LITMIR.BIZ

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p>Birds and all Nature, Vol. IV, No. 3, September 1898

      SOME ANIMAL PROPENSITIES

      IT is not quite agreeable to contemplate many of the shortcomings, from a moral point of view, of certain of the animal creation, and even less to be compelled to recognize the necessity of them. Thievery in nature is widely extended, and food is the excuse for it. Civilization has made the practice of the humanities possible among men, but the lower animals will doubtless remain, as they have ever been, wholly subject to the instincts with which nature originally endowed them.

      Huber relates an anecdote of some Hive-bees paying a visit to a nest of Bumble-bees, placed in a box not far from their hive, in order to steal or beg the honey. The Hive-bees, after pillaging, had taken almost entire possession of the nest. Some Bumble-bees, which remained, went out to collect provisions, and bringing home the surplus after they had supplied their own immediate wants, the Hive-bees followed them and did not quit them until they had obtained the fruit of their labors. They licked them, presented to them their probosces, surrounded them, and thus at last persuaded them to part with the contents of their "honey-bags." The Bumble-bees did not seem to harm or sting them, hence it would seem to have been persuasion rather than force that produced this instance of self-denial. But it was systematic robbery, and was persisted in until the Wasps were attracted by the same cause, when the Bumble-bees entirely forsook the nest.

      Birds, notwithstanding their attractiveness in plumage and sweetness in song, are many of them great thieves. They are neither fair nor generous towards each other. When nest-building they will steal the feathers out of the nests of other birds, and frequently drive off other birds from a feeding ground even when there is abundance. This is especially true of the Robin, who will peck and run after and drive away birds much larger than himself. In this respect the Robin and Sparrow resemble each other. Both will drive away a Blackbird and carry away the worm it has made great efforts to extract from the soil.

      Readers of Frank Buckland's delightful books will remember his pet Rat, which not infrequently terrified his visitors at breakfast. He had made a house for the pet just by the side of the mantel-piece, and this was approached by a kind of ladder, up which the Rat had to climb when he had ventured down to the floor. Some kinds of fish the Rat particularly liked, and was sure to come out if the savor was strong. One day Mr. Buckland turned his back to give the Rat a chance of seizing the coveted morsel, which he was not long in doing and in running up the ladder with it; but he had fixed it by the middle of the back, and the door of the entrance was too narrow to admit of its being drawn in thus. But the Rat was equal to the emergency. In a moment he bethought himself, laid the fish on the small platform before the door, and then entering his house he put out his mouth, took the fish by the nose and thus pulled it in and made a meal of it.

      One of the most remarkable instances of carrying on a career of theft came under our own observation, says a writer in Cassell's Magazine. A friend in northeast Essex had a very fine Aberdeenshire Terrier, a female, and a very affectionate relationship sprang up between this Dog and a Tom cat. The Cat followed the Dog with the utmost fondness, purring and running against it, and would come and call at the door for the Dog to come out. Attention was first drawn to the pair by this circumstance. One evening we were visiting our friend and heard the Cat about the door calling, and some one said to our friend that the cat was noisy. "He wants little Dell," said he – that being the Dog's name; we looked incredulous. "Well, you shall see," said he, and opening the door he let the Terrier out. At once the Cat bounded toward her, fawned round her, and then, followed by the Dog, ran about the lawn. But a change came. Some kittens were brought to the house, and the Terrier got much attached to them and they to her. The Tom cat became neglected, and soon appeared to feel it. By and by, to the surprise of every one, the Tom somehow managed to get, and to establish in the hedge of the garden, two kittens, fiery, spitting little things, and carried on no end of depredation on their account. Chickens went; the fur and remains of little Rabbits were often found round the nest, and pieces of meat disappeared from kitchen and larder. This went on for some time, when suddenly the Cat disappeared – had been shot in a wood near by, by a game-keeper, when hunting to provide for these wild kittens, which were allowed to live in the hedge, as they kept down the Mice in the garden. This may be said to be a case of animal thieving for a loftier purpose than generally obtains, mere demand for food and other necessity.

      That nature goes her own way is illustrated by these anecdotes of birds and animals, and by many others even more strange and convincing. The struggle for existence, like the brook, goes on forever, and the survival, if not of the fittest, at least of the strongest, must continue to be the rule of life, so long as the economical problems of existence remain unsolved. Man and beast must be fed. "Manna," to some extent, will always be provided by generous humanitarianism. There will always be John Howards. Occasionally a disinterested, self-abnegating soul like that of John Woolman will appear among us – doing good from love; and, it may be, men like Jonathan Chapman – Johnny Appleseed, he was called from his habit of planting apple seeds whereever he went, as he distributed tracts among the frontier settlers in the early days of western history. He would not harm even a Snake. His heart was right, though his judgment was little better than that of many modern sentimentalists who cannot apparently distinguish the innocuous from the venemous.

      It does seem that birds and animals are warranted in committing every act of vandalism that they are accused of. They are unquestionably entitled by every natural right to everything of which they take possession. The farmer has no moral right to deny them a share in the product of his fields and orchards; the gardener is their debtor (at least of the birds), and the government, which benefits also from their industry, should give them its protection. – C. C. M.

      THE PETRIFIED FERN

      IN a valley, centuries ago,

      Grew a little fernleaf, green and slender,

      Veining delicate and fibres tender,

      Waving when the wind crept down so low;

      Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it;

      Playful sunbeams darted in and found it,

      Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it;

      But no foot of man e'er came that way,

      Earth was young and keeping holiday.

      Monster fishes swam the silent main —

      Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches,

      Giant forests shook their stately branches,

      Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain;

      Nature reveled in wild mysteries,

      But the little fern was not of these,

      Did not number with the hills and trees,

      Only grew and waved its sweet wild way —

      No one came to note it day by day.

      Earth one day put on a frolic mood,

      Moved the hills and changed the mighty motion

      Of the deep, strong currents of the ocean,

      Heaved the rocks, and shook the haughty wood,

      Crushed the little fern in soft moist clay,

      Covered it and hid it safe away.

      Oh, the long, long centuries since that day!

      Oh, the agony, Oh, life's bitter cost

      Since that useless little fern was lost!

      Useless? Dost? There came a thoughtful man

      Searching Nature's secrets far and deep;

      From a fissure in a rocky steep

      He withdrew a stone, o'er which there ran

      Fairy pencilings, a quaint design,

      Veining, leafage, fibres, clear and fine,

      And the fern's life lay in every line.

      So, methinks, God hides some souls away,

      Sweetly to surprise us some sweet day.

– Anon.

      WATER

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