of two maritime cur- rents of different temperatures, as on the Banks of Newfoundland, favors the development of a great diversity of fishes. Every great province of the ocean contains some representatives of all the sub-kingdoms. . Deep-sea life is diversified, though comparatively sparse. Examples of all the five invertebrate divi- sions were found in the Bay of Biscay, at the depth of 2,435 fathoms. Distribution in the sea is influenced by the temperature and composition of the water, and the character of the bottom. The depth acts in- directly by modifying the temperature. Northern animals approach nearer to the equator in the sea than on the land, on account of cold currents. The heavy aquatic mammals, as whales, walruses, seals, and porpoises, are mainly polar. 5. Life in. the polar regions is characterized by- great uniformity, the species being few in number, though the number of individuals is immense. The same animals inhabit the Arctic portions of the three continents; while the Antarctic ends of the conti- nents, Australia, Cape- of Good Hope, and Cape Horn exhibit strong contrasts. Those three conti- nental peninsulas are, zoologically, separate worlds. 236 THE ANIMAL WOULD. In fact, the whole southern hemisphere is peculiar. Its fauna is antique. Australia possesses a strange mixture of the old and new. South America, with newer mammals, has older reptiles; while Africa has a rich vertebrate life, with a striking uniformity in its distribution. In the tropics, diversity is the law. Life is more varied and crowded than elsewhere, and attains its highest development. The New- World fauna is old-fashioned, and inferior in rank and size, compared with those of the eastern continents. 6. As a rule, the more isolated a region, the greater the variety. Oceanic islands have compara- tively few species, but a large proportion of endemic or peculiar forms. Batrachians are generally absent, and there are no indigenous terrestrial mammals. The productions are related to those of the nearest continent. When an island, as Britain, is separated from the main-land by a shallow channel, the mam- malian life is the same on both sides. Protozoans, Gcelenterates, and Echinoderms are limited to the waters, and nearly all are marine. Sponges are most- ly obtained from the Grecian Archipelago and the Ba- hamas. Corals abound throughout the Indian Ocean and Polynesia, east coast of Africa, Red Sea and Persian Gulf, West Indies and around Florida. True crinoids are found only in the Caribbean Sea and on the coast of Norway. The other Echinoderms abound in almost' every sea, the star-fishes chiefly along the shore, the sea-urchins in the Laminarian zone, and the sea-slugs around coral-reefs. 7. Mollusks have a world-wide distribution over land and sea. The land forms are restricted by cli- THE DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMALS. 237 mate and food, the marine by shallows or depths, by cold currents, by a sandy, gravelly or mud bottom. Living Brachiopods, though few in number, occur in tropical, temperate, and Arctic seas, and from the shore to the greatest depths. The rest of the bivalves are also found on every coast and in every climate, as well as in rivers and lakes, but do not flourish at the depth of much more than two hundred fathoms. The fresh-water mussels are more numerous in the United States than in Europe, and west of the Alle- ghanies than east. The sea-shells along the Pacific coast of America are unlike those of the Atlantic, and are arranged in five distinct groups — Aleutian, Californian, Panamic, Peruvian, and Magellanic. On the Atlantic coast, Cape Cod and Cape Hatteras separate distinct provinces. The Old World and America have no species in common, except a few in the extreme north. 8. The limits of insects are determined by tem- perature and vegetation, by oceans and mountains. There is an insect-fauna for each continent, and zone, and altitude. The insects near the snow-line on the sides of mountains in the temperate region are simi- lar to those in polar lands. The insects on our Pacific slope resemble those of Europe, while those near the Atlantic coast are more like those of Asia. Not half a dozen insects live in the sea. 9. The distribution of fishes is bounded by nar- rower limits than that of other animals. A few tribes may be called cosmopolitan, as the sharks and her- rings; but the, species are local. Size does not appear to bear any relation to latitude. The marine forms 238 THE ANIMAL WORLD. are three times as numerous as the fresh-water. The migratory fishes of the northern hemisphere pass to a more southern region in the spring, while birds mi- grate in the autumn. 10. Living reptiles form but a fragment of the immense number which prevailed in the Middle Ages of Geology. Being less under the influence of man, they have not been forced from their original habi- tats. None are Arctic. America is the most favored spot for frogs and salamanders, and India for snakes. Australia has no batrachians, and two-thirds of its snakes are venomous. In the United States only 22 out of 176 are venomous. Frogs, snakes, and lizards occur at elevations of over 15,000 feet. Crocodiles, and most lizards and turtles, are tropical. 11. Swimming birds, which constitute about one- fourteenth of the entire class, form one-half of the whole number in Greenland. As we approach the tropics, the variety and number of land birds increase. Those of the torrid zone are noted for their brilliant plumage, and the temperate forms for their more sober hues, but sweeter voices. India and South America are the richest regions. Birds with rudi- mentary wings, as penguins and ostriches, prevail in the southern hemisphere. Hummers, tanagers, ori- oles, and toucans are restricted to the New World. Parrots are found in every continent, except Europe; and woodpeckers occur everywhere, save in Aus- tralia. 12. The vast majority of mammals are terrestrial; but cetaceans and seals take to the sea, otters and beavers delight in lakes and rivers, and moles are THE TIGER. 239 subterranean. As of birds, the aquatic species abound in the polar regions. Marsupials inhabit two widely separated areas — America and Australia. In the lat- ter continent, they constitute three-fourths of the fauna; while edentates, ruminants, horses, elephants, hogs, squirrels, moles, carnivores, monkeys, and apes are wanting. Excepting a few species in South Africa and South Asia, edentates are confined to tropical South America. The equine family is indigenous to South and East Africa and Southern Asia. In North America, rodents form about one-half the number of mammals; they are entirely wanting in Madagascar. Ruminants are sparingly represented in America. Carnivores flourish in every zone and continent. The prehensile-tailed monkeys are strictly South Ameri- can; while the anthropoid apes belong to the west coast of Africa, and to Borneo and Sumatra. Both monkeys and apes are most abundant near the equa- tor; in fact, their range is limited by the distribution of palms. James Orton, " Comparative Zoology." THE TIGEE. Tigek! Tiger! burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 240 THE ANTMAL WORLD. 2. In what distant deeps or skies Burned the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? 3. And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thine heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? 4. What the hammer, what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? 5. When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did He, who made the Lamb, make thee! 6. Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? William Blake. the END.