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Cornell University Library
QL 756.B37
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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/cu3 1924002901191
EO ee ee See ee
APPLETONS’ HOME READING BOOKS
CURIOUS HOMES
AND THEIR TENANTS
BY
JAMES CARTER BEARD
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1898
ke
CopyrieHt, 1897,
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
INTRODUCTION TO THE HOME READING
BOOK SERIES BY THE EDITOR.
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 formsa 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
v
vi CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
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 no
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. Vil
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 place, 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. Very 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, Rousseau’s
Emile, Pestalozzi’s Leonard and Gertrude, Francis
W. Parker’s Talks about Teaching, G. 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 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
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 INTRODUCTION. 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 or 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.
xX CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Fourth 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 feelings, 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. Harris.
Wasuinerox, D. C., November 16, 1896.
PREFACE.
No attempt, it seems almost useless to say, can be
made in this little book to do more than attract the
attention of its readers to the subject of which it
treats and awaken their interest init. Anything that
excites curiosity and leads to the study of the home
life and what may perhaps be called human traits in
the lower animals, must necessarily be of use both in
supplying means of wholesome, never-failing -enter-
tainment for the intellectual faculties, engaging and
broadening our sympathies, and also in suggesting the
standpvint that must be taken in rightly estimating
either the capabilities or the limitations of any mem-
ber of the greater brotherhood that includes not man-
kind only, but every living creature.
As the life of an animal is more or less centered
in the exercise of parental solicitude for its young,
the most perfect exhibition of its power to adapt
means to a desired end may in a like degree be meas-
ured by the character of the home it provides for
them and the manner in which it ministers to their
comfort and protection. Judged by this standard, it
is instructive to note the parallelisms and contrasts
between the efforts of man unaided by the cumula-
xi
xi CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
tive knowledge called science and those of the lower
animals in building their habitations, and to observe
the almost invariably superior results obtained through
the greater constructive ability of the latter. This
comparison has not, so far as the author knows, been
elsewhere suggested, although several works have been
written upon the architecture of insects and other
animals.
Zodlogy is a progressive science, and even in so
small a volume as the present one a number of recent
discoveries in natural history, not to be found else-
where in similar works are noticed. There is, indeed,
more to be told than many volumes could contain,
and still more to learn than has yet been recorded in
regard to the house-building and housekeeping of the
children of Nature; and the author is not without
hope that even the incomplete and unambitious
sketches here given may incite some active young
brain to busy itself with the subject. Children are
among the best observers in the world. Their keen
eyes and the direct and sympathetic deductions they
make from what they see sometimes solve problems
that puzzle their elders. No preparation or special
apparatus is necessary to study the manners and cns-
toms of tiny tribes of which, though they fill our
fields and forests and are always with us, we really
know so little. Nothing but the leisure which at-
tends so few of us older folks, and of interest in the
work and love for it, which, I fear, still fewer possess,
is required to make perhaps important discoveries,
correct serious errors, or confirm observations already
PREFACE, xiii
made in the field for investigation to be found in
comparing the homes and habits of birds and beasts
with those of human beings.
A novel feature in the present volume is the
number of engravings it contains which are unnoticed
in the letterpress. The purpose of their introduction
is not alone to render the book more attractive, but, if
possible, to extend its use beyond its text. The inten-
tion is that these additional drawings, the subject of
each of which has been carefully selected on account
of some special feature of interest it possesses, shall
be instrumental in introducing the pupil into new
and delightful fields of research. It is suggested, as
an exercise of considerable value and utility, that the
young student shall be required to embody the results
of his investigations in written or oral accounts of the
subjects illustrated, giving in every case special atten-
tion to details rather than generalizations, and to the
habits and manner of life of the creature described
rather than the place it occupies in the more or less
artificial systems of naturalists.
J. Carter Brarp.
July, 1897.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION . é F ‘ ‘ 7 : ‘ : , 1
WoRLD-BUILDERS . 2 : : “i : : . - 4
IsLAND-BUILDERS. . 3 , . ‘ : i . 8
HOMES IN THE EARTH.
CAVE-DWELLERS : 3 : ‘ Fi F ‘ . 15
BIRDS THAT BUILD EDIBLE NESTS . ‘i ‘ i F > 418
MoLrs. : . s 3 : . 21
AN OBJECT OF SUPERSTITION . ‘ . 27
A QUEER-LOOKING GROUND HOG. 4 ‘ ‘ : . 29
Does THAT ARE NOT DOGS ‘ . 82
BANK BURROWERS . ‘ ss . 386
A LITTLE QUADRUPED THAT .LAYS EGGS. : . 389
A PORCUPINE ANT-EATER. 7 : : . 41
JUMPING MICE . 3 . : P . 43
A FELLOW WITH POCKETS IN HIS CHEEKS. : . AT
DIAMOND BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS . ‘ F . 50
A BIRD BURROWER . : F ‘ s ‘ x é . 538
A TURRET-BUILDING SPIDER . ‘ a ‘ . ‘ . 56
CTENIZA . : F ‘ F ‘ é : . 59
BEES AND WASPS AS MINERS . és 7 ‘ : 62
ANTS AND THEIR HOMES,
SENSES OF ANTS E ‘ é ji ; F . 68
How ANTS AND OTHER ANIMALS WORK . é . vo AA
ANTS AT HOME. ‘ 2 ‘ r * ‘ . . . 4
xv
xvi CURIUUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
PAGE
AGRICULTURAL ANTS : 6 77
CARPENTER ANTS .. : 82
Honry ANTS AND THEIR HOMES : 84
HOMES IN THE ROCKS.
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS . ; 5 . 87
AUSTRALIAN CLIFF-DWELLERS . 94
EAGLES’ NESTS . . : 4 . 97
HOMES IN THE TREES.
TREE HOUSES IN NEW GUINEA ‘ ‘i . . 101
A STRANGE ANIMAL . 105
ANIMALS THAT SLEEP THROUGH THE WINTER. : . 108
Porto F ¥ 3 . 110
BasHFuL Brniy . 118
THE LONG-TAILED COONBEAR . P . 115
TENEMENT HOUSE BUILT BY BIRDS . ‘ ; 117
A CLEVER LITTLE ARCHITECT . : ‘ ” . 121
A NEST BUILT IN MIDWINTER . jl r Z ‘ z . 126
THE FLOWER-EATER AND HER PRETTY NEST “ ‘ . 131
THE FEATHERED SEAMSTRESS . . : ‘ . 138
THE FEATHERED PARSON AND HIS HOME ‘ i . 184
STEALING A HOME . . ‘ - . 188
WALLED IN i 4 . ‘ s - 140
THE WOOD-EATER 2 : ? : . 144
BUTTERFLY HOUSE . ‘ F é z ‘ ‘ . 147
WASPS’ NESTS ‘ . . z ‘ F : A . 149
HOMES IN THE GRASS.
HUMAN NEST-BUILDERS . ‘ : A « 164
QUEER LITTLE KANGAROO'S NEST ‘ ; . 157
Nest OF PIG’S FEET. : : A . 160
THE SMALLEST AND PRETTIEST OF MICE. : . 162
HOMES IN THE SNOW.
Homes or ti Eskimo, WHITE BEAR, AND SEAL . . 167
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
HOMES IN THE WATER,
HUMAN LAKE-DWELLERS . A : ; ‘ ;
FourR-FOOTED LAKE-DWELLERS.
A FLOATING NEST . ‘ P ‘
WEB-SPINNING FISH AND NEST. : 2
A QUARRELSOME LITTLE NEST-BUILDER . : 3
A DOME UNDER WATER .
TUBE DWELLINGS . ‘ : 7 : :
SEA SHELLS THAT BUILD NESTS LIKE THOSE OF BIRDS .
HEAD-FOOTED NEST-BUILDERS . é ‘ 2 7 ‘
AN ANIMAL ROLLED INTO A BALL AND LIVING IN A STONE
A NEST IN A WATERFALL
PORTABLE HOUSES.
TURCOMAN’S PORTABLE VILLAGES . . . . .
THE PORTABLE HOUSE OF THE HERMIT CRAB. # .
MISCELLANEOUS.
A WARU HOUSE a F ‘i .
A HOUSE THAT WEARS A HAT.
DWELLING IN SKELETONS OF WHALES
A HOME IN A HORN. : ¥ ‘ . ‘ F F
A CITY OF BIRDS ‘ :
FEATHERED GARDENERS . , :
THE FUN-LOVING KAGU . ‘ : 3 % ‘
THE SHADOW BIRDS. % ‘
SPIDERS AND COBWEBS . F
DEATH IN A ROSE . z P
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS . A F
xvii
PAGE
173
177
181
185
187
189
193
196
200
206
210
215
219
223
229
282
234
236
242
246
249
252
258
261
ANALYSIS OF
CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
AN analysis of a volume like the present, which is but
a slight sketch of the work called for by the subject, and
not in any sense a systematic treatise—it would defeat the
author’s purpose to make it so—must necessarily be very
general in character, and rather devoted to suggestions
with regard to the further pursuit of the themes started
than to any formal epitome of its contents. The book is
divided into a number of sections, under each of which is
grouped together a description of the habitations of men
and animals belonging to it, so that their homes can readily
be compared and conclusions reached with regard to the
relative excellence or imperfection of each in its own
particular class.
In the introduction, the ancient races which inhabited
America before the advent of the red man upon the con-
tinent are described as having built better homes, shown
a greater excellence in manufactures of various kinds, and
a much greater advance in social order than the native
American Indians ever did; and all this notwithstanding
the fact that these ancient races were nothing more than
insects. Let the pupil read up on the aboriginal tribes of
America and upon social insect communities, and take
note of the differences in the manner of living and of the
habitations of the one and the other, and also of analogies
that certainly exist between them. Let him, as far as he
x15
XX CURIOUS HOMES AND-THEIR TENANTS.
can, reason out the causes of the similarity and the dis-
similarity in the domestic economy of the savage and of
the ant, wasp, or bee.
A brief description of the humble forms of life instru-
mental in building the great common homes of all land
animals, including man, of course follows. The interde-
pendence of natural history and geology. here suggested
in the formation of chalk and limestone and of coral reefs
forms a most interesting subject for study and investiga-
tion.
Burrows, rude as the dens of wild beasts, and far infe-
rior to the elaborate underground homes of many sorts of
birds, beasts. and insects, seem to have been the first habi-
tations of men. Certain tribes of savages and of the
dwellers in the frigid zone remain burrowers to the present
day. But among animals a relatively greater proportion
of lower mammals and of insects than of birds or men*
excavate homes in the earth, and the physical and mental
peculiarities of the classes mentioned that lead to a prefer-
ence for underground homes form in this case a proper
subject for investigation.
In the section devoted to ants, these, which with the
bees, with the single exception of the termites, constitute
perhaps the most extraordinary of all the tribes of the in-
sect world, are briefly considered and their wonderful in-
telligence and social order described. Ants have devel-
oped acommunistic order, a socialistic form of society, that
is not only perfect of its kind, but is possibly the only one
that can be maintained among more or less intelligent be-
ings. These little citizens are never governed by personal
considerations; all their allegiance is given to the com-
munity of which they are members. No family relations
closer than those they owe to the whole society, no inter-
ests dearer than those that bind them to the body corpo-
rate, can exist. The division of labor among the different
parts of the community does not elevate some and depress
ANALYSIS. mt
others in the social scale. All are useful, all are equal,
all are brothers and sisters—the offspring of what may be
called the parental department. But no personal love or
friendships exist among them; they care no more for each
other, except as representing individual fractions of the
community, than one part of a vegetable growth cares for
another—the branch for the twig or the twig for the leaf.
Like some tribes of Indians, they kill off without pity or
remorse all helplessly aged or useless individuals; even
their common mothers are, we are assured, sacrificed when
too old to be of further use ; and they ruthlessly expel from
the community their non-working brothers and sisters
who have grown to be perfect males and females, and, al-
though the objects of the greatest solicitude and tenderest
care up to the period of their expulsion, their welfare
ceases from that moment to be of the slightest concern to
any member of the community.
Looked at as a citizen of a republic with peculiar laws
and customs, the little communities of ants to be every-
where found become as interesting as strange tribes of
men in distant countries ; and as nothing prevents the stu-
dent from personally investigating their manners and cus-
toms, it is quite possible that no book yet published can tell
him what he may find out for himself.
As detailed a description as the limits of this little book
allow has been given of the wonderful cliff-dwellings in
the southwestern part of the United States, but many in-
teresting questions with regard to the people who once
lived in them have been necessarily passed without notice.
The whole subject is intensely interesting, and has been
treated at length in magazines and Government reports. .
It is within the bounds of possibility that some who read
these words have visited these most interesting ruins, or
may at some future day do so, and the author of the pres-
ent volume will feel that he has accomplished a most use-
ful work if he succeeds in awakening in any boy’s or girl’s
xxii CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
mind a desire or purpose to find out for himself or herself
all they can of these ruins, more interesting to Americans
than any that can be seen in the Old World, and to pene-
trate, if possible, at some time in his or her life the mystery
that surrounds them.
Homes in the trees form a subject that is practically
inexhaustible, and scarcely needs any suggestion as to
the line of study in following it out; though after the
inevitable comparison that offers itself to our mind be-
tween the rude attempts of untaught savages at building
homes in the trees and the skillful and workmanlike
habitations constructed by many sorts of birds, the bird-
like nests of many quadruped mammals excite our atten-
tion and curiosity, and lead us to inquire what other traits
these furry nest-builders possess in common with feathered
ones. The same lines of study may be pursued for homes
in the grass.
Homes in the snow emphasize the fact that under simi-
lar circumstances men and beasts may possess pretty much
the same sort of homes—a fact that is further illustrated in
homes in the water. The lines of study suggested under
these two sections are, however, too obvious to require
special directions, and too numerous to receive justice in
the limited space here available.
The use of portable houses admits of a great number of
instances not mentioned in the letterpress. These are to
be found among the caddice worms, caterpillars, and other
insects, as well as many more curious examples than those
described in the text. Among the hermit crabs the pupil’s
line of investigation will naturally lie in this direction.
Among the homes classed as miscellaneous, in the last
section, are those whose oddity, though the most striking,
is by no means the chief element of interest; they illus-
trate the extreme adaptability of living creatures of many
sorts, including mankind, in accommodating the most un-
promising materials and situations to their need of some
ANALYSIS. xxiii
sort of habitation. It is of the utmost importance that the
pupil be taught to reason out, as far as he can, in every
case the causes of the form and character of each habita-
tion as it comes in turn under consideration, for it is the
ratiocinative and imaginative faculties rather than those
of memory and method that this little book is intended to
stimulate; not because these latter mental endowments are
less indispensable and valuable than the former, but be-
cause the limits of the work do not admit of anything
more. It is also to be remembered that the cultivation of
memory and system are far more valuable when they fol-
low than when they precede the interest awakened by
appeals to the reason and imagination.
CURIOUS HOMES
AND THEIR TENANTS.
INTRODUCTORY.
COMMUNAL DWELLINGS, AND THOSE WHO INHABIT THEM.
Tue Indians upon the eastern coast of North
America, as the first European settlers found them,
had, as we well know, no cities, no roads, and no build-
ings, unless the rude temporary shelter of bark wig-
wams can be so called. They had little more real
government than a herd of beasts. They dressed in
skins, because they could not weave cloth, and their
arrows had heads of flint, because the red men of
the forest did not know how to make them of metal.
Their plow was the bough of a tree or a clamshell,
and they had no horses, cows, or any domestic animals
except their dogs. Of books or reading or writing
they knew nothing. At the same time other tribes
far in the Southwest lived in villages, tilled the land,
made pottery and cloth, and were in every respect far
more civilized. They are called Pueblo Indians, be-
cause they lived in pueblos, or villages consisting of
single houses. One of these huge structures of mud
or stone contained thousands of tenants, a town or
city in a single house.
