Part 5

The reptiles offer us many good examples of mimicry. Most arboreal lizards wear the colour of the leaves upon which they feed; the same is true of the whip-snakes and the tiny green tree-frogs. A striking example of successful camouflage is found in the case of a North American frog whose home is on lichen-covered rocks and walls, which he so closely imitates in colour and pattern as to pass unnoticed so long as he remains quiet. I have seen an immense frog, whose home was in a damp cave, with large green and black spots over his body precisely like the spots on the sides of his home.

Author Note: The word "mimicry" as used here implies a particular kind of resemblance only, a resemblance in external appearance, never internal, a resemblance that deceives. It does not imply voluntary imitation. Both the words "mimicry" and "imitation" are used to imply outward likeness. The object of the outward likeness or resemblance is to cause a harmless or unprotected animal to be mistaken for the dangerous one which he oftentimes imitates; or to aid the unprotected animal in escaping unnoticed among the surroundings he may simulate.

A splendid example of pure bluff is shown in the case of the harmless Australian lizard, known scientifically under the name of chlamydosaurus kingii. When he is undisturbed he seems perfectly inoffensive, but when he becomes angry, he becomes a veritable fiend-like reptile. In this condition he stands up on his hind legs, opens his gaping mouth, showing the most terrible teeth, which, by the way, have never been known to bite anything. Besides this forbidding display he further adds to his terrible appearance by raising the most extraordinary frill which is exquisitely decorated in grey, yellow, scarlet, and blue. This he uses like an umbrella, and if in this way he does not succeed in frightening away his enemy, he rushes at him, and lashes him with his saw-like tail. Even dogs are terrified at such camouflage and leave the successful bluffer alone.

In all parts of the tropics are tree-snakes that lie concealed among the boughs and shrubs. Most of them are green, and some have richly coloured bands around their bodies which look not unlike gaily coloured flowers, and which, no doubt, attract flower-seeking insects and birds. Among these may be mentioned the deadly-poisonous snakes of the genus elaps of South America. They are so brilliantly provided with bright red and black bands trimmed with yellow rings that it is not uncommon for a plant collector to attempt to pick them up for rare orchids!

Wherever these snakes are found, are also found a number of perfectly harmless snakes, absolutely unlike the dangerous ones in habit and life, yet coloured precisely the same. The elaps fulvius, for example, a deadly venomous snake of Guatemala, has a body trimmed in simple black bands on a coral-red ground, and in the same country and always with him is found a quite harmless snake, which is coloured and banded in the same identical manner. The terrible and much-feared elaps lemnicatus has the peculiar black bands divided into divisions of three by narrow yellow rings, thus exactly mimicking a harmless snake, the pliocerus elapoides, both of which live in Mexico. Presumably, the deadly variety assumes the colouring of the harmless kind in order to deceive intended victims as to his ferocity.

Surely this is sufficient evidence that colouration and pattern-design is a useful camouflage device of the great struggle for existence. And it is safe to assert that any animal that has enemies and still does not resort to protective colouration or mimicry in some form is entirely able to protect itself either by its size, strength, ferocity, or by resorting to safety in numbers. Elephants and rhinoceroses, for example, are too powerful to be molested when grown, except in the rarest cases, and are furthermore thoroughly capable of protecting their young. Hippopotamuses are protected by their immense heads, and are capable of defending their young from crocodiles even when in the water.

The bison and buffalo, which were once so powerful on the plains of North America, were protected by their gregarious habits, which terrorised their enemies--the wolves. Their nurseries were a feature of their wisdom. These were circular pens where the tall grass was tramped down by expectant mothers for the protection of their young. This natural nursery was protected from the inside by sentinels who went round and round the pen constantly guarding the young not only from the attack of wolves but also from venturing forth alone too early into the open unprotected plains. In a similar way the snow-pens of the moose of the Far North serve to protect them from the hungry hordes of wolves of which they live in constant danger. This indicates that the annihilation of the bison and buffalo was due, not to lack of wisdom, but to man's inhumanity; for, taking advantage of their nurseries, the men crouched near and concealing themselves in the grass killed not only the mothers for food but even the young in their savage sport.

