The Human Side of Animals Part 10

His home is underground, usually under an old wall, near a rock fence, or under a tree; his burrow is so long and winding that he can easily escape almost any enemy, except the weasel, which is not easily outwitted. His nursery and living-room is quite pretentious, but his lateral storeroom is a marvel! He is a miser indeed, and stores up every acorn and nut he can find, even many times more than he can ever eat.

His variety of food is almost unending--he loves buckwheat, beaked nuts, pecans, various kinds of gra.s.s seeds, and Indian corn. In carrying food to his home he first fills his pouches to overflowing and then takes another nut in his mouth; he thus reminds the cla.s.sical reader of Alemaeon in the treasury of Croesus.

The hedgehog is a regular Solomon in her methods of collecting fruit.

Plutarch had a very high opinion of her. He says that when grapes are ripe, the mother hedgehog goes under the vines and shakes them until some of the grapes fall; she then literally rolls over them until many are attached to her spines, and marches back to her babies in the cave. "One day," says Plutarch, "when we were all together, we had the chance of seeing this with our own eyes--it looked as if a bunch of grapes was shuffling along the ground, so thickly covered was the animal with its booty."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

THE SKUNK MOTHER TRIES TO KEEP ON HAND A GOOD SUPPLY OF SUCH DELICACIES AS FROGS AND TOADS, SO THAT HER YOUNG MAY NEVER GO HUNGRY.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

THE PORCUPINE AND THE HEDGEHOG HAVE A UNIQUE METHOD OF COLLECTING FOOD FOR THEIR YOUNG. AFTER SHAKING DOWN BERRIES OR GRAPES, THEY ROLL IN THEM, THEN HURRY HOME WITH THE FOOD ATTACHED TO THEIR QUILLS.]

Alpine mice not only form comfortable winter homes in the earth, but combine into small winter colonies, each colony numbering about ten to twelve inhabitants, all of whom are under the direction of a leader.

Thus organised, they proceed to lay up provisions for the winter. They use their mouths as scythes and their paws as rotary machines. Surely their wisdom and foresight call forth our greatest admiration. The jerboas or jumping mice are not only skilled athletes in the art of jumping, but they are gifted food conservers and producers as well. They lay up complete storehouses of food, which they do not consume altogether as their appet.i.te may direct; but conserve it carefully for the times when nothing can be obtained from the fields. Then, and then only, do they open the closed magazines. Such acts of intelligence cannot be recorded under the head of "instinct"! They demonstrate the ability to plan for the future, and meet all emergencies.

Certain food h.o.a.rders and robbers, like the vole, are so very greedy and become such misers that they often threaten total destruction to large areas of grain. They were so plentiful in the cla.s.sic land of Thessaly, the vale of Tempe, and the Land of Olympus that the old Greeks established what they called an Apollo Smintheus, the Mouse-destroying G.o.d. In the early spring, according to Professor Loeffler, who has made a special study of their invasions, they begin to come down from their homes in the hills to the cultivated fields. They seem to follow regular roads, and often travel along the railroad embankment. They travel very slowly, and when at home live somewhat on the order of prairie dogs, that is, in underground dwellings with numerous winding pa.s.sages and tunnels.

These wise little food conservers are nocturnal in habit, and are rarely seen except by careful observers. When they once determine to rob a field, they do it with amazing rapidity and completeness. In a single night hordes of these workers go into a cornfield and by daylight not a stalk of corn remains. The field is as empty as if a cyclone had struck it. They work with great system, and while a part of their number cut the stalks down, others cut it up into movable sizes, while still others superintend its systematic removal. Storehouses are usually provided before the grain is even cut. They make long voyages throughout a country, storing away tons of grain and food in these various granaries. To these they come for supplies whenever necessary. All poverty-stricken voles are also fed from these storehouses, since it is the product of the community as a whole. Aristotle wrote at length about their wise and destructive ways.

Not the least ingenious of food conservers are the hamsters, members of the great rodent family. They have made their dwellings most comfortable and even luxurious in arrangement and furnis.h.i.+ngs. Like wealthy farmers, they are not satisfied with comfortable dwellings only, but they too must have s.p.a.cious barns adjoining their homes. Their home, or burrow proper, consists of two openings: one, which is used as an entrance, and which sinks vertically into the ground; the other, which is used as an exit, with a winding slope. The central room is beautifully carpeted with straw, moss, and dry leaves, which makes it a very pleasant living-room and bedroom. A third small winding tunnel leads from this room to the barns and storehouse. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. Hamster and the children have no need to go forth in the cold and wet weather to seek food--they can remain at home perfectly protected and well-fed. They are very liberal, and in case of need or poverty, will always share their food with their neighbours.