1
ga CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
But long before the Indian came to America the
continent was inhabited by puny races that equaled
and in some cases perhaps surpassed him in arts and
manufactures, certainly in their architecture, and still
more certainly in their laws and customs. Like the
Pueblo Indians, they lived and still live—for they have
not been extirpated, as the greater part of the Indians
have—in communities occupying a single dwelling,
each a nation by itself, and, unlike human societies,
every member more interested and careful for the gen-
eral welfare than for that of any individual. It is true
such races are insects. They do not resemble human
beings in outward shape, but there is more in common
between these small, strangely formed creatures and
ourselves than is generally supposed; and the fact
that they have developed a social order in some re-
spects at least far in advance of any that human
beings have ever been able to establish, makes it worth
our while to study their manners and customs; for it
is not impossible that even from tribes of insignificant
insects, which are generally viewed with disgust or
contemptuous indifference, we may learn something
useful.
Among human beings, although each family usu-
ally has a house to itself, it often happens, where there
is comparatively little space and a large number of
people living together, several families reside in one
building. Indeed, in the more crowded districts of
large cities more than one family live on the same
floor, and there is often at least one separate family
in each and every room. There are other reasons
INTRODUCTORY. 3
than want of space that make it necessary for a num-
ber of people to have a common home and live together
under one roof; where there is danger to be feared
from attacks by hostile tribes, or where mutual help or
great economy of labor can be secured, as in the case
of soldiers in their barracks, or workmen employed in
some large factory, the same banding together of fami-
lies is to be found.
This association of numbers of individuals into
societies, much more closely bound together by ties
of mutual interest than are any composed of human
beings, is found to some extent among birds and mam-
mals, but oftener and in far greater perfection among
insects.
Australian sea-horse.
4 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
WORLD-BUILDERS.
THE LEAST THE GREATEST.
There is an animal called wimwba which is with-
out doubt the strangest creature known. It looks
like a speck or tiny drop of jelly; even when seen
through a powerful microscope it still appears noth-
ing more than a lifeless bit of slime; and yet it is a
living, moving animal that pursues and captures and
devours its prey, and seems to have a mind and will
of its own, and to enjoy life as much as many crea-
tures fully provided with parts and members. When,
for instance, the amceba wants to take a walk, its
lack of legs does not trouble it, for it simply pushes
them out of its body, as many as it requires, makes
them as long or as short as it chooses, and sets out
merrily on its way. Do not think for a moment,
however, that the Amceba uses its legs to walk on.
No, this creature is unlike other animals in every-
thing it does. Instead of crawling like a worm or
snail, it flows, for you must not forget it is a sort of
liquid animal, and is different from other living things
in this, as in all else; the substance of its body runs
into the parts it has thrown out, as water or ink flows
and fills splashes down the lid of a desk or other
slanting surface. How it can flow itself in this way
along a level, or even up an inclined plane, as it does,
is more than any one has yet been able to find out.
WORLD-BUILDERS. 5
When it has in this way run its entire contents
into its false feet—or pseudopodia, as men of science
call the splashes it sends forward—and collected its
Ameeba flowing over and devouring microscopic animal.
whole substance in the place taken by its advanced
parts, it again pushes out psewdopodia, and in this
way glides slowly along.
Perhaps the strangest part of the life story of this
animal is the way it breaks itself into little bits, and
from being one animal becomes many. When this
remarkable change is about to happen, the ameba
ceases to move, puts on a thick crust or covering, and
turns into a number of little balls, each able to live
by itself; presently the covering bursts, and each
little ball becomes a perfect amceba; though some-
times they all conclude to grow together again and
become one animal, in which case, whether or not the
6 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
last animal is the same one that burst to pieces it
would indeed be hard to say.
Sometimes, however, these curious little creatures
build themselves habitations as light, fragile, and
delicate as frost crystals. The species that do this
live in sea water. Many of their homes are shaped
like flasks ; some appear, when magnified, like the gem
fruits that Aladdin found in the magic caverns; some
look like tiny jewel beads, others grow in elegant
spirals—in short, the variety of their forms and dec-
orated surfaces seems inexhaustible. Thousands of
living and fossil species have been distinguished by
naturalists. Nothing relating to these bits of living
jelly is quite so wonderful or important as the part
they take in building up the earth.
Once upon a time, as old stories begin—though
just how long ago no one can tell, for, if we are to be-
lieve geologists, countless centuries have passed since
the vast ancient oceans contained a large per cent of
lime and also unnumbered populations of shell-bear-
ing amcebee—all of these minute animals were for
ages and ages constantly employed in building their
pretty little dwellings from the lime they took from
the water in which they lived. Billions of billions,
vast numbers, too great for human conception, of
generations followed each other in brief succession,
their corruptible parts disappeared, and their shells
falling in a never-ending shower upon the _bot-
tom of the ocean, in its shallower parts, built the
islands and continents of a primitive world, in what
geologists call the Cretaceous or Chalk period. It is
WORLD-BUILDERS. q
said the shells fell to the bottom of the ocean in its
shallower parts, because at the greater depths of the
ocean the sea water through which they gradually sink
to the distant ocean floor dissolves the delicate shells
and gets back the lime of which it was robbed by the
living animals before their empty houses can collect
at the bottom; so that soundings at great sea depths
show no trace of foraminifera, as these tiny house-
builders are called.
Latticed infusoria.
8 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ISLAND-BUILDERS.
WHERE THEY GROW.
There is a wonderful country under the sea—a
country of hills and plains, of lofty mountains and
deep valleys, of rocks and caves. Its widespreading
meadows are covered with strange animal flowers
Sea squirts.
that sway to and fro
in search of living
prey, and its forests
consist of branching
corals and seaweeds
taller than the tallest
trees. Tempests may
rage fiercely above,
but a deep, unbroken
silence and tranquil-
lity reign always in
this under world ; nor
can the wildest tem-
pest that wrecks the
strongest vessels move
the delicate tendrils
of the sea plants in
the depths below.
Fragile creatures of
untold loveliness, that fall to pieces almost at a touch,
here spend their lives in quiet and security. The
ISLAND-BUILDERS, 9
ocean depths, which for mankind are regions of
breathlessness and death, are for myriads of animals
the region of life and health.
The earth does not maintain nearly so many living
creatures as swarm in countless multitudes beneath the
LM iat
Grassfish.
waves of the ocean. Here grow the quaint-looking
sea squirts; here the strange sea spiders pass their
lives in the greatest depths of the ocean; here swim
the fish which are to the world of waters what birds
are to the upper world; the quaintest and most eccen-
tric of creatures, as the sea horses, the grassfish, and
3
10 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
others, and the most beautiful and brilliant, the cheeto-
donts and the so-called dolphins, the corypheenoids ;
and here the rare and beautiful corals are silently
builded into reefs and islands.
Carysfort lighthouse.
If it should ever be your good fortune to go to
Florida and visit the Keys at the southern end of the
State, you may see a coral plantation alive and grow-
ing. There is a famous lighthouse, called Carysfort
ISLAND-BUILDERS. 11
Light, off the coast here, from which such a sight can
be had. Carysfort Light is built in the open sea, with-
out a foot of land about it. It is an iron framework
of columns, strengthened by a network of braces and
girders, and the rooms in which the keeper lives are
about halfway up to the light, out of reach of the
waves, forty or fifty feet above the water. A balcony
runs about these rooms, and as the lighthouse is built
over one of the most beautiful and extensive fields of
coral on this or any other coast, the view presented
on looking from this baleony is more wonderful than
can well be imagined by one who has not seen it.
The coral field spreads out around the lighthouse
as far as the eye can reach, and so transparent is the
water that the ocean bottom can be seen as plainly as
a garden lying beneath. The coral field is largely
made up of what are called leaf corals, with great
flat branches that grow one above another. Myriads
of fish play among these spreading branches, chasing
each other singly and in companies, darting about,
winding in and out the corals as if in a game of hide-
and-go-seek. Most of them are of very brilliant colors,
some of them of the most intense azure blue, others
bright blue and glossy black ; others, again, black band-
ed with gold; and still others of a clear canary-yellow
beneath and a complementary rich purple above. Now
and then a large fish—a shark, perhaps—passes by, and
all the small fry scatter among the corals and are seen
no more until their enemy is out of sight. Besides the
leaf corals there are many more still more beautiful
to be seen. Some are shaped like huge vases; others
12 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
branch out as do the horns of a stag, or still more deli-
cately into fine tendrils like a plant; and there are
great numbers of gorgeously col-
ored sea fans. The sea fans form
the shrubbery of this ocean gar-
den; they stand on the sea bot-
tom on a sort of root, and, unlike
the leaf and branching corals,
which are rigid and motionless,
they rise and fall lightly in the
water and wave in the gentle un-
dercurrents as if stirred by a
breeze. They are of many colors,
Hydroids. and mingled, as they are, with a
sort of vegetable coral called coral-
line, and with the bright purple, carmine red, and
orange-colored sponges of the Florida coast, you may
well realize in looking at them how surpassingly beau-
tiful are the flower gardens of the sea.
CORAL POLYPS.
HOW THEY GROW.
It is to give some idea of the appearance of a field
of growing coral in its natural condition that the fore-
going description has been written; but the individ-
ual coral animal, and the home it makes for itself, in
so doing contributing its mite to the building up of
CORAL POLYPS. 13
islands and continents, the abode of the human race,
is no less worthy of attention. The two tiny creatures
—one almost microscopic in size, the foraminifera,
S
Prine Ik
Living coral.
and the other not very
much larger, the coral :
polyps—are the most Coral polyp, open and closed.
important of all the
home makers among the lower animals, for without
them man nor beast could scarce have found rest for
the soles of their feet.
The coral animal begins life as a free-swimming, lit-
tle worm-like creature, called a planula. It is covered
with cilia or bristles, which by their continual motion
act as paddles or oars, and enable the planula to pro-
gress through the water. After a time the creature set-
tles down, and, fastening itself to a rock or a piece of
dead coral by its larger end, begins to live like a vege-
table rather than an animal, having lost the power of
14 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
locomotion, and being fixed for life to the spot to which
it is attached. It now alters its shape, and develops
eight tiny buttonlike projections about the fore end
that contains the mouth, and soon grows a row of
fringed feelers or tentacles like petals, becoming s0
much like a blossom in appearance that up to a com-
paratively recent time they were supposed to be the
flowers of some sea plant. From the stalk of this little
anemone-like creature buds put forth, soon showing a
mouth like that of their parent, and around these grow
tentacles, so that the solitary little polyps becomes a
cluster of coral animals. Besides these two modes of
increasing and multiplying, corals have a third and
more remarkable one, in which, however contradictory
it may seem, the sum total of the coral colony is in-
creased and multiplied by being divided, the animals
splitting themselves up, and each and every portion
becoming a perfect animal.
One of the main differences between a coral polyp
and an anemone is, that the former has the power of
continually depositing at its base little particles of
carbonate of lime, and of thus building a base or sup-
port for its house. The polyp does not do this con-
sciously or purposely, or has it any more will in the
matter than we do in growing our bones; but, to use
a fashionable phrase of the day, “he is the instrument
of a great work.” Year by year his skeletons accu-
mulate, all cemented together in one mass, until after
countless centuries a great reef is formed and a new
land begun, which, but for the part he took in making
it, would never have existed.
HUMAN CAVE-DWELLERS. 15
HUMAN CAVE-DWELLERS.
HOW THEY LIVED.
There is an old story of an Indian who, being
asked how he could endure severe weather without
clothing, replied that white men exposed their un-
covered faces to the cold without discomfort, and that
an Indian’s body is all face. The primitive man has
little use for furnace-heated rooms from which all
fresh air is excluded, or for garments to bind and
constrain the free movement of body or limb. His
house is often as slight and temporary as the nests of
some of the birds or the lairs of beasts, and however
much we may despise him for going unclothed and liv-
ing in rude huts, it can not be better to have to depend
upon elaborate and expensive dwellings and garments,
and all sorts of artificial protection from the climate
in which we live, to make us comfortable.
The simplest huts constructed by savages are invis-
ible, and confer the same property upon those who in-
habit them. It sometimes happens that all the men of
a tribe of native Australians leave their women and
children and go off on an expedition, perhaps to
attack some neighboring tribe. ‘“ These,” says a
writer on the subject, “knowing they might be
pounced upon by enemies who would take advantage
of the absence of their defenders, retire into the re-
cesses of the woods, where they build the oddest
16 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
houses imaginable, half burrows scraped among the
roots of trees and half huts made of bark and decayed
wood.”
These habitations so much resemble the natural
formation of the ground about them that no one but
a native can discover them—even the more perma-
nent dwelling places of these people always oceupy-
ing some out-of-the-way place where the surround-
ings harmonize as closely as possible with the shelter
that, rude as it is, answers all their needs. Very many
centuries ago—just how long no one can now pretend
to say——all western Europe seems to have been in-
habited by races of savage men who lived in caves,
and are consequently called cave-dwellers. They
were very far behind the cliff-dwellers in civilization.
They could neither spin nor weave, make baskets or
pottery. They do not seem to have altered the shape
or proportion of the caverns in which they dwelt to
make them more comfortable, or even to have built
chimneys or made openings for the escape of the
smoke of their fires. The most we can credit them
with is a rough lean-to, as it is called, formed perhaps
of logs and bark propped up against the side of a rock
or bank.
These ancient people are believed to have dressed
in the skins of beasts, and to have employed such
rude skill as they possessed in the formation of stone
spear and arrow heads, hatchets, flint knives, and the
like. Indeed, as far as ascertained, they appear to
have lived much as the native American Indians in
the northeastern part of the continent, by hunting.
HUMAN CAVE-DWELLERS, 17
Many of the beasts they hunted are no longer found
upon the earth. The great hairy mammoth and early
elephant, much larger than any now existing, together
with the hippopotamus and the rhinoceros, roamed
through the valleys and along the rivers, and enor-
mous bears and tigers preyed upon them. These
early savages were cannibals, but besides the chase
lived principally upon shellfish. Great heaps of shells
of the mollusks they lived upon are yet found, as
well as the charred bones of the beasts they ate.
The rudest form of habitation next to a natural
cave is a burrow, and the first advance toward civili-
zation on the part of the cave-dwellers seems to have
been the construction of underground habitations.
Some of these still exist in England, Scotland, and
other parts of Europe. Many are little better than
mere holes in the earth; such are the dugouts made
in the sides of hills by emigrants to Kansas, New
Mexico, and California, but most of these are only de-
signed for temporary use, and are abandoned for more
comfortable cabins as soon as such can be built. The
natives of cold countries often construct subterranean
or partly subterranean dwellings, seeking refuge from
the intense cold winds that prevail on the surface;
and the natives of tropical lands have frequently done
the same thing to escape the intense heat above-
ground.
18 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
BIRDS THAT MAKE EDIBLE NESTS.
FEATHERED CAVE-DWELLERS.
Among the lower animals the most notable of cave-
dwellers are perhaps the swallows, and the species
most worthy the name the two varieties of esculent
swallow from whose nests the celebrated bird’s-nest
soup of the Chinese is made. The birds inhabit the
Sunda Islands, Ceylon, Borneo, Java, ete. The nests
are built against the sides of steep, cavernous cliffs,
so that collecting them is an extremely perilous un-
dertaking. They are attached to the face of the
rocks much as are the mud-built habitations of the
common swallow. These strange nests, however, are
constructed in a manner that finds no parallel in the
bird kingdom. A number of creatures other than
spiders secrete a viscid fluid from which they form
threads for the capture of prey or the building of
nests. Among fish, the stickleback and the anten-
narias bind together the materials that form their
nests with glutinous cords drawn from their bodies ;
but among birds the only instance of the kind known
is the esculent swallow.
When about to lay the foundation of her future
home, the glands under her tongue, which at this time
are so distended as to form two large swellings, give
out the sticky fluid of which her nest is composed.
The bird presses her tongue, which answers to the
BIRDS THAT MAKE EDIBLE NESTS. 19
spinnerets of the spider, against the rock that is to
serve as a support, and then going back a few steps
draws out a long, gummy thread, which dries and
hardens very rapidly. This she forms into a sort of
web by turning her head from side to side, making
the undulating lines that appear in these remarkable
structures. The process is continued until the nest has
attained the required shape and dimensions. When
completed it is about the size and shape of a quarter
of an eggshell of the domestic fowl, divided along
its entire length. There are two sorts, construct-
ed by two species of the bird. That of the true
esculent swallow called Salangene is as white and
clean and translucent as porcelain, and is very highly
valued; that of the other species, called Kusappi, is
brown, and mixed with feathers, grass, and other for-
eign substances, and is but little esteemed. Mr. H.