The large majority of monkeys are protectively coloured with some shade of brown or grey, with specially marked faces. Entire packs of Ceylonese species will, at the slightest alarm, become invisible by crouching on a palm-tree. One of the most strikingly coloured African monkeys is jet black with a white bushy tail, and a face surrounded by a white ring, or mantle of long silky hair. He thus simulates so strikingly the hanging white lichens upon the trees that he is rarely seen by his enemies.

A book might be written upon the various ways that animals, when closely associated with other animals or human beings, imitate them. Darwin says that "two species of wolves, which had been reared by dogs, learned to bark, as does sometimes the jackall," and it is well known that certain dogs, when reared by cats, imitate their habits, even to the licking of their feet and the washing of their faces. If a mongrel dog associates with a trained dog for any period of time it is remarkable the progress he will make. For this same reason young dogs are carried on hunting trips with trained dogs that they may learn by imitation the art of hunting.

In the whole realm of Nature there is nothing more wonderful than this matter of protective colouration. Animals do not monopolise the art. It extends through the whole world of living creatures. The fact that individual animals have no voluntary control over their own colour is eloquent testimony as to the existence of mysterious life forces and racial evolutions which are still far beyond the grasp of man's understanding. To see a tiny chameleon adapt his colouring to his environment, be it red, green, or yellow, in the twinkling of an eye, is to have seen an argument for God Himself.

ANIMAL MUSICIANS

"Nay, what is Nature's self, But an endless strife towards Music, euphony, rhyme?"

--WATSON.

The great thinkers of the age believe that the world is one marvellous blending of innumerable and varied voices. This unison of sound forms the great music of the spheres, which the poets and philosophers have written so much about. Even from a purely scientific point of view, there is no denying that this music exists. Aviators tell us that when they listen from a distance to the myriads of noises and sounds that arise over a great city, these are all apparently lost in a modulated hum precisely like the vibrations of an immense tuning-fork, and appearing as but a single tone. Thus the immense noise going from our world is musically digested into one tone, and the aviator soaring above the earth hears only the one sound--the music of the spheres.

The deep appreciation that animals have for music is becoming a generally known fact among those who have studied them closely. Every one must admit that there is much truth in the old saying that "music hath charms to soothe the savage breast." Music is composed of vibrations, which act with great power upon the nervous system of men and animals alike. Each is affected according to his particular physical and mental development.

Professor Tarchanoff has made a careful study of the influence of music upon men and animals. He has demonstrated, by means of a machine which carefully registers the various activities of the hands and fingers, that when the hands are so tired and fatigued that they cannot make any marks except a straight line on the cylinder which registers the movements, music will so stimulate the nerves as to cause all fatigue to disappear. And as soon as the fingers again touch the cylinder, they begin to draw lines of various kinds and heights, thus proving that the music had rested the fingers and placed them under control. Various kinds of music were used: that of a melancholy nature had precisely the opposite effect to that of a lively, cheerful character; the nerves of the hands could either be contracted or expanded according to the nature of the music.

Like all real scientists, Professor Tarchanoff does not claim to give any positive explanation of these facts. He believes, however, that the voluntary muscles act in the same relation to the music as the heart--that is, that cheerful, happy music affects the excito-motor nerves, sets up a vibration in those nerves which produces cheer and good feeling; while sad, morbid music plays along the depressant nerves and produces sadness and depression.

In view of these facts, it is easy to see how animals, with their nervous temperaments and ready response to outside stimuli, are greatly influenced by various kinds of music. It is scientifically recognised that music tends to increase the elimination of carbonic acid and increases not only the consumption of oxygen, but even the activities of the skin. There is no doubt that good music at meal time aids the digestion.

MONKEYS ARE THE MOST MUSICAL OF ALL ANIMALS. WHEN THEY CONGREGATE FOR "CONCERTS," AS SOME OF THE TRIBES DO, THE AIR IS FILLED WITH WEIRD STRAINS OF MONKEY-MUSIC.]