I once found the nest of a harvest mouse, which was woven of plaited blades of straw of the oats and wheat. It was perfectly round, with the aperture so ingeniously closed that I could scarcely tell to what part of the nest it belonged. It was as round as a marble and would actually roll when placed on a table, although within its walls were six tiny mice, naked and blind. As they increased in size day by day, the elastic wall of their small home expanded, and thus served their need until such time as they were old enough to live independent of this specially provided shelter.

There is a larger animal, known as a "rat-hare" or the harvest rat, which gathers piles of hay for winter use, sometimes to the height of six or eight feet in diameter. They begin harvesting in the early part of August, and after having cut the gra.s.s, they carefully spread it out to dry before placing it in their barns. These barns are usually located in holes or crevices of mountains. They are found in immense numbers in the Altai Mountains.

The California woodrat is not only a food h.o.a.rder but a notable thief and robber. A nest was found that was a veritable tool chest and p.a.w.n shop! It contained fourteen knives, three forks, six small spoons, one large soup spoon, twenty-seven large nails, hundreds of small tacks, two butcher knives, three pairs of eye-gla.s.ses, one purse, one string of beads, one rubber ball, two small cakes of soap, one string of red peppers, several boxes of matches, with numerous small b.u.t.tons, needles, and pins. Apparently these woodrats are as ambitious for unnecessary and useless possessions as is man himself. Their big storeroom did, however, contain a larder in which they had some of their favourite food, such as seeds and nuts.

Some animals have learned not only to acquire, but also to defend and protect, all their property. We see in the human world how strong is the impulse to collect, and children will invariably collect anything from pebbles to peach-pits, if they see other children doing the same thing.

Most animals that do not h.o.a.rd are those that forage for food, or fish, and rarely have permanent homes. The orang-outangs, for example, are regular gipsies, and go from place to place wherever food is plentiful.

They take life easy, and sometimes during their journeys select a suitable spot near the seash.o.r.e and have a real picnic. A scout has already discovered the right spot for getting big oysters, of which they are exceedingly fond, and when they have a.s.sembled, certain ones proceed to dig up the oysters, which they hand to others on the sh.o.r.e and they, in turn, place them on big stones, and proceed to open them for the feast. If one of the fishermen-monkeys discovers an oyster open, he will not insert his hand to remove the meat until first placing a stone between the valves. This a.s.sures him protection against the closing of the oyster. In most cases, they open the oysters by first placing them on stones and then using another stone as a hammer. These facts are vouched for by no less authorities than Gamelli Carreri, Dampier, and Wafer.

It is only a matter of time until many animals will understand the use of man-made tools. Some have already learned to use such tools as they make and shape for themselves. Monkeys and apes are already gifted in this art. Of course, under domestication, they use knives, forks, spoons, and dishes not so much from intelligence as from imitation.

This, however, might be said of many human beings. I have seen an immense chimpanzee sit in a chair, set his own dinner table, use his knife and fork correctly when eating, and take great delight in the use of his napkin, which he always carefully refolded when his meal was over.

The human-like qualities of apes and monkeys, however, need scarcely be told. They are so very similar to man in most ways that there are few things they cannot do. Aelian tells of an ape which learned to drive horses skilfully. He knew just when and how to use the whip, how much slack to allow in the reins, and when to tighten them! They greatly resent any intrusion on their hunting-grounds, and make use of sticks and clubs to protect them. The chief is always armed with a club, and is thoroughly skilled in the use of it. It sometimes happens that an elephant will come to the same tree to seek food that apes frequent, and although they have no enmity towards each other, they like the same kind of food. As soon as the ape sees the elephant reaching his trunk among the branches, he immediately slips near the elephant, and when an opportunity presents itself, he whacks him over the trunk with his club!

The infuriated elephant runs away in terror!

A story is told of a party of foraging apes who went into a cornfield with the purpose of robbing it, and discovered two men. They immediately rushed upon them and attempted to poke their eyes out with sticks and would have succeeded but for the intervention of two other men who chanced to be near. The extreme cleverness of apes in applying their reason and judgment is shown in Vosmaer's account of the female orang-outang, who tried to open the padlock of her chain with a small stick. She had seen her master open it with a key, and she exactly imitated the motion of his hands in the attempt.

Man shows a disposition to deny animals all traits and characteristics which are similar to his own. This reminds us of a remark that Cardinal Newman once made that men know less of animals than they do of angels.

