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Read Ebook: The Industries of Animals by Houssay Fr D Ric
Font size: Background color: Text color: Add to tbrJar First Page Next PageEbook has 390 lines and 80594 words, and 8 pagesINTRODUCTION The naturalists of yesterday and the naturalists of to-day--Natural history and the natural sciences--The theory of Evolution--The chief industries of Man--The chief industries of Animals--Intelligence and instinct--Instinctive actions originate in reflective actions--The plan of study of the various industries. HUNTING--FISHING--WARS AND EXPEDITIONS The Carnivora more skilful hunters than the Herbivora--Different methods of hunting--Hunting in ambush--The baited ambush--Hunting in the dwelling or in the burrow--Coursing--Struggles that terminate the hunt--Hunting with projectiles--Particular circumstances put to profit--Methods for utilising the captured game--War and brigandage--Expeditions to acquire slaves--Wars of the ants. METHODS OF DEFENCE Flight--Feint--Resistance in common by social animals--Sentinels. PROVISIONS AND DOMESTIC ANIMALS Provisions laid up for a short period--Provisions laid up for a long period--Animals who construct barns--Physiological reserves--Stages between physiological reserves and provisions--Animals who submit food to special treatment in order to facilitate transport--Care bestowed on harvested provisions--Agricultural ants--Gardening ants--Domestic animals of ants--Degrees of civilisation in the same species of ants--Aphis-pens and paddocks--Slavery among ants. PROVISION FOR REARING THE YOUNG The preservation of the individual and the preservation of the species--Foods manufactured by the parents for their young--Species which obtain for their larvae foods manufactured by others--Carcasses of animals stored up--Provision of paralysed living animals--The cause of the paralysis--The sureness of instinct--Similar cases in which the specific instinct is less powerful and individual initiative greater--Genera less skilful in the art of paralysing victims. DWELLINGS Animals naturally provided with dwellings--Animals who increase their natural protection by the addition of foreign bodies--Animals who establish their home in the natural or artificial dwellings of others--Classification of artificial shelters--Hollowed dwellings--Rudimentary burrows--Carefully-disposed burrows--Burrows with barns adjoined--Dwellings hollowed out in wood--Woven dwellings--Rudiments of this industry--Dwellings formed of coarsely-entangled materials--Dwellings woven of flexible substances--Dwellings woven with greater art--The art of sewing among birds--Modifications of dwellings according to season and climate--Built dwellings--Paper nests--Gelatine nests--Constructions built of earth--Solitary masons--Masons working in association--Individual skill and reflection--Dwellings built of hard materials united by mortar--The dams of beavers. THE DEFENCE AND SANITATION OF DWELLINGS General precautions against possible danger--Separation of females while brooding--Hygienic measures of Bees--Prudence of Bees--Fortifications of Bees--Precautions against inquisitiveness--Lighting up the nests. CONCLUSION Degree of perfection in industry independent of zoological superiority--Mental faculties of the lower animals of like nature to Man's. INDEX THE INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS. INTRODUCTION. THE NATURALISTS OF YESTERDAY AND THE NATURALISTS OF TO-DAY--NATURAL HISTORY AND THE NATURAL SCIENCES--THE THEORY OF EVOLUTION--THE CHIEF INDUSTRIES OF MAN--THE CHIEF INDUSTRIES OF ANIMALS--INTELLIGENCE AND INSTINCT--INSTINCTIVE ACTIONS ORIGINATE IN REFLECTIVE ACTIONS--THE PLAN OF STUDY OF THE VARIOUS INDUSTRIES. Exterior forms have certainly changed, and the naturalist of yesterday makes upon us the impression of a legendary being. I refer to the person described in George Sand's romances, marching vigorously over hills and valleys in search of a rare insect, which he pricked with delight, or of a plant difficult to reach, which he triumphantly dried and fixed on a leaf of paper bearing the date of the discovery and the name of the locality. A herbarium became a sort of journal, recalling to its fortunate possessor all the wanderings of the happy chase, all the delightful sounds and sights of the country. Every naturalist concealed within him a lover of idylls or eclogues. Assuredly all the preliminary studies which resulted from these excursions were necessary; we owe gratitude to our predecessors, and we profit from their labours, sometimes regretting the loss of the picturesque fashion in which their researches were carried out. The naturalist of to-day usually lives more in the laboratory than in the country. Occasional expeditions to the coast or dredgings are the only links that attach him to nature; the scalpel and the microtome have replaced the collector's pins, and the magnifying glass gives place to the microscope. When the observer begins to pursue his studies in the laboratory he no longer cares to pass the threshold. He has still so much to learn concerning the most common creatures that it seems useless to him to waste his time in seeking those that are rarer, unless he takes into account the unquestionable pleasure of rambling through woods or along coasts;--but such a consideration does not belong to the scientific domain. A change of conditions of this nature does not suffice to create a science. To take away from a study all that rendered