Pryer gives the following account of the breeding
places and nests of the esculent swallow in northern
Borneo:
“ After a rest I ascended the cliff about four hun-
dred feet; the ascent is quite perpendicular; in many
places ladders are erected, and in others the water-
worn surface of the limestone gives a foothold. At
this point I found myself at the mouth of a cave called
- the White Cave; the entrance is about forty feet high
by sixty feet wide, and descends very steeply, widen-
ing out to a great size, and having a perpendicular
unexplored abyss at its farthest point. This cave is
used by the nest gatherers as their dwelling place, and
at the entrance are their platforms of sticks, one of
90 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
which was placed at my disposal by the head man ; it
is also the cave at which the great body of swifts (escu-
lent swallows) enter. At a quarter to 6 p.m. the
swifts began to enter the White Cave. A few had
been flying in and out all day long, but now they
began to pour in, at first in tens and then in hundreds.
They continued flying in until after midnight, as I
could still see them flashing by over my head when I
went to sleep. As long as it remained light I found
it impossible to catch any with my butterfly net, but
after dark it was only necessary to wave the net in the
air to secure as many as I wanted. Nevertheless, they
must possess wonderful powers of sight to fly about
in the dark in the most obscure recesses of the cave,
and to return unerringly to their nests, often built in
places where no light ever penetrates. Arising be-
fore daylight I witnessed a reversal of the proceed-
ings of the previous night, the swifts now going out
of the White Cave.
“Jn this cave I saw the nest gatherers at work
getting in their crop. A thin rattan ladder was
fixed at the end of along pole and wedged against
the rock. Two men were on the ladder. One ecar-
ried a long four-pronged spear, a lighted candle be-
ing fixed to it a few inches below the prongs. By
the aid of this light a suitable nest is found and trans-
fixed with the prongs; a slight twist detaches the
nest unbroken from the rock ; the spear is then with-
drawn until its head is within the reach of the second
man, who takes the nest off the prongs and places it in
a pouch carried at his waist. The nests of best quality
THE MOLE. a1
are bound in packages with strips of rattan, the in-
ferior being simply strung together. The best pack-
ages generally weigh one catty (one and a third
pounds), averaging forty nests, and are sold at nine
dollars each, the annual value of the nests gathered
being about twenty-five thousand dollars. These
caves have been worked for seven generations with-
out any diminution in the quantity. Three crops are
taken during the year.”
THE MOLE.
HOW HE WORKS.
Air, earth, and water, which in ancient times were
called the three elements, each have their proper in-
habitants. Of these the air offers the least resistance
to progress through it, and the least support to bodies
entirely surrounded by it. In consequence of this,
birds are the swiftest of animals, but they are obliged
at intervals to alight and rest upon something more
substantial than the atmosphere through which they
fly. Next to the birds, fish swimming in the water
move forward with the greatest rapidity, nor do they
need any more material support than the fluid in
which they live. Men and beasts upon the surface
of the ground, and thus not living entirely surrounded
by any one element, are slower than birds or fish, but
can make more rapid progress than animals that live
entirely in the earth, as do moles, mole rats, echidnas,
92 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ete., though these underground creatures are able to
burrow their way through the soil with greater ra-
pidity than may be imagined. Indeed, so swift is the
progress through the soil of some species of the mole
family, that,-placed upon the ground, they sink into
it as if it were quicksand, and make such rapid prog-
ress that the most expert spadesman can not catch
them.
There are, indeed, many animals that dig lairs and
dens and nests underground in which they rest and
bring up their little ones; but the mole, although he
has the most curiously planned and carefully con-
structed subterranean dwelling place of them all, does
not confine himself to it, but goes rambling off in any
direction he chooses through the solid earth, almost
as a fish swims in water. Perhaps he sets out to call
upon a friend, or to hunt for the earthworms that are
his staff of life, but, at any rate, by the exercise of
some sense or faculty of which we human creatures
know nothing, he finds less difficulty in making his
way to any given locality and back again to his home
than we sometimes do with the aid of our eyes and
broad daylight to help us.
Have you ever watched laborers digging a cellar—
how hard they have to work to make any appreciable
progress? Let us do a little sum in simple propor-
tion—single rule of three it used to be called in the
country school I attended. A mole is to a man as
a molehill is to the work a mole could do if he were
as big as aman; or, mole: man :: molehill.; and the
answer is a space excavated, measuring about twelve
THE MOLE. 23
by twenty feet. In other words, if we had tame
moles of the average bulk and stature of human
beings, we could set one to work and he would dig a
cellar for us twelve feet deep and twenty feet square
in the time it takes a mole to make his hill. But I
doubt if it would pay very well to keep him, even
though he might do more work than a patent steam
excavator. Of cotirse, we could not expect to feed
him on grubs and worms, which are his natural ali-
ment in his present diminutive proportions. We
would have to substitute boa constrictors twenty feet
long, and, so fearful is his voracity, he would require
at least twenty-five or more of these huge serpents
every day. But as he is perhaps the very fiercest as
well as the most ravenous of mammals, it would with-
out doubt be impossible to tame him at all. With a
few blows of his enormously powerful claws he could
tear an elephant in pieces, and his insatiable lust of
slaughter would lead him to kill every living thing he
encountered. A mole like the lad in the fairy tale,
who could not learn to shiver and shake, does not in
the least know what fear is, and in his combats with
other moles shows a fury and fiery energy that nothing
can surpass.
24 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
THE HOME OF THE MOLE.
HOW IT IS BUILT.
The home of the mole is very strangely contrived,
and knowing as little as we do of his life underground
is unaccountable. Under the top and center of the
molehill, so deeply buried as to be on a level with
the earth’s surface, about the hill is a hollow like
the inside of a globe. This spherical apartment is
girt about with two circular tunnels: one, in the
accompanying illustration, above the apartment ; and
the other is level with the ceiling. From this lower
circular gallery ascend five passages at equal dis-
tances apart to the upper one, and from this again
descend three short passages opening into the ceiling
of the central spherical apartment. In getting into
this last-named chamber a mole has first to enter the
lower cireular passageway, ascend to the upper one—-
which, by the way, is much smaller than the lower—
and then again descend before reaching his destina-
tion. There is, however, a lower passage that, lead-
ing directly from one of the larger highways or tun-
nels, descends in a curve, and then ascending opens
into the floor of the central chamber. None of the
main passages—there are seven or eight of them lead-
ing out in different directions from the lower central
gallery—ever open upon it opposite one of the en-
trances into the upper gallery.
THE HOME OF THE MOLE. 9%
The earth that forms the walls of these galleries is
always firm, hard, and smooth, from the continual
pressure of the mole’s fur in passing through them, so
that the severest rain, though the moisture penetrates
aati. pee “\ y
= cman
Sa SSS." tesprarainty “Aeerccantiaes
=
: SRR
and permeates the whole molehill, will not cause them
to break or cave in. As no known enemy can pene-
trate the passageways made by the mole—and if one
could, the mole would in all probability prove more
than a match for any animal small enough to do so,
4
26 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
or, if worsted in the battle, might plunge into un-
known depths of solid earth—the use of all this com-
plicated arrangement of tunnel is extremely problem-
atical, especially as the central chamber, it seems, is not
used as a retreat or sleeping place or nursery. The
mole usually sleeps about three hours, and is awake
for the same length of time, without regard to day or
night, but he sleeps in the passageways. The nursery
is a large chamber excavated where several passages
meet, so that, perhaps, if danger threatens, the mother
mole and her little ones can the more easily escape in
any direction along a ready-made tunnel.
There is a peculiarity about the fur of a mole that
keeps it clean and glossy, no matter how much: its
wearer covers it with loose soil or burrows in loam
or clay. The hairs when they issue from the skin are
very slender, thickening gradually as they extend,
and then tapering off again and again, thickening
throughout their entire length. This enables them
to lie evenly in any direction, backward or forward,
so that they always present a smooth, unbroken sur-
face to the soil with which they come in contact. The
mole, passing almost all its life in complete darkness,
is popularly supposed to be without eyes ; in fact, they
are so very minute and so entirely hidden in its fur,
and probably possess such imperfect power of vision,
that they are comparatively of small account in the
animal’s physical make-up or his economy of life.
Though he has no more visible ears than eyes, for
external ears would soon become choked up with
earth, he is amply provided with the means both of
AN OBJECT OF SUPERSTITION. ye
hearing and smelling—senses that in its peculiar situ-
ation are far more useful and important than sight.
AN OBJECT OF SUPERSTITION.
AN ANT-EATER IN ARMOR.
As feathers are a distinguishing mark of birds,
and scales or plates of solid substance of reptiles and
fishes, so hair is generally supposed to constitute the
natural covering of mammals; but in the pango-
Scaly pangolin, ant-eater in armor.
lin we have an animal that at first sight must sure-
ly be mistaken for a reptile, not only because it re-
sembles one in shape and general appearance, but
because it is clothed with scales. The armadilloes,
98 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
it is true, substitute a bony for a hairy covering, but
even they—because some species are partly covered
with hair, others have prominent ears, and all that
possess tails show a marked division where these ap-
pendages join the body—do not suggest reptiles as
forcibly as do the pangolins.
Like the aard-vark, a description of whose habits
answers equally well for that of the pangolin, the
species of strange animal here shown lives in South
Africa. They range from two to nearly five feet long.
The scales with which their body, limbs, and tails are
covered are triangular, notched, bluntly angular, or
rounded at the tip; they form a very complete suit of
impenetrable scale armor, and must be of the greatest
possible use to a toothless creature like the one de-
scribed, which has no weapon with which to defend
itself. When surprised outside its burrow the pan-
golin instantly rolls itself into the shape of a ball,
taking particular care to tuck its small head, which is
the only part unarmored, out of harm’s way between
its forelegs, wrapping its tail over it, and offers noth-
ing but an array of sharp-edged scales projecting out-
ward in every direction to the enemy.
The natives regard these animals with supersti-
tious awe, which, however, does not prevent them
from roasting the poor creatures alive as burnt offer-
ings, in order that the powers above may cause the
cattle of the worshiper to thrive and increase in
number. Thus the oddity of the animals in appear-
ance, by awakening superstition, has proved the cause
of their destruction, for they have become very rare
A QUEER-LOOKING GROUND HOG, 29
and difficult to find. In another case, that of the
specter tarsius, the same cause has seemingly worked
an opposite result, for the harmless but dreaded little
specters owe their safety to the fact that the natives
fear to approach them.
A QUEER-LOOKING GROUND HOG.
HOW HE LIVES AND WHAT HE LIVES ON.
Among burrowing animals none are more strangely
constructed than the aard-vark or ground hog of
southern Africa. At first, as he sits with rounded
A queer-looking ground hog.
back, his long ears projecting over his shoulders, he
looks like a gigantic hare, but he has the broad, thick
tail of a kangaroo; his long, conical head and small
eyes remind one of a pig, but he has long, flattened
claws, five on the hind limbs and four on the front,
30 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
and he walks on the bottom of his feet like a bear.
His light, pinkish skin, sparsely covered with bristles,
again suggests the pig ; but the mouth has only a small
opening, and as a long, worm-shaped tongue, coated
with a slimy secretion, makes its appearance, the crea-
ture is seen to belong to that strange group of mam-
mals called ant-eaters.
Like all animals of this sort, he sleeps through the
day and seeks lis food at night. His burrows, though
they do not penetrate far below the surface, are of
considerable extent and dimensions; they are often
two or more feet in diameter and three or four feet
deep before they branch off into the large chamber
which forms the sleeping apartment and nursery
where the little ones are born and reared. Here the
animal retreats in time of danger, and although one
of the largest of burrowing animals, the aard-vark can
work its way through the earth as rapidly as a mole,
and when pursued can dig so fast as to disappear be-
neath the surface before his pursuers can approach
near enough to seize him, and can burrow through the
ground more quickly than his enemies can shovel out
the soil after him. Indeed, his claws and limbs, though
not proportionately as strong as those of the mole, are
most admirably adapted to his manner of life. The
claws, which are long, strong, and hollowed out on
their under surfaces, diminish in size from the inner
to the outermost toe—a peculiar formation that, taken
in connection with the moderate curve they make from
root to point, without doubt greatly facilitates burrow-
ing. Moreover, the strength of the aard-vark is su?-
A QUEER-LOOKING GROUND HOG. 31
ficient to successfully resist the efforts of two or even
three men to drag him from his hole.
It seems difficult to believe that so large an ani-
mal subsists entirely upon ants, and yet the fact can
not bedoubted. Indeed, nothing gives a more graphic
idea of the innumerable hosts of ants and termites, or
so-called white ants, in the country the aard-vark in-
habits, than that, notwithstanding the enormous sup-
ply required by one of these animals even for a single
meal, the ants do not decrease in number.
In certain sections of the country, not in the
regions of the grassy downs or where it is dry and
woody, but where the ground is too barren to sustain
anything more succulent than the so-called sour grass
(worthless for grazing purposes), gather the nest-build-
ing ants, and erect mounds that may well, at a little
distance off, be taken for the huts of the natives,
being for the most part from three to seven feet in
height and of much the same shape as the dwelling
places of the negroes. Like some enormous city of
native Africans, these hutlike hills cover the plain as
far as the eye can reach, a city of cities, for every
mound contains within itself thousands upon thou-
sands of inhabitants.
Here at night, fatal as some deadly pestilence,
comes the silent aard-vark, breaks down the strongly
built walls of the marvelous habitations that are
capable of sustaining without injury the weight of a
buffalo, and attacks the dismayed inhabitants. Forth
stream the civic guard, the soldier caste, the defenders
of the city; but how useless the powerful mandibles
32 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
they brandish, or the devoted courage that leads them
to face inevitable death in defense of their homes and
kindred. The author of death and destruction thrusts
his slimy tongue among them, which, having once
touched, they, adhere, and draws whole armies into
his mouth at a time. None can escape; the wonder-
ful communal dwelling, with all its busy multitudes,
is left a desolate and empty ruin, a hiding place for
the jackal, a den of serpents, or a ready-made grave
for a dead native.
DOGS THAT ARE NOT DOGS.
HOW THEY LIVE.
The prairie dog does not in the least look like a
dog, act as a dog acts, or eat what a dog eats. In
fact, the prairie dog is not a dog at all, but a little
animal that looks like a small woodchuck, belonging
to the squirrel or marmot family. He is probably
called a dog because of his sharp, barking ery. Prairie
dogs build villages, towns, and sometimes what may
be called large cities, since one may sometimes travel
for hours through their long streets or pathways be-
fore reaching the end of the space inhabited by them.
“The hillocks everywhere,” says Professor Gill, in the
admirable description he gives of prairie dog towns,
“has each its tenant half upright at the mouth of his
hole, with his paws folded down, vociferating his cu-
riosity or displeasure, and, on too near approach, duck-
‘sS0p oliwig
34 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ing down like an automaton on springs, with a saucy
‘good-by—I have business’ flirt of the tail. These
sharp cries are incessant. As each note is emitted
the body shakes, the tail jerks, the whole performance
being Indicrously like that of a toy barking dog, which |
squeaks and drops its jaw as you press the bellows.” *
Bushels of earth are thrown out at the mouth of
every burrow and heaped into mounds two or three
feet in diameter and about two feet high. These are to
serve as posts of observation, as well as to prevent the
nests being filled with water in stormy weather. Be-
fore and after a shower the little citizens may be seen
gathering and inspecting the banks about their homes
to see that everything is in a proper shape, and scratch-
ing up and patting down parts that need repairing.