Why should we show such foolish pride and delusion, and try to baffle one of G.o.d's great facts? When men attempt to extinguish the idea of animal intelligence and sentiment by referring to it as instinct, we are reminded of the desert ostrich, which buries its head in the sand and thinks it cannot be seen. We should proudly acknowledge the wonderful human-like methods of these food conservers of the animal world, and recognise in all this a guiding Providence who provides for and protects all his creatures, be they great or small.

XII

TOURISTS AND SIGHT-SEERS

_"Every night we must look, lest the down slope Between us and the woods turn suddenly To a grey onrush full of small green candles, The charging pack with eyes flaming for flesh.

And well for us then if there's no more mist Than the white panting of the wolfish hunger."_

The desire to travel and see the great world is by no means peculiar to the human race. It is found among animals to such a degree that groups of them will often leave their homes in one country and journey to another. These strange wanderl.u.s.t habits are noticed even by the casual observer, and no special insight is required to see that these wise creatures have their annual tours excellently arranged and marked out.

Their route is possibly as definitely arranged before starting, as is the route of a human traveller. They have their selected eating places arranged, know every danger spot and the enemies they are likely to encounter.

The members of these co-operative tours take life tickets, and each tour lasts about one year. One of the most unusual instances of such co-operation is that of the lemmings of the Scandinavian countries.

These are animals of the mouse tribe, which live in the mountainous districts. They live upon roots and gra.s.ses. They breed very rapidly. At certain times they go from the centre of Norway to the east and west, crossing valley, hill, and river in great ma.s.ses. Many are destroyed by birds and beasts of prey, but finally the survivors reach the Atlantic on the Gulf of Bothnia and, for some strange unknown reason, plunge in and die. Only enough remain from one season to another to propagate the species. It is an immense co-operative suicide society.

Rivers and valleys are sometimes effectual barriers. On the plains of the Amazon great numbers of animals are found on one side of the river only; these have not been able to cross to the other. On the north side of the Rio Negro are two varieties of monkeys, the _brachiurus conxion_ and the _jacchus bicolor_, which are unknown on the south side. Of course, water-loving animals, such as seals, whales, and porpoises are at home in the water and can swim for days without stopping. Quite a few animals can swim for a short distance, but comparatively few for long distances. In the early days in North America it was not uncommon for buffalo to swim across the Mississippi River. Rats and squirrels often migrate in great numbers. It oftentimes happens that Arctic animals travel from one place to another on floating ice. In the South American waters it is a common sight to see floating islands covered with plants and trees upon which there are live animals; and while these animals are likely to perish, they are oftentimes carried safely to land. Eagles have often been instrumental in bringing new species of animals to islands where they had previously been unknown, their purpose being to provide food for their own young. Some of these animals would escape and henceforth become citizens of their new habitation.

An interesting division of migrants is that of the casual travellers, like the men and women who always remain at home except when special business calls them away. Sudden climatic changes, or the scarcity of food, often cause stay-at-home animals to make tours into new territories. As a good instance, I might cite the case of three wolves, which I saw entering Jackson Park in Chicago, during very severe weather when Lake Michigan was frozen over. The morning papers stated that because of forest fires in Michigan, and the extreme cold, which not only made food scarce for the wild animals of Michigan, but froze the Lake, many of them had come across the ice into the great Chicago parks seeking food and shelter.

The subject of animal travel is full of interesting and difficult problems, and not the least interesting nor the least difficult is the question of just how they find their way to and from various places.

Many naturalists tell us that these animals are led by inherited instinct along the migration lines followed by their forefathers. But even if this were true, what made them originally follow such a course?

Wild horses when travelling always have a leader as well as several sentinels for each herd. By some unknown code this leader makes known his wishes and directs the movements of the herd. No human army could have greater order or more perfect obedience to commands; and under him there is absolute unity by means of which the carnivorous animals, such as the wolf, the jaguar, and the puma, are repelled. Wild deer invariably have a leader, and while we do not know how he obtains his position, nor how he directs his followers, we do know he is highly successful in his efforts.

No act in the animal world bespeaks more intelligence than that of placing sentinels, especially during a journey. Horses show striking skill and ingenuity in the choosing and placing of their sentinels. Any one who has been fortunate enough to have seen them travelling in the forests of South America, where the wild horses are gregarious, and travel in herds of five hundred to a thousand, has noticed that sentinels are always stationed around the herd. These animals are not well prepared for fighting, and experience has taught them that their greatest safety is in flight, and so, when they graze or sleep, sentinels are always on the look-out for enemies. If a man approaches, the sentinel at first walks toward him, as if to make sure what the enemy is, and what he desires, if the man goes nearer to the herd, the sentinel neighs in a most peculiar tone. Immediately the herd is aroused, and gallops away, not in confusion, but perfect order, as though its members were human soldiers.