it pleasant and easy, and to make it the property of a small coterie, when it was formerly accessible to all, is not sufficient to render it scientific. It is a fatality rather than a triumph to have undergone such a change. The change is an effect rather than a cause. Curiosity, moreover, always impels towards that which is least known. External appearances having been studied, the form and function of internal organs were investigated. Physiology and comparative anatomy were born and developed; researches abounded and observers abandoned the field for the laboratory. The difference in methods of research and the pushing of precision to its extreme limits--an inevitable result of the different nature of the observations to be made--did not however yet render legitimate the claim for natural studies to be called "science." Science only begins on the day when we have found the simple theory which binds together all the facts at that time known, without of course prejudicing the future. As the number of acquired facts increases, if the theory in question continues to explain the new as it explained the old, the science becomes more firmly established. If we can imagine a time arriving when all the possible phenomena are known, and the existing hypothesis still explains them, nothing henceforth can overturn it, the science is completed. That is the simple case in which a theory has been victorious; but if it is contradicted by a single well-authenticated fact it must fall or become modified. The more things a theory explains in the present the more chance it has of success in the future. It is still only a matter of chances, for the theory is always at the mercy of unforeseen observation, which may rudely overthrow it. There is no theory which must not be modified constantly, at least in its details. To render it more and more general by successive improvements is the aim to be pursued. A collection of studies constitutes a science when a hypothesis has arisen already sufficiently strong to oblige us to refer to it all new acquisitions, and to compel us to see if they fortify or oppose it. It would indeed be a narrow conception if we were to consider as scientific the partisans of the theory alone; more than anywhere else discussion is fruitful in the natural sciences; and if it is necessary to be constantly preoccupied with the general ideas of the day, it is not at all necessary to adhere to them servilely. The naturalists of to-day are in possession of a formula with which we must always preoccupy ourselves; in other words, there are natural sciences. Without going too far back into history, let us look towards the end of the last century and the beginning of this. Cuvier, Lamarck, and Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, all preoccupied with general ideas, were each trying to build up a doctrine. The theory of evolution was born beneath the pen of Lamarck, but immediately fell under the attacks of Cuvier. It is to Darwin that the honour belongs of having rescued it from oblivion and of having initiated the movement which to-day rules the natural sciences. Studies in embryology and anatomy are rising without number beneath this impulse; and perhaps it may be said that these new sciences, so fruitful in results, absorb a little too much attention and leave in the shade subjects longer known, but which, however, gain new interest by the way they fit into present scientific theories. I wish to speak of the manners of animals; the facts regarding them are of sufficient interest if we consider them one by one, and they become much more interesting when we attempt to show the close way in which they are bound together. Volumes would not suffice to exhaust the subject; but if the entire task is too considerable, I may at least hope to accomplish a part of it by treating of those facts which may be brought together under the common title of Animal Industries. Taken separately, they may be reproached with a certain anecdotal character, but we cannot fail to agree that taken altogether they constitute an important chapter in the sciences of life. We find among animals not only hunting and fishing but the art of storing in barns, of domesticating various species, of harvesting and reaping--the rudiments of the chief human industries. Certain animals in order to shelter themselves take advantage of natural caverns in the same way as many races of primitive men. Others, like the Fox and the Rodents, dig out dwellings in the earth; even to-day there are regions where Man does not act otherwise, preparing himself a lodging by excavations in the chalk or the tufa. Woven dwellings, constructed with materials entangled in one another, like the nests of birds, proceed from the same method of manufacture as the woollen stuffs of which nomad tribes make their tents. The Termites who construct vast dwellings of clay, the Beavers who build huts of wood and of mud, have in this industry reached the same point as Man. They do not build so well, no doubt, nor in so complex a fashion as modern architects and engineers, but they work in the same way. All these ingenious artisans operate without organs specially adapted to accomplish the effect which they reach. It is with such genuine industries that we have to deal, for the most part neglecting other productions, more marvellous in certain ways, which are formed by particular organs, or are elaborated within the organism, and are not the result of the intelligent effort