Although no notices of “rooms to let” appear,
the owners of many of the burrows are obliged, much
against their will probably, to entertain lodgers who,
instead of paying rent, exact cruel tribute of their
hosts. These objectionable intruders consist of rat-
tlesnakes and burrowing owls, the latter scarcely as
large as a quail, who live with, and also live on, their
poor little prairie dog hosts, devouring both them and
their children. In the rattlesnake, especially, the
prairie dogs have a deadly foe, for neither by day or
at night are they secure from his attack. Their deep
nests softly bedded with dry, warm grass, are admi- -
rably adapted to his ease and comfort, and with his bed
is furnished delicate food, the flesh of the baby dogs.
* Standard Natural History.
DOGS THAT ARE NOT DOGS. 35
Sometimes, however, the snake gets worsted, is bitten
by the little animals in their desperation, and dies along
with those he has struck with his poisoned fangs.
Owls and serpents are not, however, the only ene-
mies prairie dogs have to encounter. Hawks swoop
down from the sky above upon them, and the coyote
or prairie wolf lies hidden behind their hillocks in
wait forthem. One way of escape from their numer-
ous enemies is to be found in the great complexity
and extent of their burrows underground, rendering it
impossible even for man either to dig or drown them
out. Many of the towns of the prairie dog are built
in sterile and arid plains far from water, and it was
supposed the little animals could, like guinea pigs, do
without water, but when domesticated they drink
often and freely; and it is now maintained that the
dogs actually dig wells, each community being sup-
plied with one that has a concealed entrance.
Compass plant, that grows in the
vicinity of prairie dogs’ village,
and whose leaves always
Oe extend east and west.
36 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
BANK BURROWERS.
TWO KINDS OF MUSKRATS.
The Indians used to call the muskrat the beaver’s
younger brother, both because it was smaller, built
houses, but not quite so skillfully as the latter animal,
and because it resembles the beaver so much in its
habits of life. We are apt to accuse the Chinese and
several other nations of a repulsive diet because they
are said to eat rats, but many folks among our own
people eat muskrats and are very fond of them; and
the muskrat really is, as its name implies, a rat, a
water rat, though, to be sure, a very large one, for
he grows to be a foot in length. He occasionally
builds himself a house of mud, strengthened and cov-
ered with reeds and strips. This house contains a
single apartment, from one and a half to two feet in
diameter, furnished with a bed of soft grass and
sedges, and is entered by a passage that opens under
the surface of the water. In this chamber the musk-
rat spends the winter.
A member of still another family—and not only of
another family but of another order, which is a much
wider distinction—is called a muskrat because it gives
out, like the muskrat, a strong, musky odor, and is an
aquatic animal. The tail is scaly, like that of a
beaver, and flattened up and down (vertically) instead
of sideways (horizontally), as in that of the animal
BANK BURROWERS. 37
just mentioned. The desman is one of those cases
that occasionally occur in the animal kingdom where
an animal belonging to one family resembles very
closely in its habits another belonging to another
family.
Like the muskrat, he generally has his dwelling in
the bank of a stream in which he disports himself ;
it consists of a chamber with numerous passages, all
of which open under the surface of the water. The
burrows he makes in the banks of streams and ponds
are almost exactly like those dug by the muskrat, con-
sisting, as they do, of long passages opening at one
end under the surface of the water, and the other into
a chamber three or four feet above the water level.
Its name, desman, is probably from a Swedish word
meaning musk. It is not quite as large an animal as
our muskrat, but somewhat resembles it in the shape
of its body and the character of its fur, which is very
close and dense, consisting of a coat of fine hairs next
the skin and longer hairs that cover them, making a
beautiful waterproof garment, ashy gray beneath and
reddish brown, showing a silver luster in certain
lights above.
The desman is hunted for its fur, but, unlike the
former animal, it is never eaten. It has a rather
peculiarly shaped tail, narrowed at the root, almost
cylindrical for some distance, and then flattened from
about the middle to the end. Neither the beaver nor
the muskrat uses its tail otherwise than as a rudder,
but the desman employs his as an oar, by means of
which he sculls himself along, and, as might be
88 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
expected, aided by his powerful webbed feet, excels
both the beaver and the muskrat in the rapidity and
force, both in swimming and diving, of his progress
through the water.
The most curious part of the desman is his mov-
able trunk. It is, it is true, shorter in proportion to
the size of the animal than that of an elephant’s, but
it seems to be used much in the same way and for
the same purpose.
“Tt is brought actively into play,” says Professor
Dallas, “in the search for provisions. It is turned
and twisted in various directions, touching the differ-
ent objects that come in its way, which it seizes and
conveys to its mouth after the same fashion as does
the trunk of an elephant. The animal is said to fre-
quently put its ridiculous-looking trunk in its mouth
and then quack like a duck,” but why it commits this
absurdity is not stated. So strongly is the desman
flavored with the musky odor that gives it its popular
name, that it is not only uneatable itself, but commu-
nicates a like smell and flavor to fish that sometimes
devour it. The desman does not eat vegetable sub-
stances, but lives entirely upon insects.
A LITTLE QUADRUPED THAT LAYS EGGS. 39
A LITTLE QUADRUPED THAT LAYS EGGS.
WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE,
If the question arises which of the mammals liv-
ing at the present day—taking into consideration its
habits, outward shape, and anatomical construction—
is the most extraordinary, the decision might hang in
doubt a long time but for the existence of one animal
so singular in appearance, so strange in its physical
makeup, and in some, at least, of its habits, that the
answer must of necessity name it and no other. This
is the Australian duckbill. To the head, bill, and
webbed feet of a duck it seems to unite the body
and tail of a quadruped ; and to more distinctly mark
its birdlike affinities, it lays eggs—a fact formerly
doubted, but now known to be true.
It has other birdlike peculiarities of structure
united to some that suggest the reptile tribes. One
very singular formation, the like of which, with one
exception, is possessed by no other animal, is a sharp-
ly pointed movable spur on the heels of the hind feet
of the males. A canal, as it is called, or empty vein,
runs from a little opening near the point of the spur
back to a passage that leads to a large gland situated
in the thigh. The whole apparatus is so like in its
structure that of the poison gland and tooth of a ven-
omous snake as to hint at a similar use and purpose,
and there is proof that it sometimes, though not often,
40 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
is employed in this way. It is known that one per-
son at least has been wounded and very severely
poisoned with the spur of a captured duckbill.*
Duckbills do not travel about much on dry land;
their legs are much too short to make rapid progress
in that way possible, but they can swim very rapidly
both on and under the surface of the pools and
streams they frequent. Their nests, sometimes fifty
feet from the mouth of the passage that leads to
them, are situated in the banks of the stream or
pool, in which they spend most of their time. These
nests are placed in a cavity hollowed out for the pur-
pose, and are formed of dried plants. The passage
leading to them, besides being long, is very crooked,
bending and twisting in every direction, as if to dis-
courage any one following its windings in an attempt
to discover the place where the eggs are laid and
the little family of from one to four nestlings are
reared. The young duckbills when first hatched are
entirely naked, like baby mice, and their bills are very
short and broad, with smooth, fleshy edges. When
they sleep they have, in common with the old ones,
a curious habit of rolling themselves up into tight
little balls that look like anything rather than living
animals. When taken they soon become very tame.
A gentleman who kept several of them for pets says:
“Tn a few days the young ones appeared to recog-
nize a call, swimming rapidly to my hand as I paddled
* Mr. Spicer, as related in the Proceedings of the Royal Society
of Tasmania for 1876, p. 162.
THE PORCUPINE ANT-EATER. 41
it about in the water; and it is curious to see them
attempt to get at a worm inclosed in the hand, which
they take very greedily when it is offered to them. I
have noticed they seem to be able to smell whether I
have a worm in my closed hand or not, as they swim
up to it, for they desist from their efforts if an empty
fist is offered them.” Their natural food consists
mainly of fresh-water shrimps, water fleas, and beetles.
The appearance of a duckbill does not lead to the
belief that he is a burrower, but his fore quarters are
very strong, and well braced with powerful bones.
The burrows he digs have two entrances—one well
hidden amid plants above the surface, and the other
opening below the surface of the water. The nests
are always placed above high-water mark, so the wise
little animal is never drowned in his burrow by a
sudden rise of water.
THE PORCUPINE ANT-EATER.
ANOTHER EGG LAYER.
In the bottom of a prickly pear cut four little
flaps, turn them outward, let the fruit rest upon
them, and you have a tolerably accurate representa-
tion of a porcupine ant-eater or echidna. The stem
of the pear is the snout or beak, the flaps the feet.
Tt has no legs worth mentioning, and the prickly body
of the fruit may give you a pretty fair idea of the
remainder of the animal. Possibly two very small
5
42 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
black beads for eyes and a more liberal amount of
prickles might increase the likeness, but otherwise it
is not bad. The bill of a duckbill resembles the beak
of a duck in almost every respect, but the bill of an
echidna looks like that of a snipe or woodcock. The
Echidna.
similarity in this case is, however, only a superficial
one. The bill of the echidna does not open; it isa
mere tube or quill, on the outer end of which is placed
the nostrils, and the little valve or flap that answers
the creature fora mouth. Through it is thrust out
the long, slim tongue, to which stick the ants or what-
ever food it cats.
Its burrows are in the sand, but it also makes
use of the crevices of rocks for its dwelling place.
Tts system of burrowing has never yet been fully in-
vestigated, but in all probability consists—as do those
of most, if not all, mammals that are burrowers—of a
JERBOAS AND JUMPING MICE. 43
complicated system of passages leading from the open
air to the well-hidden chambers where the animals
sleep, and where they have nests for their little ones.
For the echidna is a famous burrower. Set him on
the sand, he gathers his feet under him, sticks his
long nose into the soil, and dives underground like a
mole. His clinging powers are remarkable; digging
his long, powerful nails into the smallest crevices, he
retains his hold with a tenacity that nothing can un-
loose. Like the duckbill, which he resembles in more
than one particular, he has the power of rolling him-
self into a compact ball, which he does when attacked
on ground into which he can not burrow, looking in
that posture like an immense chestnut bur.
Like the duckbill, too, the porcupine ant-eater lays
egos. The eggs are large, and inclosed in a tough
eggshell. After they are laid they are carried in a
pouch in a fold of the skin until they are hatched.
JERBOAS AND JUMPING MICE.
CHAMPION LEAPERS.
Walking about the wooded regions of almost any
State in the Union, a person may chance to see some-
thing like a little brown bird that takes short flights
of from eight to ten feet, and no sooner alights than
it is off again over bogs and bushes until lost to
view. It is, however, not often met in the daytime,
being nocturnal in its habits, and, in consequence,
44 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
extremely difficult to capture. If, indeed, it could be
caught, its captor would probably be somewhat sur-
prised to find that what had been taken was no bird
at all, but a little brown mouse about three inches
long, that had taken its flight without wings by the
aid of its long hind legs. It looks something like a
miniature kangaroo, except that it has a very long
tail. It is, in fact, the American jumping mouse. It
is an elegant, harmless, pretty little creature, living
upon beech nuts and seeds of various kinds.
It makes its nest about half a foot under the sur-
face of the ground, of fine grass, sometimes mingled
with wool, hair, and feathers. In this nest the mother
mouse has from two to four little ones, and it is a
curious circumstance, carrying out to some extent
her kangaroo-like form and habit of life, that she
sometimes is seen with her little family clinging to
her as she leaves her burrow in search of food. Asa
protection from the cold of winter, the jumping mouse
is said to form “a little, hollow clay ball, in which it
coils itself up and goes comfortably to sleep.” Pro-
fessor Tenney found one of these little animals, in
January, tightly coiled up with its long tail wrapped
about it, in a grassy nest two feet underground. It
seemed to be dead, but came to life fast enough when
warmed.
On the vast sandy plains that shut in Egypt on the
west, a part of the Great Sahara Desert, arid and water-
less, and so scantily furnished with vegetation that it
is hard to understand how any living creature can sub-
sist, there are numerous societies of the remarkable
JERBOAS AND JUMPING MICE. 45
little animals called jerboas. In company with a few
species of birds and reptiles, they seem to be the only
inhabitants of this barren and “thirsty land.” Ac-
cording to the accounts given by the Arabs, the exten-
sive and intricate burrows of this animal, consisting,
as they do, of many branched passages dug out in the
hard, dry soil, not far from the surface, are the result
Jerboas.
of the joint exertions of the whole community, which,
if true, is the only case known of any mammal, except
man, building and occupying communal dwellings.
On the least alarm the jerboas vanish into these un-
derground villages, which have many openings, and
here, in the deeper parts, the nests, in which the
46 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
mothers rear their little families of from two to four
jerboas, are made and lined with hair pulled from the
breast of the animal.
In one species rather larger than that describod—
the alactaga, in Central Asia—the animal employs a
stratagem that reminds one of that practiced by the
trap-door spider. Like the African jerboa, it lives in
a perfect tangle of burrows, ending in a large central
chamber, and from this a long passage terminates
close to the surface of the ground, quite a distance
away from the other burrows. No trace of its exist-
ence appears above ground, but let the burrows be
invaded, and away their inmates scuttle through this
passage, break through to the surface of the ground
far away in some place hidden by intervening objects
from the scene of disturbance, and make their escape.
Anything so quaint and odd as the African jerboa
is scarcely to be found. They are distinctively two-
legged animals, more entirely so than any other mam-
mal, monkeys, bears, and kangaroos included, except
man; they never go on all-fours. When they walk
they do so by placing one hind foot alternately before
the other; when they run it is done in the same way
by hastening their steps, and they might readily be
taken at a little distance for small birds. When they
leap they cover such an extraordinary space in pro-
portion to their size, and touch the earth so lightly
and so rapidly between their jumps, that unless it was
known what they really were no one would believe
them anything else than small birds skimming along
the surface of the ground.
}
A FELLOW WITH POCKETS IN HIS CHEEKS. 47
A FELLOW WITH POCKETS IN HIS CIIEEKS.
HOW HE FILLS THEM, AND WHAT HE FILLS THEM WITH.
A gentleman of considerable scientific attainments
once told me that while waiking through a cornfield
in eastern Missouri he was considerably surprised to
see a cornstalk move as of itself, tremble, and slowly
sink bodily into the earth. Not knowing what to
make of such a remarkable phenomena, he hastened to
the spot, and examining the earth where the plant had
vanished he saw a pile of loam or fresh earth that im-
mediately explained the cause of its disappearance : it
had been dragged underground by one of the pouched
gophers so numerous in the valleys of the Mississippi.
“Yes,” said the farmer, the owner of the corn-
stalk that had disappeared, and of the cornfield where
it grew, to whom my friend related the occurrence,
“ves, this is only an instance of the manner in which
pouched gophers rob the farmers. You can’t catch
the rascals at work and scare them off as you can
birds and beasts that belong above ground. Even
if the fields could be watched day and night, and
every living creature that dared to appear were driven
away, the pouched gopher could ruin your crops just
the same. You can’t see what is going on in the
earth under your feet. You may to some extent get
the best of birds and bugs, but you can’t get the ad-
vantage of pouched gophers.”
48 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
They travel long distances under ground, and can
penetrate the soil as. easily as a mole, but, unlike a
mole, they do not live on earthworms; on the con-
trary, they seem to know just where to find the farm-
Pocket gopher and nest.
er’s choicest potatoes, carrots, turnips, and the like,
just as well beneath as we above the surface of the
ground by the aid of our sense of sight. Not content
with eating all they can, they stuff their pockets full
and carry off what they can not eat. Their pockets
are in their cheeks—a couple of large skinny bags that
A FELLOW WITH POCKETS IN HIS CHEEKS. 49
reach back to the shoulders; they have no neck to
speak of. It was once supposed they packed their
cheek pouches with dirt, but they have better use for
them, for by their aid they fill with food the extensive
underground granaries that, in addition to the cham-
bers they in common with most burrowing animals
employ for their nests, they also excavate.
They are wise animals, much better able to take
care of themselves than most four-footed beasts.
You may live a long time in their vicinity without
seeing one, and they are always wide awake if by
any chance they do poke their noses above ground.
They can run quite swiftly considering their rather
clumsy build, and, if caught, can and do bite terribly.