The same is true of the white-legged peccaries, so plentiful in Guiana.

They congregate by the thousands, choose a leader whose position is always at the front, and travel for hundreds of miles through the great forests. If they come to a river, the leader halts, as if to make sure that all is well for crossing, then he plunges into the water and is followed by his immense army. The sureness of the leader would suggest that he has been over the same route many times before--perhaps this is why he has been chosen! If an enemy appears, or any form of danger is approached, they carry on an immense amount of chattering and proceed only when they have talked it out. Any hunter that should be foolish enough to attack them, unless he were already up a tree, would be torn to pieces with their terrible teeth and tusks. They are as bloodthirsty as the wild boars of the Black Forest of Germany, and will sometimes actually tear down a tree up which an enemy has escaped, that they may kill him.

The African apes have an interesting way of sending their sentinel to the top of an adjacent rock or tree, that he may look over the surrounding valleys and plantations before they go to plunder a garden or field. If he sees any danger, he utters a loud shriek, and the entire troop immediately runs away. The monkeys of Brazil post a guard while they sleep; the same is true of the chamois and other species of wild antelope.

A few years ago, many of the sheep in the northern part of Wales had become quite wild, and they usually grazed in parties of twelve to twenty, always having a sentinel so stationed as to command a prominent view of the surrounding territory. If any animal or person came near, he would give a peculiar hiss or whistle, repeating it two or three times, at which the whole herd would scamper away to places of safety.

One of the most striking facts about migration is its never-failing regularity and success. Most animals migrate at the recurrence of the breeding season. Of these, the great sea-turtle, which seeks the shallow water and deep sandy hills when ready to lay her eggs, is well known.

Notwithstanding the great risks that practically all travelling animals a.s.sume, they are successful as a whole in their travels, and many return to bear testimony to a successful trip even across continents and sometimes the ocean. They migrate, for a variety of reasons. When it is not for a more desirable climate, nor more food, nor even better breeding grounds, we must either believe it is because of the natural desire to travel, or frankly admit that we do not understand it.

The Icelandic mice have probably the most curious methods of travelling of all migratory animals. Dr. Henderson, an authority on Iceland, not only verifies the fact himself, but gives the names of many prominent investigators who have seen the mice crossing small rivers and streams on thin pieces of dry board, dragging them to the water, launching them, and then going aboard their little rafts. They then turn their heads to the centre, and their tails, which hang in the water, are used as paddles and rudders until they reach the destined sh.o.r.e.

Among travellers none are more famed than the camels. In their sphere and use they are supreme, and Nature has prepared them especially for travelling on the dry, hot, and barren deserts. They are truly the "s.h.i.+ps of the desert" for they travel on a sea of sand, and their pad-like feet, so poorly adapted for travel on moist soil, is admirably suited to the desert sands. They are capable of travelling many days without food or water, and are used extensively in the desert regions of the East not only as beasts of burden but for their milk, which is an important article of diet in those countries where the camel is at home.

Animals that do not migrate, especially those living in cold climates, change their clothing at regular intervals. Their hair or fur increases in thickness in winter. If we compare the Indian and African elephants of to-day, whose delicate thin hair is scarcely noticeable, with the great extinct mammoth, which had an enormous amount of woolly fur, we readily see the great difference in their clothing. Yet these animals are members of the same great family. The same difference may be noted with horses: the Arabian horse, for example, has short, glistening fur, while those of Iceland and Norway have very thick fur; the same is true of Northern and Southern sheep. Animals which live in temperate regions, put on much thicker coats in winter, and shed them as summer approaches.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

THE BLACK BEAR IS NOT ONE OF THE GREAT MIGRATING ANIMALS. THE THICKNESS OF HIS COAT MUST THEREFORE CHANGE WITH THE SEASONS.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _American Museum of Natural History, New York_

RABBITS SEEM TO HAVE A WELL-DEVISED SYSTEM IN THEIR ROAD-BUILDING, RUNNING THEIR PATHS IN AND OUT OF UNDERBRUSH IN A TRULY INGENIOUS MANNER.]

The love of their original homes is one of the most striking features of certain animal travellers. The fierce struggle for existence and the territory required for an animal's home largely determine the amount of effort they make to seize and hold certain possessions. A pair of wildcats, for example, require a comparatively small hunting ground. But this they will defend against invasion even to the point of death. There are many more evidences showing the animals' love of home, and that they also know the meaning of home-sickness.

Not a few animals have learned definitely to lay out and obtain recognition for the boundaries of their respective ranging-grounds. This is amply proven by their respect and recognition of rights of way.