of the individual. To this category belong the threads which the Spider stretches, and the cocoon with which the Caterpillar surrounds himself to shelter his metamorphosis. It is incontestable; but I would add, as this conscientious observer does not, that that does not prove that the intelligence of the insect differs essentially from ours; it is a simple question of degree. Look at a boy who is going to jump over a ditch: he begins by spitting into his hands and rubbing them one against the other before taking his spring. In what has this served him? It is not more intelligent than the gesture of the bee who first plunges his head in the cell before freeing his claws, although the first gesture is useless. And, from another side, if nothing is more instinctive than the manner in which domestic Bees construct their cells of wax with geometric regularity, there are other circumstances in which these same insects give proof of remarkable reflection, sagacity, and intelligence in co-ordinating their actions in the presence of an event to which they are not accustomed, and in attaining an end which has presented itself by accident. Such are, for example, the arrangements which they make to defend their honey against the attacks of a great nocturnal Moth, the Death's Head. I shall have to revert to these facts. We must not then regard instinct, as has often been done, as a rudiment of intelligence, susceptible or not of development; but much rather as a series of intelligent acts at first reasoned, then by their frequent repetition become habitual, reflex, and at last, by heredity, instinctive. What the individual loses in individuality and in personal initiative, heredity restores to him in the form of instinct which is, as it were, the condensed and accumulated intelligence of his ancestors. He himself no longer needs to take thought either to preserve his life or to assure the perpetuation of his race. The qualities which he received at birth render reflection less necessary; thus species endowed with some powerful instinct seem not to be intelligent when they live sheltered from unforeseen events. From one point of view instinct appears to be a degradation rather than a perfecting of intelligence, because the acts which proceed from it are neither so spontaneous nor so personal; but from another point of view they are much better executed, with less hesitation, with a slighter expenditure of cerebral force and a minimum of muscular effort. A habitual act costs us much less to execute than a deliberate and reflective act. It is thus that the constructions of bees are more perfect than those of ants; the former act by instinct, the latter reason their acts at each step. It has been said in this connection that in such cases the sure instinct with which these species were originally endowed has been distorted, but that is to admit some degree of variation; the hypothesis of degeneration is as gratuitous as the other, and if we go so far as to risk a hypothesis, it would be better to use it to explain facts and not to entangle them. We will first examine the simplest industries: hunting and fishing, those industries of which the object is the immediate search for prey; and to these may be added those which are related to them as re-action is to action--that is to say, the industries of which the effect is to provide for the immediate safety of the individual. Then in an exposition parallel to the march of progress followed by human civilisations, we shall study among animals the art of collecting provisions, of domesticating and exploiting flocks, of reducing their fellows to slavery. Finally, we shall investigate the series of modifications which the dwelling undergoes, and we shall see how certain species, after having constructed admirably-arranged houses, know how to make them healthy, and how to defend them against attacks from without. HUNTING--FISHING--WARS AND EXPEDITIONS. THE CARNIVORA MORE SKILFUL HUNTERS THAN THE HERBIVORA--DIFFERENT METHODS OF HUNTING--HUNTING IN AMBUSH--THE BAITED AMBUSH--HUNTING IN THE DWELLING OR IN THE BURROW--COURSING--STRUGGLES THAT TERMINATE THE HUNT--HUNTING WITH PROJECTILES--PARTICULAR CIRCUMSTANCES PUT TO PROFIT--METHODS FOR UTILISING THE CAPTURED GAME--WAR AND BRIGANDAGE--EXPEDITIONS TO ACQUIRE SLAVES--WARS OF THE ANTS. One of the most dangerous ambushes which can be met on the road by animals who resort to a spring is that prepared by the Python. This gigantic snake hangs by his tail to the branch of a tree and lets himself droop down like a long creeper. The victim who comes within his reach is seized, enrolled, pounded in the knots which the snake forms around him. It is not necessary to multiply examples of this simple and widespread method of hunting. Not content with utilising the natural arrangements they meet with, there are animals which construct genuine ambushes, acting thus like Man, who builds in the middle or on the edge of ponds, cabins in which to await wild ducks, or who digs in the path of a lion a hole covered with trunks of trees, at the bottom of which he may kill the beast without danger. Certain insects practise this method of hunting. The Fox, for instance, so skilful a hunter in many respects, constructs an ambush when hunting hares. The larva of the Tiger Beetle constructs a hole about the size of a feather quill, disposed vertically, and of a depth, enormous for its size, of forty centimetres. It maintains itself in this tube by arching its supple