Their yellow front teeth are very large, and capable
of inflicting a fearful wound. The different species
average in size a rather large house rat. Some are
smaller than this; others, again, are as large as a
muskrat. They are, as may be seen in the illustra-
tion, stoutly built, with claws adapted to digging, a
rather short tail, and very small eyes and ears. Their
fur is soft and much like that of a mole.
The bed on which the mother gopher and her
young ones rest is in a little round chamber like the
inside of a football. It is made of soft grasses and
of fur plucked from her body. A great many pas-
sages center in this chamber, which enables the gopher
to reach her feeding grounds or to escape in any di-
rection from threatened danger. A sectional view of
this apartment is shown in the illustration under the
figure of the animal.
50 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
When captured the pouched gopher does not care
to live any longer—that is, provided he can not escape,
which he is very likely to do unless fastened in some
place where even his sharp, strong teeth can not gnaw
his way out. He then becomes sullen and unman-
ageable, and so ugly and quarrelsome that he will
fight to the death either with a comrade in captivity
or any living creature that is shut up with him. “ Lib-
erty or death” is the watchword of the whole pouched
gopher tribe.
THE DIAMOND BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS.
A BEAUTIFUL NEST IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
Most birds that burrow are content with very
little in the way of a nest; even a few tufts of grass
or feathers, or dried leaves, are often dispensed with ;
but the diamond bird, well named to suggest the
brilliancy of its plumage—though one would scarcely
expect such a bird to have a nest anywhere but in
the tree, perhaps in the hollow of a tree, certainly not
in a hole in the ground—digs galleries two or three
feet long, at the end of which it hollows out a cham-
ber to contain its nest—a chamber that is the wonder
of any one who sees it. The entrance is only suffi-
ciently large to allow the little creature to pass through
it; and she is only three and a half inches long, tail and
all, but the farther end of the hole is raised so that the
rain can not come in, and enlarged to three inches in di-
THE DIAMOND BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS. 51
ameter. Here an apartment is formed for the mother
and her eggs or nestlings. It is shaped like the in-
side of a small globe, and most beautifully formed of
Diamond bird. \
scraps of the bark of gum trees, woven with a perfec-
tion of neatness that is really wonderful, especially
when we consider that the process of its construction
is carried on without a ray of light to guide its
clever little architect.
The diamond bird is a sprightly pinch of lightly
colored feathers, as it flies energetically from bush
52 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
to bush in pursuit of insect fare, often entering the
gardens of the settlers in southern Australia and Van
Diemen’s Land which it inhabits, incessantly uttering
its pleasing, piping note of two syllables, which may
be translated into the words, What next ? what next ?
The crown of the head and the wings and tail are black,
with a round, white, brilliant spot at the tip of each
feather. A white strip passes above the eyes. The
cheeks and sides of the neck are gray, and the feath-
ers on the back are gray, shading into brown at their
roots, and edged with black at their outer ends. The
uppermost tail covers are vermilion red; the throat,
breast, and lower tail covers bright yellow ; the belly
and sides are orange, the eyes deep brown, the beak
brownish black, and the feet brown. But to appre-
ciate the beauty of his apparel you should see the
bird make it flash and sparkle in the sun, every
feather vibrating as he palpitates in his active, eager
flight, or dives in and out among the leaves and
blossoms like the play of iridescent color thrown from
a prisni.
Ant milking
_ aphides, which
¥ it keeps as
cattle.
Parasol ant,
carrics a leaf
over its head.
A BIRD BURROWER—THE PUFFIN. 53
A BIRD BURROWER—THE PUFFIN.
A HOME-MAKER AND A HOME-TAKER,
Birds are not as easily adapted by nature for bur-
rowers as are mammals. Although a considerable
number of species live in caves and holes of different
sorts, there are few true burrowers among them.
Some, like the kingfisher, will make over and alter
and adapt a deserted burrow to suit its convenience.
But even the sand martin, perhaps the only winged
creature that invariably excavates its own tunnels in
the earth, though capable of sinking her shaft in
sandstone hard enough to turn the edge of a knife,
never fails to select the lightest and most easily pene-
trated soil or sand for her purpose.
One of the bird burrowers is the queer little
puffin. She has, however, not the slightest objection
to taking advantage of the labors of others. If, for
instance, she has a fancy for a dwelling already occu-
pied by a rabbit and her family, she walks in without
knocking and evicts the owner with small ceremony
but considerable violence, using her powerful bill as
a weapon with such effect that Mrs. Rabbit and fam-
ily are not apt to stand long on the order of their
going, but to go at once and set at work to dig an-
other burrow. Having obtained possession of the
premises by the oldest and most inalienable of rights
—that of might—Mrs. Puffin does some excavating
on her own account, and makes such additional gal-
54 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
leries and chambers as she thinks proper. In one of
these she lays upon the bare earth, according to the
immemorial custom of diving birds, one white egg, to
Burrow of the puttin.
_A BIRD BURROWER—THE PUFFIN. 55
which she devotes the whole of her attention until the
queer little fluffy chick makes its appearance.
The baby puffin, though it is the object of con-
siderable attention on the part of many birds and
beasts who are so fond of the baby that they would
fain eat it, is bravely defended by its mother, who on
occasion will seize her enemy with her beak and “ hurl
herself and her foe into the sea.”
On the water she feels herself invincible, for the
waves are her fortress; she can outswim, outdive, and
outlast any opponent she is likely to encounter in
such a combat. Indeed, a puffin is in all proba-
56 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
bility not to be found at home by objectionable
callers ; her burrow is curved, and has two entrances,
and while the enemy enters the front door she and
her chick escape by the back and plunge as soon as
possible into the water, where they can with little
exertion burrow as often and as rapidly as they
choose.
If you ever happen to be walking upon the edge
of any of the sea cliffs with which the Firde Islands
abound, you need not feel any surprise to hear a fierce
grunting going on beneath your very feet. It is only
the old puffins who frequent the place in great num-
bers, and whose burrows run deeply into the banks ;
they are angry with you for disturbing their slum-
bers by tramping over the roofs of their dwelling
places.
THE TURRET-BUILDING SPIDER.
THE LOG CABIN SHE BUILDS.
The log cabin or turret spider digs a burrow in
the earth six or seven inches in depth and builds a
tower of sticks above its burrow, as cabins are built
of logs, by placing the sticks alternately one upon the
other and filling the interstices with earth and moss.
The turret is constructed of these sticks, which
are an inch or two in length, in such a manner as to
have five sides and to reach the height of two or
three inches. Mrs. Mary Treat, the discoverer of
THE TURRET-BUILDING SPIDER. By
this spider, describes the building of the tower. She
says the spider readily accepted her help in construct-
ing her habitation.
Madame Spider had been put in a jar which con-
tained six inches of earth, together with a lot of build-
ing material in the
shape of sticks and
moss. It was not long
before her burrow was
begun, and when it
measured two inches
in depth she com-
‘mmenced her turret
above it.
She did not refuse
to take sticks offered
her from the fingers
of Mrs. Treat. Stand-
ing inside of her tun-
nel and holding the
stick in her fore claws
she arranged it as she
saw proper and fast-
ened it in place with
a stout bit of cob-
web, and having done — Burrow of the turret-building spider.
so, accepted another,
which she used as she did the first, and so proceeded
until the foundation of her five-sided domicile was
laid. She then disappeared inside her burrow, and
soon came to the top again carrying a pellet of fresh
6
58 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
earth, which she put on top of one of the sticks, and
went on doing this until there was a complete circle
of these pellets arranged on the inside of her five
walls.
The soft earth was flattened and molded into
shape by the pressure of her body, so that the inside
of the turret presented a perfectly round, smooth sur-
face, which was at once lined with silk. More sticks
were now required and furnished, another course laid
and finished, and still another, until the little log cabin
was two inches and a half high over her burrow.
Mrs. Treat presente the little architect with strips of
green moss one or two inches in length, which she
secured to the outside of her turret with cobweb.
This gives her tower a very dainty and picturesque
appearance.
Mrs. Treat says that Madame Spider is a very neat
housekeeper, and never, as some other spiders do,
leaves the unpleasant remains of her dinner in sight,
but goes on top of her house and throws it as far away
as she can—a foot or two from her burrow.
About the end of July Madame Spider appeared
with a cocoon of eggs, like a light-colored globe fast-
ened to her spinneret, to which she gave constant care
and attention.
Tf the weather was cold or damp, she retired to
her tunnel ; but if the jar in which she lived was set
where the sun could shine upon it, she soon reap-
peared and allowed the cocoon to bask in the sunlight.
If the jar was placed near a stove that had a fire in it,
the cocoon was put on the side next the source of
CTENIZA. 59
warmth. If the jar was turned around she lost no
time in moving the cocoon to the warmer side.
Two months after the eggs were laid the young
spiders made their appearance, and immediately
perched upon their mother, many on her back, some
on her head, and even on her legs. She carried them
about with her and fed them, and until they were
older they never left their mother for a moment.
CTENIZA.
HOW AND WHERE THEY CONCEAL THEMSELVES,
Visitors to Arizona,
New Mexico, or Cali-
fornia, sitting medita-
tively, without noise
or movement, beneath
some tree or elsewhere,
are sometimes aston-
ished beyond measure
to see small circular
doors, like those that
cover manholes in the
streets of New York
suddenly lift up in the -
soil about them, and Burrow of the eteniza.
what might be taken
for the hairy heads of outlandish little pygmies peep
out.
60 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
The slightest movement on the part of the
amazed spectator, who can scarcely credit his eyes,
is asignal for the immediate disappearance of doors
’ and dwarfs, of which, even on the most careful ex-
amination, not the slightest trace remains. It may
be a long time before the person who has had such
an experience meets a true explanation of the phe-
nomenon, for the people who live in the wilder parts
of these States and Territories are not naturalists, and
it is almost too strange a story to tell after returning
to more civilized parts of the country.
The truth is, the pygmies seen, called cten‘za by
scientific folks, mule-killers by the natives, are trap-
door spiders. The holes they live in are sometimes
twelve inches deep and an inch in diameter; the
mouth is a little wider, and is covered by a thick lid
that fits snugly in it. The lid, or trapdoor, is made
of earth fastened together with threads of cobweb,
covered on the underside with silk that also lines
the hole or tube it covers, and is the material of
which the thick hinge on one side is made. When
the cover is shut it is impossible to distinguish it from
the ground about it. Even if the exact spot it occu-
pies is located, when it happens to be lifted by the
spider inside, it is still impossible, without tearing, to
raise it again after it is closed, for the inmate of the
tunnel holds it shut with jaws and with her first two
pairs of feet, while the other two pairs are firmly
braced against the walls of the tube.
There are in Europe trapdoor spiders that practice
a sort of legerdemain trick to deceive would-be house-
CTENIZA. 61
breakers. The covers of their burrows, instead of
being thick and fitting into the hole like a stopper,
as is the case with those of the California trapdoor
spiders, are thin, covered with moss, dead leaves, or
whatever happens to be scattered over the ground
where they are, and lie loosely upon the mouth of
the burrow. Two or more inches down the tunnel,
however, is another door, hinged to one side of the
tube, open and hanging down when not in use; but
no sooner is any attempt made to lift the upper lid,
than the lower one is pushed up and shut by the
spider under it, and then looks exactly as if it were
the bottom of an empty tube.
Another species improves upon this trick by dig-
ging a branch tunnel from the middle of the tube in
a slanting direction to the surface, and hanging a door
at the junction of the tubes, so that it can be used to
close the way to either of them as occasion requires,
while the householder escapes to the one which has
not been broken into.
The flap or lid of the tubes of all trapdoor spiders
is always so made that when it shuts it does not fall
in the slightest degree to the right or left, but comes
down exactly upon the opening it covers.
Where the burrow is dug on a slope of ground, as
it almost always is; the hinge is invariably uppermost,
so that when raised the door falls shut of itself. In
the case of the American trapdoor spider, and others,
where the lid is thick, it is neatly beveled off in-
ward, so as to tightly and accurately fit the socket
or frame into which it falls. All others, also, where
62 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
the door is a mere flap of dried leaves and sticks,
fastened in place with cobwebs, have the upper edge
more or less irregular, and covered with all sorts of
projections, so that no well-marked line on the ground
betrays its presence when closed.
BEES AND WASPS AS MINERS.
UNDERGROUND NURSERIES,
The old-fashioned stanza beginning
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
published when verses for children were by no means
as common as they now are, and more familiar to the
grandparents and great-grandparents of the young
folks of to-day than they are likely ever to be to the
present or to any future generation, may be excellent
poetry of its kind, but it is misleading as to fact. The
little busy bee does not work all day, nor every day,
nor does she choose, as a rule, flowers not yet opened
from which to gather her honey. Again, although
the bee is the trade-mark of labor, the sign and sym-
bol of diligence, and the badge of industry, it is
from the name of the male insect that we obtain a
word that best of all describes an idle, useless fellow.
But it is also true, though not generally known, that
there are whole tribes of bees, both male and female,
BEES AND WASPS AS MINERS. 63
that never in all their worthless lives do a stroke of
honest work.
These cuckoo bees, as they have very appropri-
ately been called, have no means provided, as have
other bees, in the way of widened hind legs bor-
dered with bristles, nor thick coats of hairs on the
lower parts of their bodies, for collecting pollen.
The common working bees look heavy and clum-
sily built compared with them; their smooth, shiny,
and slender bodies are adorned with the richest of
colors; they are aristocrats among the bees, fashion-
able folks, who spend their days flying about for
pleasure. They make their way into the homes of
nest-making bees in the absence of the rightful own-
ers and deposit their own eggs on the masses of food
stored up for the intended occupant, the children of
the laborers.
Nest-making bees are another variety of the in-
sect we know so well. They are solitary bees, and do
not live in hives. There are many sorts of them.
Carpenters, as described elsewhere, work out homes
for their babies in solid timber; masons, that build
their nests of grains of sand cemented together ; up-
holsterers, that cut out and piece rose leaves together ;
and miners, that sink shafts deep into the earth and
make nurseries in them.
The Andrena bee burrows in light soil to a depth
of from five to twelve inches. The tube belonging
to the species, shown in the accompanying illustra-
tion, is perpendicular, with small chambers, slanting
downward at intervals, on different sides, and con-
a
CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
64
v
BEES AND WASPS AS MINERS. 65
nected with the main shaft by short passages. The
sides of the shaft are rough, but varnished over with a
mucuslike secretion. After building these chambers
4,
Ms VAY
LIA
GLE BGs
BA
‘ SA
cL MDNE®.
Rose-leaf bee.
the Andrena gathers balls of pollen and puts one in
each chamber with an egg, which hatches out a grub
that lives on the pollen until it is ready to make its
g
66 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
way into the main shaft, and come out into daylight a
full-fledged Andrena bee. The deepest chambers are
provisioned last.
The mother bee can dig through the hardest-
packed earth and gravel to make her tunnel. She
does all the work herself. The fore legs of the male
bee are not adapted for digging, nor his hind legs for
carrying pollen.
The wasps are famous diggers, but instead of stor-
ing up honey or pollen for the use of their little ones,
they capture living insects, which they have the power
of paralyzing with their stings, and which they de-
posit with their egos in their burrows. The effect of.
the sting is very wonderful. Spiders stored away
with wasp’s eges, which have failed to hatch, have
been found after several years had past in the same
condition as when first deposited.
It may seem very cruel to condemn living crea-
tures to such a sort of life in death to fall a prey at
last to hungry grubs, but the insects, it is safe to say,
are entirely unconscious and insensible to pain.
Our very large wasp in Texas* captures the grext
hairy ground spider found there,+ though the spider
has been known to catch the wasp. This wasp makes
a burrow five inches deep for every egg it lays, and
one spider is stored in each burrow.
Every species of wasp has its own particular species
* Pompilius formosus.
+ Mygale Mutzit. Latin and Greek, a field mouse: a man’s
name.
BEES AND WASPS AS MINERS. 67
of insect for its food supply. Some capture locusts
or grasshoppers, some cockroaches, some flies, others
caterpillars, and so forth.