Cats have a species of unbeautiful music all their own, generally produced at late hours of the night on the house tops, garden walls, and in the alleys of our dwellings. Miss Cat's songs are far too chromatic to be appreciated by human ears; as a result her concertos and solos are rarely spoken of by human critics. However, Nature does sometimes produce a Tetrazzini, Alice Neilson, or Caruso, in the form of a cat, which really delights in harmonious combinations of sound. I know, for instance, of a cat called "Nordica" owned by Presson Miller, who apparently takes the greatest delight in hearing good vocal and instrumental music. Another well-educated musical cat belongs to a friend who plays a guitar. This cat delights in touching the strings with his dainty, soft paws, and springs with delight as the notes are produced.

The Animal World speaks of five musical cats, which were carried to various parts of the world and exhibited as "bell-ringers," and their owner made a fortune out of their concerts. Five bells were suspended from a hoop, which hung above the stage, and to each bell was attached a small rope. At a given signal, each cat would seize a bell and give it a pull. This was done with such perfect time and spirit that one might well believe it was the work of human musicians and not of cats.

Cows are responsive to certain kinds of music. A funeral march makes them sad, and ragtime so disturbs them that they give but little milk. The newspapers claim that Charles W. Ward, who owns a ranch near Eureka, California, says that the right kind of music will increase the production of milk, and that he uses a phonograph in the dairy barn.

A friend, who has travelled much, tells the story of a musical cow. He, in company with two other friends, was coming up a river in a small boat singing. Just as they turned a bend, they saw a small brown cow, suckling her calf, along with several other cows in a nearby pasture. The cow seemed so fascinated with the music that she plunged into the water and waded up to her head trying to reach the boat. As they rowed along, she ran up and down the bank, cutting capers in a most astonishing manner and lowing and bellowing in testimony of her delight in the music. She would leap, skip, roll on the grass, paw up the earth, like an angry bull, and chase off like a playful kitten, always with a low plaintive bellow as a final farewell. These friends often rowed up the river just to see if the musical cow was there, and she always greeted them in the usual appreciative manner.

Lions and tigers are proverbially fond of music. Professional trainers tell us that these animals, when tamed, will not do their stunts without the accompaniment of music. The story is told of a group of tigers which recently refused to perform, because the musicians, while the performance was going on, went on a strike. At once when the music ceased, the animals returned to their respective seats and no amount of encouragement would induce them to continue their performance. No amount of threats would induce them to work without music. The trainer dared not punish them too severely, yet he feared that if they were not forced to perform, they might continue to strike. But such was not the case, for on the morrow when the musicians returned they acted as never before.

Sheep, both tame and wild, are exceedingly fond of music, and the shepherds of Scotland have used it with their sheep for ages. When the shepherd plays upon his flute or bagpipe, they gather around him and listen apparently with great satisfaction; when the music ceases, they wander out to feed, and in the evening he leads them home by the single strains of his flute.

Circus horses are not only fond of music, but are partial to certain tunes, and demand that these be played while they are doing their turn. If for any reason the band changes the tune during a performance, they immediately refuse to go on with their stunts.

The original fountain of all music was based on the various voices and sounds of animals--and each musical instrument was originally devised to imitate these sounds. For all instruments--the bass drum, flute, clarinet, trombone, trumpet, violin, and even pipe organ--an animal may be mentioned that owns the fundamental tones in its voice, and which man has imitated. Castanets, for example, were imitations of the rattlesnakes; the first musical instruments of any savage tribe of men are made so as to represent the voices of the chief animals of that particular locality.

Every animal of the higher order, with the exception of a few mute dogs that belong to very hot or cold climates, is possessed of some sort of musical tone, expressive of pain or joy, and by means of which he can express certain emotions. Darwin claimed that the voice of the gibbon, while extremely loud, was very musical; and Waterhouse said that this musician sang the scale with considerable accuracy, at least sufficiently well for a trained violinist to accompany him.