body along the walls at a height sufficient for the top of its head to be level with the surface of the soil, and to close the opening of the hole. A little insect--an ant, a young beetle, or something similar--passes. As soon as it begins to walk on the head of the larva, the latter letting go its hold of the wall allows itself to fall to the bottom of the trap, dragging its victim with it. In this narrow prison it is easily able to obtain the mastery over its prey, and to suck out the liquid parts. The ambuscade of the Ant-lion is classic; it does not differ greatly from the others. He excavates a conical pitfall, in which he conceals himself, and seizes the unfortunate ants and other insects whom ill-chance causes to roll into it. In these two examples we see a special organ utilised for a particular function; it is one of the intermediate cases, already referred to, between the true industries involving ingenuity and the simple phenomena due to adaptations and modifications of the body. The Alligator of Florida and of Louisiana delights in this chase. He seeks in particular the Great Boat-Tail which nests in the reeds at the edge of marshes and ponds. When the young have come out and are expecting from their parents the food which the chances of the hunt may delay, they do not cease chirping and calling by their cries. But the parents are not alone in hearing these appeals. They may also strike the ears of the alligator, who furtively approaches the imprudent singers. With a sudden stroke of his tail he strikes the reeds and throws into the water one or more of the hungry young ones, who are then at his mercy. The colonies are not only exposed to the devastations of those who feed on their members; they have other enemies in the animals who covet their stores of food. The most inveterate robber of bees is the nocturnal Death's Head Moth. When he has succeeded in penetrating the hive the stings of the proprietors who throw themselves on him do not trouble him, thanks to his thick fleece of long hairs which the sting cannot penetrate; he makes his way to the cells, rips them open, gorges himself with honey, and causes such havoc that in Switzerland, in certain years when these butterflies were abundant, numbers of hives have been found absolutely empty. Many other marauders and of larger size, such as the Bear, also spread terror among these laborious insects and empty their barns. No animal is more crafty than the Raven, and the fabulist who wished to make him a dupe was obliged to oppose to him the very cunning Fox in order to render the tale fairly life-like. A great number of stories are told concerning the Raven's cleverness, and many of them are undoubtedly true. There is no bolder robber of nests. He swallows the eggs and eats the little ones of the species who cannot defend themselves against him; he even seeks the eggs of Sea-gulls on the coast; but in this case he must use cunning, for if he is discovered it means a serious battle. On the coast also the Raven seeks to obtain possession of the Hermit-crab. This Crustacean dwells in the empty shells of Gasteropods. At the least alarm he retires within this shell and becomes invisible, but the bird advances with so much precaution that he is often able to seize the crab before he has time to hide himself. If the raven fails he turns the shell over and over until the impatient crustacean allows a claw to emerge; he is then seized and immediately devoured. If there is a question of hunting larger game like a Hare, the Raven prefers to take an ally. They start him at his burrow and pursue him flying. In spite of his proverbial rapidity the hare is scarcely able to flee more than two hundred yards. He succumbs beneath vigorous blows on his skull from the beaks of his assailants. During winter, in the high regions of the Alps, when the soil is covered with snow, this chase is particularly fruitful for ravens. The story is told of that unfortunate hare who had hollowed out in the snow a burrow with two entrances. Two of these birds having recognised his presence, one entered one hole in order to dislodge the hare, the other awaited him at the other opening to batter his head with blows from his beak and kill him before he had time to gain presence of mind. Mammals especially, such as Dogs, Wolves, and Foxes, exercise this kind of chase; it is, exactly, the coursing which Man has merely had to direct for his own benefit. Wild dogs pursue their prey united in immense packs. They excite each other by barking while they frighten the game and half paralyse his efforts. No animal is agile and strong enough to be sure of escaping. They surround him and cut off his retreat in a most skilful manner; Gazelles and Antelopes, in spite of their extreme nimbleness and speed, are caught at last; Boars are rapidly driven into a corner; their vigorous defence may cost the life of some of the assailants, but they nevertheless become the prey of the band who rush on to the quarry. In Asia wild dogs do not fear even to attack the tiger. Many no doubt are crushed by a blow of the animal's paw or strangled in his jaws, but the death of comrades does not destroy either the courage or the greediness of the surviving aggressors. Their number also is such that the great beast, covered by agile enemies who cling to him and wound him in every part, must at last succumb. Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page |
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