Species of wasps exist that make their homes in
the sand, others in hollow stalks of reeds and other
plants, and many that are glad
to take advantage of any old
hole or crevice they can find to
save themselves the labor of
making burrows. Mr.
H. P. Gosse tells of a
dauber wasp * that made
a nest of an empty ink
bottle; stored it with
spiders’ and wasps’ eggs,
and stopped up the neck
with clay. When this
was broken into and the
spiders overhauled, she
visited it, took out all
the spiders first put
there, replaced them
with others, and reclosed
the neck of the bottle.
Wasps of another
kind + have been known
to use the folds in a piece of paper, and “even of
the barrels of a double-barreled pistol hanging on
the post of a garden summer house.” On one oc-
* Pelopeus. + Odynerus.
68 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
casion a wasp of the same genus made its nest, as
shown in the illustration, in the hole of an old spool
of thread.
a \ SAI eA Ga area aaa
| i
Bumble bee and nest.
SENSES OF ANTS.
THEIR SENSE OF SMELL WORTH ALL THE REST.
A gentleman once placed a number of ants in a
box closed at the sides, but in one corner of which he
had made a small hole. There was a piece of glass
in the corner that let in a little light, and through it
he could see what was going on inside. At first the
ants scattered and ran everywhere seeking an outlet
to freedom. At last one ant found the hole, but in-
stead of escaping by it the little insect came back
and touched a number of its friends with its feelers,
or antennee as they are called, and these touched the
rest. As soon as this was done all the ants formed
SENSES OF ANTS. 69
into Jine and marched out of the hole, led by the one
that first found it.
In this way it was seen that ants can talk to each
other with their antenne as we with our tongues, or
rather, perhaps, as deaf and dumb people who are
also blind do with their fingers.
If you place a dead fly near an ant-hole and an
ant finds it, the little creature will try to carry the fly
away. As the fly, to it, is as large compared with
the insect as an elephant is to you, the ant, although
very much stronger for its size than the strongest
man, soon sees it needs help. It leaves the fly and
goes back to its ant-hill. If it meets an ant belong-
ing to its own hill it touches the antenne of its friend
with its own and the two start off together, but it
does not notice stranger ants. If it does not meet
any friend, it goes down into its hole and presently
comes out again with a number of house mates, that
fall to work upon the fly and carry it home. It
is not likely that ants can converse as human be-
ings can, that they can call each other by name, or
recite verses or tell fairy stories, for their sense of
hearing does not seem to be very well developed ;
but without any doubt they have a language with-
out words that answers the purpose of making their
.. wants known to each other, and of telling each other
such things as are necessary to the comfort and safety
of the community in which they dwell.
Human beings think that seeing, hearing, and
feeling are the most important of the senses. If a
person can not see, that person is blind ; if he can not
70 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
hear, he is deaf; if he can not feel, he is insensible ;
if he can not smell—what is he? There is no word
that describes the lack of the sense of smell, because
the sense itself is so much duller and weaker than any
other in mankind that its loss is not important enough
to have a word all to itself. The same thing, in a de-
gree, may besaid of taste, though this is more developed
than smell. With a number of animals the sense of
smell is of even more consequence than those of sight
or hearing, and this is particularly the case with ants.
Baby ants have been taken away from the ant
family when they were born and brought up by them-
selves, and after a long time set free close to the ant-
hill from which they were taken. As soon as any of
the ants from this hill met them they knew at once
that the visitor belonged to the family, and the new
comers also knew their relatives, and went with them
into the hill and lived there the rest of their lives.
When, however, ants from another hill were intro-
duced the poor creatures were attacked and killed or
driven away.
Unless ants have a sense of which we know noth-
ing, they must recognize each other by the sense of
smell, as dogs know the footsteps of their masters.
Indeed, unless their sense of smell is so well devel-
oped as to answer for that of sight, it is. hard to under-
stand how they can build and keep clean and in order
their underground homes, and earry on all their do-
mestic affairs—for they are notable housekeepers—
when their habitations are kept in utter darkness.
WORK VERSUS PLAY. oy
WORK VERSUS PLAY.
HOW ANTS AND OTHER ANIMALS WORK.
I remember, when a schoolboy, building a brick
house, and few recollections of my boyhood days
linger as pleasantly in my memory as this one. Sev-
eral of us had obtained the privilege of using the
corner of a brickyard in the village. We had our
own clay mill, properly dug, in which we prepared
our “malm” or mud, with which we filled our
molds, the moist clay properly mixed with sand that
went into the molds as mud but came out as bricks,
delightfully firm and shapely, with true-cut edges
and sharp corners. These had to be set on edge to
dry, and when dry built into kilns and baked.
Few brickmakers, I fancy, worked harder or more
faithfully than we did; and for what? The bricks
we made, which were two thirds the size of ordinary
bricks, were worthless except as playthings. We were
paid no wages, and certainly, because our work soiled
our boots and clothes, to say nothing of our faces and
hands, we received no praise or commendation for
what we did. Our only pay was the delight we had
in making our own bricks and building our own play-
house. It was the delight of doing—of doing work ;
no one ever would call it labor; we certainly never
thought of it as such, any more than we did “tag,”
“T spy,” ball, or any of our games. Properly
12, CURIOUS HOMES AND TITEIR TENANTS.
speaking, it was play-work; and this is just what
the so-called labor of bees, ants, beavers, and birds
amounts to.
Men labor: horses, reindeer, and sometimes dogs
labor; but only men, and the animals they compel to
do so, really labor. Birds build their nests, bees
make their honey, and beavers build their dams, be-
cause they find it delightful to do so. They work
“for the fun of the thing,” as a boy would say.
There are a great many mistaken notions indulged
in by folks who get all their ideas about animals from
what they read in books, and one of them is thinking
and speaking of animal workers as they would of
human laborers.
You may sometimes hear and read of the labors
of coral insects and the islands they build in the
southern seas. There used to be a poem, in the schoo]
reader I studied, describing their unselfish and life-
long labor; and Mr. Montgomery in one of his poems
describes these architects, who, by touching slime,
turn it into adamant, and with it build their own mau-
soleums.
Of course, this is all nonsense. The coral animal
is as far from being an insect as was Mr. Montgomery
himself; and the coral, which is composed of the hard
parts or skeletons of a number of such animals, is no
more the result of their toil than are the bones in our
bodies the effect of any labor on our part.
Animals, in a natural state, never do one thing
when they would prefer doing something else. It
may be thought that cats must find it tiresome to
WORK VERSUS PLAY. 13
watch for hours at a mouse-hole, and that other ani-
mals undergo trouble and fatigue in seeking their
prey, but there is nothing to show that they do not
enjoy it; and the fact that in mere sportive play they
will often do much the same thing, seems to argue
that they take pleasure in the pursuit as well as the
capture of game.
Certain birds that make very handsome nests have
the instinct for building so strongly developed that
they will go on working away at their nests after they
are finished, and will even build others, seemingly
with no other object than to gratify their love of nest-
building. Beavers will try to build their dams, if
kept in captivity, even if they have to build them of
hair brushes, old rags, and bottles, in bedrooms and
closets; and, without tediously giving instance after
instance of the kind, it will perhaps be sufficient to
recall the fact that bees, instead of resting when they
have laid up ample store of honey to last for genera-
tions yet unborn, labor as assiduously as ever to still
further increase their store.
Another mistake often made is that which credits
insects with enormous strength in proportion to their
size. A number of curious computations have been
made to show what men could do if they were pro-
portionately as strong as fleas and flies and bees and
beetles. “An ant carries away a dead fly larger as
compared with its own size than an elephant is to a
man; a grasshopper leaps fifty or sixty times the
length of its body, and termites rear edifices which to
equal in proportional size men would have to erect
74 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
structures taller than the highest mountains.” The
greater pull that gravitation exerts upon men as com-
pared with insects is not taken into account.
It requires a number of ants to weigh a grain.
Such an insect can fall from any given height with-
out the slightest injury.
The materials—the muscle fibers and flesh—that go
to make up an animal are as strong in an insect as in
any other creature, but the resistance they have to
meet in gravitation is very little. If other things
were proportional as well as mere size, if gravitation
had no greater hold on a man than it has on an ant,
or if the material of which man is constructed were
as much stronger as a man is larger than an insect, his
strength and power would equal and surpass that of
the latter. In other words, living creatures are and
must be more under the power of gravitation as they
increase in size, irrespective of their mere muscular
power.
ANTS AT HOME.
HOW THEY KEEP HOUSE.
There are no lawmakers among the ants, and no
one rules over them. Like the bees, they have what
are called their queens, but the so-called queens pos-
sess no power to command their subjects.
The fact of the matter is, every beehive and
every ant-hill consists of an immense family of
brothers and sisters, and she who is called the queen
ANTS AT HOME. "5B
is the mother of the whole tribe. She is well taken
care of, fed, and kept clean, and the eggs she lays are
also the objects of watchful attention, but she has
neither the freedom nor the power of any member of
her family, for she may not even come and go as do
the others, or share in their delightful labors. The
only laws ants obey are their own wishes; they do
nothing because they feel obliged to do it.
The sense of duty—of forcing one’s self to do or
not to do some particular thing because it ought or
ought not to be done—belongs only to mankind. But
ants love to be busy, just as boys and girls love to ex-
ercise every muscle in their limbs and bodies in health-
giving occupations; and they find plenty to do.
First of all in importance in an ant-hill are the baby
ants, for the whole life of the tribe depends on their
well-being. While the little ones are yet in the egg
they are constantly kept in the part of the formicary
or ant nest best suited for hatching them.
In warm days they are brought near the surface,
but during wet or chilly weather they are carried
away to the deepest chambers. When they hatch
they are without legs, and have to be constantly, so
to speak, in the arms of their attendants. These baby
ants are really what are generally taken for ants’ eggs,
when on disturbing a nest they are seen as their
nurses hurry away with them in their mandibles or
pinchers. The real eggs are very minute, and gen-
erally escape notice.
These babies, we are told, “are incessantly and
carefully tended by their nurses, who clean them and
6 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
feed them, carry them about during weather changes,
escape with them or fight for them if attacked by
enemies, and often show a species of attention that
has an amusing resemblance to the dandling of an
infant by a young mother. The ant children are
often assorted according to age and size, reminding
one of the class divisions in a schoolroom.”
When these baby ants pass the second period of
their existence, during which they are called larvee,
they either spin a whitish or light yellow cocoon (and
it is sometimes these, as well as the larve, that are
mistaken for ants’ eggs), shutting themselves up in it,
or else they sink into a deep sleep just as they are.
In doing this they enter upon the third stage of an
ant’s life, and are called pups, during which time they
take no food. When they are ready to awaken again,
which they do in the perfect and mature form of ants,
the nurses, who have never left them a moment,
know it, and help them out of their cocoons, and out
of their old skins as well, and unfold their legs—you
will remember they had none before—and smooth out
the wings of the young queens and the male ants, that
are the only kinds born with wings.
The winged ants do not delight in work as do the
others, who are called workers. They are taken care
of by the workers, looked after, fed, and cleaned like
big babies. Sometimes they are free to go out of
doors and run about a little, but are then carefully
guarded, and not allowed far from the nest.
At last, however, a time comes when they must go
away and seek their fortunes, must be fathers and
AGRICULTURAL ANTS. vue
mothers of new tribes, and leave the home of their
childhood, never again to return.
They are now old enough, wise enough, and strong
enough to look out for themselves, and at the close of
a warm day in the fall of the year they may be seen
by thousands, swarming from the ant-hills and flying
away.
‘When a young queen ant has found a place that
pleases her for her future home, she breaks off her
wings—for she will indulge in no future flights—
settles down, and for a time works hard to make a
little home for her children; she takes care of her
own young, feeds them, cleans them, and brings up
her first brood herself. When this is done her labors
are ended; hereafter her children wait upon her and
upon each other as long as she lives.
As for the male ants, they fly away on their travels,
and never return to their old homes or make new
ones.
AGRICULTURAL ANTS.
HOW ANTS MANAGE A FARM,
Among insects, bees and ants are without doubt
the most skillful house-makers, and of these the latter
approach nearest mankind in the construction of their
dwellings. Indeed, if we can imagine a race of human
beings building their houses partly underground, as
do the tribes of northeastern Russia, and making
them sufficiently large to accommodate whole com-
vas) CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
munities of people, as do the puebla-builders of our
Southwestern Territories, we would have in mind a
state of things very much like that existing among
the greater number of species of ants. In another
respect also the ants approach very nearly to different
races of human beings in different phases of human
development ; for, while some of these little creatures,
like our North American Indians, live by hunting,
others are pastoral—that is, have their flocks and
herds, which they care for, defend, pasture, and shel-
ter during the inclement part of the year; others,
again, are agricultural—raising, cultivating, and har-
vesting crops of grain like farmers.
These farmers, or harvesting ants, consist of nu-
merous species found in the warmer countries of the
world, but have been made the object of careful
study, more particularly in Texas and Florida. Dr.
Lincecum, the discoverer of the agricultural, or, as
Dr. McCook calls it, the harvesting ant, has written
an excellent description of the insect, an abstract of
which appears in the journal of an English entomo-
logical society for 1861, and is as follows:
“The species which I have named agricultural
is a large brownish ant. It dwells in what may be
deemed paved cities, and, like a thrifty, diligent,
* provident farmer, makes suitable and timely arrange-
ments for the changing seasons. It is, in short, en-
dowel with skill, ingenuity, and untiring patience,
sufficient to enable it to contend with the varying
exigencies which it may have to encounter in the
life-conflict.
AGRICULTURAL ANTS. "9
“When it has selected a situation for its habita-
tion, it bores a hole, around which it raises the sur-
face three and sometimes six inches, forming a low,
circular mound, having a very gentle inclination from
the center to the outer border, which on an average
is three or four feet from the entrance. But if the
Agricuitural ant.
Cleared spaces, grauaries.
location is chosen on low, flat, wet land, liable to in-
undation, though the ground may be perfectly dry at
the time the ant sets to work, it nevertheless elevates
the mound in the form of a pretty sharp cone, to
the height of fifteen or twenty inches or more, and
makes the entrance near the summit. In either case
80 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
the ant clears the ground around the mound of all
obstructions, and smooths and levels the surface to
the distance of three or four feet from the gate of
the city, giving the space the appearance of a hand-
some pavement—as it really is; within this paved
area not a living thing is allowed to grow except a
single species of grain-bearing grass.
“ Having planted this crop in a circle around and
two or three feet from the center of the mound, the
insect tends and cultivates it with constant care, cut-
ting away all other grasses and weeds that may spring
up among it, and all around outside the farm circle,
to the extent of one or two feet more. The culti-
vated grass grows luxuriantly, and produces a crop of
small, white, flinty seeds, which under the microscope
very much resemble ordinary rice.
“When it is ripe it is carefully harvested, and car-
ried by the workers, chaff and all, to the granary cells,
where it is divested of the chaff and packed away.
The chaff is taken out and thrown beyond the limits
of the paved area.
“During protracted wet weather it sometimes hap-
pens that the provision stores become damp, and are
liable to sprout and spoil. In this case, on the first
fine day the ants bring out all the damp and damaged
grain and expose it to the sun until it is dry, when
they carry it back and pack away all the sound seeds,
leaving those that had sprouted to waste.”
Dr. Lincecum, who had at the time he made his
discoveries public been studying these insects for
twelve years, asserts that the ants plant as well as
AGRICULTURAL ANTS, 81
harvest their crops; but this is doubted by the Rev.
Mr. McCook, who looked into the matter while on a
visit to Texas.
The ants are not confined to their cultivated fields
in gathering grain, but make long roads, which they
keep quite clean and level, into the surrounding
forests of wild grass, and on these little highways
can be seen the busy harvesters going for and return-
ing with the grain from distant harvest fields.
The pueblas or houses of the agricultural ant are
many stories deep, and consist of a great number
of chambers, granaries, and passageways or halls.
Of course, there is no light or ventilation, which ants
have learned to do without in these underground
habitations. It is, in fact, the absolute need which
human beings have for these two things that ac-
counts for much of the difference between the habi-
tations of primitive people and those of the lower
animals; for whether it is beavers, moles, termites, or
ants, they seem at times to do very well almost with-
out either breathing or secing.
89 CURIOUS HUMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
CARPENTER ANTS.
HOW THEY BUILD THEIR HOUSES.
If an old tree or stump or log in the woods is
watched carefully during the warm weather months,
little black heads may often be seen thrust out from
openings in or about the bark. Each of these heads
belongs to a carpenter ant.
The busy little creatures
are bringing out the chippings left by the workmen
Interior of dwelling of carpenter ant.
inside that are carving
out rooms and galleries
for the future use of
the family. The chip-
pings brought out are
dropped to the earth
beneath, and are taken
by ants stationed below
and carried off, to be
dumped in some out-of-
the-way place.
The dwelling place,
or formicary, as it is
called, of these ants
shows a series of floors
laid out in small and
large rooms and galleries, separated from each other
by arches, pillars, and partitions. As ants can run
up and down a perpendicular surface almost if not
CARPENTER ANTS. 83
quite as easily as they can a horizontal one, they need
no flights of stairs, nor do they greatly care to make
their floors flat and even; and as it is always dark in
the formicary, it is not necessary for appearance’ sake
to decorate the walls, or to finish their rooms with all
the surfaces at exact right angles to each other, or plan
their houses with the regularity of different parts that
we find desirable in those we build. The doors open-
ing from one room to another or upon the long gal-
leries are either arched, or form more or less complete
circles, ovals, or ellipses ; and the same may be said of
the windows that serve for ventilation in the parti-
tions. Still, there is no real lack of symmetry in the
construction of the habitation, when we take into
consideration the purpose its architects had in view,
and the admirable way in which it is adapted to the
use of its tenants. The surfaces of the walls and
floors are finished with the greatest care and kept
scrupulously clean, and the galleries and doors are
arranged to give the readiest and easiest possible ac-
cess to all parts of the formicary.
A carpenter ant can not, like a human workman,
lay aside his tools when he has done with them, for
they are part of himself. Unlike those contrived by
man, they are never dull or rusty, and no amount of
invention can contrive any better fitted for the work
they do. These mandibles, as they are called, at-
tached by strong muscles to the face, are shaped
something like the blades of a pair of shears, such
as are used by sheep-shearers, but the inner edges
are armed with sharp teeth. Never were more serv-
S4 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
iceable tools devised, or ones that could be put toa
greater number of uses; for with them their owners
dig, carve, saw, bore, pinch, carry and fight, and
when used for each of these various purposes they
seem as if designed for that particular end, and for ,
no other.
HONEY ANTS AND THEIR HOMES.
LIVING HONEY BOTTLES.
Honey ants are small red insects, and are found
throughout Mexico, Texas, and as far north as Colo-
rado. Their nests are large, rounded mounds, or in
some cases low heaps, extending over an area of per-
haps twenty or thirty square feet. The ants, as a
rule, nocturnal, working all night and sometimes by
day, for they appear to be the most active and indus-
trious of insects, even among races proverbial for
industry; indeed, they seem to have no season of
rest.
Of all the household utensils used by living crea-
tures, the oddest, without doubt, are the living bottles
of the honey ant. The insects, as their name implies,
live upon honey, or sweet, sirupy fluid from plants ;
but although ants are intelligent enough as builders,
and shepherds or cattle-keepers, and as farmers, they
have never learned from their cousins the bees to
make vessels in which liquid can be stored, and the
question arises how their food is to be kept after it is
HONEY ANTS AND THEIR HOMES. 85
collected. The honey ant overcomes the difficulty in
a decidedly novel and interesting manner. Certain
of the ants of a larger growth than the others are
utilized as receptacles for the honey-food supply, and
become literally honey bottles, the liquid food being
forced by the workers into the crop of the living
Living bottles
> Living bottle fecding
‘Ant hill. workers.
bottle, until the ant resembles an amber-colored cur-
rant or berry with a small stem, consisting of the
head and thorax or fore part of the body with the
legs of the insect.
The honey-bearers are rendered practically helpless
by the operation, but are carefully attended by their
companions. They are kept in chambers built for the
86 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
purpose, about six inches long by four in height.
Here they cling to the ceiling of the apartment, their
distended crops hanging downward like clusters of
small grapes.
The small workers forage among the trees in the
neighborhood for food, and find it in what are known
as galls—curious enlargements of growths on plants
formed by insects in depositing their eggs in the
wood, the latter growing about it, and allowing the
escape of a liquid that is greatly esteemed by ants,
and certainly tastes like honey. Filling their bodies
with this material, the workers proceed to the store-
room and deliver it up to the honey-bearers, who re-
tain it until it is needed; for when the other ants de-
sire their rations they go to the dark chamber and are
forthwith supplied with all they want.
The bodies of the honey-bearers are evidently
formed by Nature for the purpose, being covered
with plates that spread apart when the portion of
the body they cover is distended.
Not only do the honey bottles furnish food for
their brothers and sisters, but also for human beings,
They are used as desserts, as we use grapes or cur-
rants, by the natives of New Mexico. A plate of
these ants is set before a guest, who by a pressure
of the distended sac between the teeth extracts the
honey.
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS. 87
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS.
WHO THEY WERE AND HOW THEY LIVED.
Scarcely more than four hundred years ago Amer-
ica had not a name. Neither the old Vikings, who
visited its shores long before Columbus made his first
voyage, nor John Cabot, who first looked upon the
continent after the Northmen, had any idea of the
nature or extent of their discoveries.
When it was ascertained that two great continents
on this hemisphere balanced Europe, Asia, and Africa
on the other, America began to be called the New
World. But it is not in reality new. It is quite as
old if not older than that on the other side of the
globe. Ages before it was known to Europe, suc-
cessive civilizations arose, flourished, and decayed;
and, as far as anything is actually known on the sub-
ject, it is just as possible that the Old World was dis-
covered ages and ages ago, and peopled from America,
as that the native inhabitants of our hemisphere, the
forefathers of our Indians, came from the Eastern
hemisphere, for America is a very ancient land. Of
course, no one thinks that this is the case, but really
nothing at all is known about it.
Many, many centuries there lived a race of peace-
ful Indians in that part of our country now divided
into the States and Territories of Arizona, New Mex-
ico, and Colorado. Instead of warring upon the
8s CURIOUS HOMES AND TITEIR TENANTS.
Clit-dwellings.
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS. 89
neighboring tribes and depending upon hunting wild
animals for food, they cultivated great tracts of
country, and raised maize and beans and other crops,
upon which they chiefly lived. They wove cloth, and
made baskets and excellent pottery, beautifully col-
ored and decorated. Their houses, in time of peace,
were in the bottom lands. They consisted of pueblas
—that is, as has been explained in the introduction of
this little book, towns consisting, as do those of the
white ant and other insects, of a single structure,
just as large apart-
ment houses con-
tain many distinct
habitations. These
great buildings
have ground plans
of various shapes, Puebla ornament.
the most usual be-
ing an oblong quadrangle, three sides of which are
oceupied by the building, and the fourth, one of
the longer sides, is inclosed by a wall or a row of
single rooms. Sometimes the front wall is curved
outward, and there is one case in which the whole
structure is in the shape of an ellipse.
The general structure of these buildings is unlike
any found in the Eastern hemisphere. It is, indeed, so
characteristic of the aboriginal inhabitants of Amer-
ica that it is perpetuated in an ornament peculiar to
the native writers of this country, called the puebla
ornament, consisting, as is here shown, of a succes-
sion of steps, which is a very good plan of a sec-
8
90 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
tion of a puebla building. Suppose, for instance,
the puebla to be three stories high and three deep.
The outer walls will be three stories high, but the
top story only one room deep, the second story two
rooms deep, and the first story three rooms deep.
Seen from the country behind it, the building will
look like a house with
perpendicular walls, but
seen from the courtyard
it appears terraced. The
doors were in the ceil-
ings of the rooms and
were entered from above
by means of ladders, the
dwellers in the top stories
having to go up three
ladders and over the roofs
of each of the lower tiers.
Some of the pneblas are five hundred feet long, and
contain hundreds of rooms.
But besides these pueblas, the people who lived in
them had their cities of refuge high up in caverns in
the side of inaccessible cliffs, where they built the
most wonderful habitations, perhaps, in the known
world. The part of the country in which these ruins
are found is now very desolate, for the time when
they were built is so very long ago that a radical
change of climate has taken place, and where great
fields of waving corn once grew, scarcely a living
plant appears.
In southern Colorado rises the river San Juan.
Terraced pucbla.
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS. 91
North of this the river Dolero begins in the San
Miguel Mountains, and flowing west and north at last
joins the Rio Grande. It is in the upper courses of
the two former rivers that the ruined cliff-dwellings
are found. The mountains tower to the height of
fourteen thousand feet, bare and bleak. Instead of
the smiling river valleys of the eastern part of the con-
tinent, there are deep, gloomy ravines called cafions,
worn down from the surface of the ground to a depth
of from five hundred to two thousand feet, often so
narrow that a ray of sunshine seldom or never pene-
trates their shadowy recesses. A few cottonwood trees
are dotted along these cafions, and at intervals, where
they widen out, a patch of scanty wire grass tinges
the gravelly soil a faint green. Above is a desert
waste of sand and sagebrush and stunted greasewood,
peopled only by rattlesnakes, horned toads, and taran-
tulas. Patches of white alkali on the sand look like
snow, but the sun beats down upon the dry earth with
pitiless fury.
It would be, indeed, hard to believe, in the absence
of the ruined habitations to be found on every side,
that this dreary land was once thronged with semi-
civilized races; but along the terraced faces of the
more open cafions cluster multitudes of picturesque
ruins, in the valleys the remains of pueblas, and in
the wilder ravines may be seen single habitations,
perched like the nests of the cliff swallow upon the
face of the perpendicular precipices. Here the peace-
ful tillers of the soil retreated when attacked by
predatory tribes, and here remained, living upon the
99 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Position of cliff-dwellings.
provisions stored up for
such occasions until their
enemies saw fit to leave
them in peace.
Fully a thousand feet
above the Rio Mancos
are single houses, groups
of two and three, and
villages, according to the
width of the terrace
upon which they are
built. They are so high
that to an observer at
the foot of the cliff they
look like mere specks.
It is impossible to reach
them from above on ac-
count of overhanging
rocks, and there is no
present way of gaining
access to them from be-
low, although the re-
mains of pathways in
the rocks show it was
once possible to ascend
it.
The labor of carrying
material for these buili-
ings, and provisions and
water up the steep face
of the cliff can scarcely
HUMAN CLIFF-DWELLERS. 93
be estimated. Some of the cliff-houses are of con-
siderable size. One is mentioned several hundred
feet above the Rio de Chelly, five hundred and fifty
. feet long, three stories high, containing seventy-six
rooms on the ground floor. The walls were plastered
with white cement. The prints of the human hands
that uncounted centuries ago spread it upon the walls
may be still seen. Near the floor are the impressions
of the chubby palms of little children, every crease
and dimple being perfectly preserved.
It has been ascertained that these people were fire-
worshipers. However small the niche in the rocks
in which their houses were crowded, there was always
room left for a circular building, called an estufa, in
which the sacred fire was kept burning.
“Tt is said,” writes Mr. Davies, in his Conquest of
New Mexico, “that Montezuma kindled sacred fire in
the estufas, and commanded that they be kept burn-
ing until his return. He was expected to appear
with the rising sun, and every morning the inhabit-
ants ascended to the housetops and strained their eyes
looking to the east for the appearance of their deliv-
erer and king. The task of watching the sacred fires
was assigned to the warriors, who served by turns a
period of two days and two nights without eating or
drinking.
94 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
AUSTRALIAN CLIFF-DWELLERS.
A NOISY MULTITUDE.
The cliff-dwellers of Australia consist of flocks of
great white cockatoos. Certain precipices near South
Australian rivers are the homes of innumerable cock-
atoos, just as the cliffs of the North Sea are the
resort of thousands of sea gulls. The rocks are com-
pletely honeycombed by them. In each of the multi-
tude of cockatoo nests lay two pointed white eggs the
size of those of a bantam fowl, and in time the
nestlings issue forth with the mother bird from the
hole in which their nest is placed to add their voices
to the chorus of triumphant cries above, below,
and on every side. The combined shrieks of the
multitudes of birds here assembled are perfectly ap-
palling, and can only be faintly imagined by those
familiar with the yells that a few captive cockatoos
are capable of producing.
There is not much chance of raising fruit or crops
of any kind where these birds abound. They waste
much more than they devour, and it is almost im-
possible to drive them from the fields. They have
sentinels posted to guard every approach, and the
moment the distant coming of an enemy is seen the
sentinels utter a subdued cry, and the field that was
before alive with the clamor of the birds is as still
as death. Ina moment every cockatoo has hidden
AUSTRALIAN CLIFF-DWELLERS. 95
itself amid the grain and is making the best of its way
to the part of the field most remote from that where
danger threatens ; and having run as far as suits their
purpose the whole flock rises in the air and dis-
appear in the nearest forest, only to return as soon
as the intruder, whose presence drove them away,
absents himself.
Perhaps,” writes Captain Grey, “it would be
impossible to imagine a more exciting spectacle
than that of the Australians hunting the cockatoo.
They employ for this purpose the very remarkable
weapon peculiar to this people, the boomerang,
which, as the reader probably knows, is a sickle-
shaped flat piece of wood, which can be thrown by
the hand a distance of one hundred feet, and flies in
small circles with many windings from the direct
track. An Australian will follow a flock either into
the fields or woods, preferring, however, places where
large trees are situated near water, such spots as
‘these being the favorite resorts of cockatoos. Here
they are to be found in innumerable hosts, climbing
on the branches or flying from tree to tree; here
also they sleep, and here the wily native comes,
most watchfully observing all necessary precautions.
He goes from one tree to another, and creeps from
bush to bush, taking great care not to disturb the
wary birds, but in vain; for, however quiet his move-
ments may be, he is soon discovered, and his near
approach greeted with a hideous cry; the birds have
already perceived that danger is near, although they
do not know what the next step may be.
96 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
“ At length their pursuer reaches the water and
discloses his dark form to their view. Amid piercing
shrieks the white cloud of birds rises in the air, and at
. the same moment the Australian launches his weapon
among them. The boomerang, which was thrown
with great force, dances and springs in the most won-
derful manner over the water, and then, rising higher
and higher in its wayward flight, is soon careering
in the midst of the frightened flocks. A second, a
third, and a fourth weapon are discharged; in vain
the terrified creatures attempt to escape ; the apparent
aimless course of the missile bewilders and delays
their flight. One after the other is struck by the
boomerang and comes fluttering to the ground,
knocked senseless or with broken wing, screaming
with pain and terror; and it is not until the dusky
hunter has attained his end that the remainder of the
terrified flock hide themselves in the foliage of the
trees.”
The Australians eat the bird; and although a na-
tive Australian will eat almost anything, the flesh of
a cockatoo is really tolerably good, and the soup made
from it is excellent.
The great number of these birds that are exported
to evcry part of the civilized world proves that they
are not difficult to capture or keep, for, if properly
fed and cared for, they will live a very long time in
captivity.
A cockatoo can be taught to speak pretty well,
though, of course, is never as teachable as true par-
rots; it becomes very tame, and if kindly and gently
EAGLES’ NESTS. 97
treated develops a mild and gentle disposition, but it
never forgives insult or harsh treatment. It has an
excellent memory, and will avenge, if it can, an
injury years after receiving it.
EAGLES’ NESTS,
AND THEIR BABIES,
Eaglets are not as cunning and pretty as little
chickens or ducks. It is true, they are covered all
over with a handsome coat of soft, velvety, straw-
colored down, but their heads seem much too big for
their bodies, and as for their feet they are so large
and heavy that the young birds can not stand or walk
upon them. Even when they are very young their
eyes are sharp and fierce, and so are their crooked
beaks, always ready to snap at any fish or meat that
comes in their way.
Baby eagles are very greedy indeed, and never
seem to have enough to eat. The eggs from which
they are hatched are the size of a rather small hen’s
egg, about two inches long, but they are not shaped
like biddy’s eggs; they are as round as baseballs, and
rough to the touch on the outside.
The nest which the papa and mamma eagle builds
is very large and strong. It sometimes measures six
feet or more across, and from four to five feet in
thickness. It is not always hollowed out, as are the
nests of most other birds, but is flat on the top like
98 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
a table. One would think the little birds would fall
from such a nest, but they never seem to do so until
they are old enough to fly.
The eggs are sometimes laid in extremely cold
weather, when the thermometer is many degrees be-
low zero, but neither the eggs nor the little birds
hatched from them ever freeze. The parent’s warm
breast keep both from chilling, and the little birds
are soon hardy enough not to mind the cold at all;
neither do they dread hot weather, but thrive as well
far south in Florida and Texas, and even under the
blazing sun in Mexico, as they do in the cold north.
The nestlings of the common eagle, which is the
kind now mentioned, weigh about two pounds. This
is a pretty good weight for a baby bird, thongh they
are much heavier when the down of the little birds
has given place to feathers, and the mamma and
papa eagles begin to teach their little ones to fly.
Sometimes there is but a single nestling in the
great nest, sometimes two, but seldom more than
two, so that the little birds have all the care and food
that are usually shared among other birds by a large
family. The parent birds seem to pay a great deal
of attention to the education of their children. Sir
Humphry Davy had an opportunity of seeing the
instructions given, and I shall give his account in
nearly his own words. He says:
“T once saw avery interesting sight above one of
the crags of Ben Nevis, Scotland, as I was going in
pursuit of black game (the blackeock, a game bird
in Scotland). Two parent eagles were teaching their
EAGLES’ NESTS, 99
offspring, two young birds, the maneuvers of flight.
They began by rising from the mountain in the eye
of the sun.
“Tt was about midday, and bright for this climate.
They at first made small circles, and the small birds
imitated them. The older birds paused on their wings,
waiting until their children had completed their
flight, and then they took a second and larger circle,
always rising toward the sun and enlarging their
circle of flight, so as to make a gradually ascending
spiral. The young ones slowly followed, apparently
flying better as they mounted; and they continued
this exercise until they became mere points in the
air, and the young ones were lost, and afterward the
parents, to our aching sight.”
Eagles do not have different mates every season,
as do birds generally; they pair for life, and some-
times occupy the same nest for many years.
But though faithful to their young and to each
other, eagles are tyrants and robbers to all other
birds. Not only do they prey upon birds and animals
sinaller and weaker than themselves, but they rob
other birds of their prey. Sitting upon some lofty
crag or tree, the eagle watches the birds flying above
the waters of some lake or sea. High above all soars
the fishhawk. As the eagle catches sight of him
his fierce eyes flash, and balancing himself upon his
perch he half opens his wings to be ready for instant
flight. Down, swift as an arrow, plunges the bird he
watches into the water, from which he appears with
a struggling fish in his beak, which he is about to
100 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
carry away for his breakfast. As he sees this the
eagle screams with joy, and, bending his neck and
spreading his broad wings, he instantly gives chase to
the feathered fisherman. Each tries to mount above
the other, but the eagle, having no heavy fish to carry
and possessing more powerful wings, is the victor.
Just as he is about to reach the fishhawk, that poor
bird with a scream of despair and anger drops the
fish he carried in his beak. The eagle, poising him-
self for a more certain aim, descends like lightning
upon it, catches it before it reaches the water, and
carries it silently away to its nestlings in the woods.”
This, put in more simple language, is what Wilson,
a great American naturalist, tells of the way in which
the parent eagle provides food for his young ones.
One of the most wonderful things about eagles
is their power of vision. Their eyes are much better
and stronger than ours, and they bear not only to look
upon the sun, but they can see much more distinctly
than we can. Even baby eagles can see their parents
at immense distances coming to feed them, as they
plainly show by their cries, before a human eye can
possibly make them out in the clearest light.
If an eagle is taken from the nest of the parent
bird and brought up by hand it becomes very tame,
and makes an interesting pet, though not exactly of
the kind one would care to have about the house.
TREE HOUSES. 101
TREE HOUSES.
PEOPLE THAT USE LADDERS TO CLIMB UP TO THEIR BEDS
IN THE BRANCHES.
The natives of New Guinea climb like monkeys
and travel long distances from one tree to another,
without descending to the ground. In this country,
where birds build little fairylike cabins on the ground,
the people construct their houses in the tops of the
tallest forest trees. First, a native having climbed
the great trunk of the teak or cedar or oak tree he
has selected, begins by cutting off some of the branches
the right length to support a platform of bamboo on
which his house is to rest.
You would wonder how he could do anything
with the tools he uses, if you should see them. He
has no saw or steel-edged axe, but only a sort of
tomahawk made of stone, and knives of bone or hard
wood. When, however, he has in some way man-
aged to get the limbs of his tree so cut and fashioned
as to support his house, his hardest work is done.
: The house itself is soon built, and is made of bam-
boo strips and thatched with palm leaves. All parts
are firmly lashed together with strips of rattan palm, a
very tough vine used by the natives in place of ropes. -
It is not a large house, though it sometimes contains
several rooms, but it is a safe and secure retreat for
the women and children in case of sudden attack by
hostile tribes.
102 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Tree houses.
TREE HOUSES. 103
But as the builder can scarcely expect his wife
and little children, to say nothing of his pet pigs, of
which these people generally keep one or more with
them in the house, to climb the tree, he has to pro-
vide some way of getting them from the ground to
the house. This he does by making a long ladder
of vines reaching from the earth to the platform upon
which his house is built. If enemies appear, the
ladder is of course drawn up, and those above rest
securely, far out of reach of any weapon known to
the wild men of New Guinea. These tree houses
also serve for lookouts from which to see coming
friends or enemies in time to prepare a suitable recep-
tion for either.
There are several good reasons for building houses
so far above the ground besides those already given:
one is, that they are not reached by the low-lying bad
air that in this country causes fevers and sickness ;
another, that they are free from ants and mosquitoes,
two terrible plagues throughout New Guinea; and
still another is, that the breeze that gently rocks the
house, like a bird’s nest in the treetops, is much pleas-
anter and more refreshing than the sultry heats
below.
If you should climb the long ladder and peep in
at the door, you would find the family perhaps all
asleep, or sitting about on the floor eating yams, cocoa-
nuts, or bananas, and sharing them with their pet pigs,
parrots, or poultry. You would find there no pic-
tures, toys, or playthings, such as even the poorest
children among us possess; no music and no books;
104 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Fisherman's dwelling, New Guinea,
no furniture in the room, not even a bed, and no
mats on the floor.
Many a tree-built nest is constructed with more
art, and is more comfortable for the little ones who
A STRANGE ANIMAL. 105
are born in it, and is far prettier, than the rude huts
of the wild men of New Guinea.
A STRANGE ANIMAL.
A LITTLE HOBGOBLIN.
Sometimes in the dusk of the evening there sud-
denly appears to the people in some parts of Java re-
markable dwarfish beings which they call madmags, or
hobgoblins, because they look more like the creatures
of a disordered imagination than any real, living ani-
mals; and so impressed are those who see them, we
are assured, with the uncanny apparitions and the
malevolent influence they are supposed to exert, that
if one is seen on a tree near their rice grounds the
plantation is abandoned and left uncultivated. And
yet these terrible animals are no larger than squirrels,
and are as harmless as possible.
It must, however, be confessed that it would be
difficult to imagine anything more weird, uncanny,
and goblinlike than are these malmags or specters.
The creature, when seen, fixes a pair of enormous
yellow eyes upon the observer, erects his grotesque
figure, and begins making the most extraordinary leaps
several feet directly up into the air.
It is not by any means a common animal even in
the countries it inhabits—the Oriental Archipelago
and the Philippine Islands. It makes its nest and
9
106 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
Tarsius spectruin,
A STRANGE ANIMAL. 107
rears its young in the hollow roots of the great bam-
boos that grow in these countries.
None have ever been brought alive to Europe or
America. Don Guillemard, who had a living speci-
men when he was at Celebes, in the Malay Archipelago,
writes :
“The most interesting addition to our menagerie
was a tiny Zarsius spectrum, brought to us by a na-
tive, by whom it was said to have been caught on
the mainland. These little creatures, which live in
trees and go about at night, are nearly the size of a
small rat, and are covered with remarkably thick fur,
which is very soft. The tail is very long and covered
with hair at the root and tip, while the middle por-
tion of it is nearly bare. The eyes are enormous, and
indeed seem, with the equally large ears, to constitute
the greater part of the face, for the jaw and nose are
very small indeed, and the latter is set on, like that
of a pug dog, almost at a right angle to the forehead.
The hind limbs at once attract attention from the great
length of the ankle bones, and the hands are equally
extraordinary from their length, the curious claws
with which they are provided, and the remarkable
pads, like those on the toes of a treetoad, at the ends
of its fingers, which probably enable the animal to
retain its hold in any position. —
“This weird-looking creature we were unable to
keep long in captivity, for we could not get it to eat
the cockroaches which were almost the only food we
could obtain for it. It remained quiet by day in its
darkened cage, but at night, especially if disturbed, it
108 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
would spring vertically upward in an odd, mechan-
ical manner, not unlike the hopping of a flea. On
the third day it found a grave in a pickle bottle.”
ANIMALS THAT SLEEP THROUGH THE
WINTER,
AND ANIMALS THAT SLEEP THROUGH THE SUMMER.
Every animal inhabiting the colder regions of the
earth is taught by instinct how to avoid the severity
of winter. Birds, of course, take the air line for re-
gions nearer the equator, and in a few days have ex-
changed arctic or antarctic storms for lands where
“summer sings and never dies”; but mammals who
can never quit the regions in which they are born
either seek out holes and caverns and remain there,
living upon such stores of provisions as, taught by the
same instinct, or, in other words, by their Creator, they
have collected during the milder season of the year,
or sink into a deep sleep and a long one—so long, in
fact, that they do not arise for many months, until
Spring visits their abode again and awakens them
with the warmth of her perfumed breath.
During this sleep, life, reduced to its lowest ebb, is
scarcely to be detected in the feeble pulsations of the
heart, and breathing so slow that through months of
this deathlike sleep the breath is drawn less fre-
quently than during a couple of days of active waking
life; and the fat which the abundance of summer has
ANIMALS THAT SLEEP THROUGH THE WINTER. 109
enabled the animal to gather suffices to keep up the
glimmering spark of life. The warmth of the body
sinks to a few degrees above the freezing point; the
limbs stiffen and become almost insensible to injury.
This, however, is not true of all animals exposed
to the same degree of temperature; and why some
should hibernate, as it is called, and others should
not, is no more known than that some hibernate in
winter and others in summer—though, to be sure,
“hibernate” is scarcely the right word to use in the
latter case, since the Latin word from which it is de-
rived means winter. Many of the smaller mammals
as well as reptiles and insects in Europe and America
pass the colder part of the year in this way. Like
the water rat, they sleep.
“When the cold weather comes and the water plants die,
And his little brooks yield him no further supply,
Down into his burrow he cozily creeps,
And quietly through the long winter-time sleeps.”
But to find those that take these long naps in the
hot season we must go to the tropics.
In Madagascar, where the weather is always very
warm, there is, as in most hot climates, a wet and a
dry season. There are numbers of little busy, tailed
creatures that sleep for many weeks during the hottest
part of the year in nests of twigs and leaves that they
have, birdlike, built in the trees. They belong to
the lemur tribes, and are called dwarf lemurs or mouse
lemurs, or chetrogales, which last name is from two
Greek words, and means “ with hands like a weasel.”
These little animals which are not so large as a rat, de-
110 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
vote their waking hours during the wet season, when
the warm rains make everything grow in the greatest
profusion, to the cultivation of their long tails. It is
true, their bodies grow sleek and fat, but their tails in-
crease in size out of all proportion. During the time,
however, of their summer sleep their beautiful tails
grow more and more slender, until when they again
awaken their appearance is so changed that they would
scarcely be known for the same animals. They are,
however, principally known as the best nest-builders
among the mammals; and their nests, like those of
birds, are not used alone as sleeping places, but homes
for their young until the little ones are old enough to
look out for themselves.
They, like most lemurs, are night animals, and
their eyes shine in the dark like illuminated jewels.
POTTO.
HOW HE WAS BROUGHT TO ENGLAND.
A gentleman named Bartlett, while on a voyage
to the African const, obtained a strange animal which
he called “Van Bosman’s potto,” because nearly two
hundred years ago a ship captain named Van Bos-
man, who visited the Guinea shore, saw one of the
queer little creatures, called it a potto, and wrote
an account of it after reaching his home in Holland.
When Mr. Bartlett first took the potto aboard his
ship it was so young that he feared it would not live.
POTTO. 111
As the ship upon which he had embarked for Eng-
land left the warm climate of Africa and met chilling
breezes from the north, Mr. Bartlett saw that his
little charge suffered from the cold, and tried to think
of some way to keep him warm and comfortable.
After trying various plans without much success, an
old nursery rhyme he had heard when a child oc-
curred to him:
By Baby Bunting,
Papa’s gone a-hunting,
To get a little rabbit skin
To wrap his Baby Bunting in.
“ Just the thing!” said Mr. Bartlett, and straight-
way he had a cunning little bag made of hare skins
with the fur inside. In this snug nest potto slept
most of the time, and, in order to make sure he was
warm enough, a baby dog, older than potto, was put
into the bag to keep him company. When the puppy
had to go to its mother, another was put in its place.
Potto clung to the puppies as closely as he would have
clung to a mother if he had had one, hugging them
so tightly that the doggies did not quite like it. This
nursing, however, did well, and potto grew strong
and healthy, and was, on the whole, good tempered.
He slept all day perched on a door, but at night he
would come down and wander about the room. He
would not eat bread and milk, but would feed on pine-
apples and bananas and water. Although there were
often insects in the room, which had flown in at the
window, potto would not touch them, but one day he
was found busy dining on a tray of preserved beetles.
112 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
In its own home in West Africa and the coasts
of the Gulf of Guinea the white people who live
there call the potto a bush dog, and the natives, who
for some reason are very much afraid of it, call it
aposo. They seem to have an idea that it will jump
upon them and cling so tightly as to choke them to
death, or else, like the Old Man of the Sea in the story
of Sindbad the Sailor, will clasp its victim with its
hind legs in such a manner that the person attacked
can never get rid of his living burden, but must carry
it about with him for the rest of his natural lite.
Although called a dog, the potto looks much
more like a monkey; but he really belongs to a
solemn, sedate, sober, slow-going set, very different
from the merry, mischief-loving monkeys. He seems
to be bowed down with grief and trouble and to have
a world of care on his shoulders. Never is he seen
playing pranks or rushing noisily about, but always
secretly and silently stealing from one place to
another, or sitting motionless in the strangest pos-
tures, fast asleep.
All these little creature live in nests built in
the hollows of forest trees or among the branches.
They move about noiselessly, and never show them-
selves at all during the day, so that they are very
seldom seen even by the natives. They belong to
a family of animals called lemurs, which means
“ ghosts,” because of their sly, quiet ways, and be-
cause they only appear at night.
BASHFUL BILLY. 1138
BASHFUL BILLY,
HIS WAYS AND HABITS.
Bashful Billy is a slow loris, a strange, awkward-
looking little creature, and certainly slow enough to
deserve the name. He was taken from his nest in a
hollow tree in Java when he was very young, and has
been brought up as a pet by the lady to whom he
belongs. He might be taken for a monkey but for
his soft, slow ways and the unmeaning stare of his
great, yellow, owl-like eyes. When he sleeps—which,
it must be confessed, he does most of the time—it
does not seem to make the least difference to him
whether he hangs head downward, like a bat, from the
top of his cage, or clings to its side with all four of
his paws, or doubles down until the top of his head
rests on the cage floor, or curls up like pussy, pro-
vided that his nap is not disturbed. If, however, he
is awakened he gets quite out of temper, and will
show any one who doubts it that he has very sharp
teeth, though in truth he is very good natured at all
other times.
He has to be bathed every week in warm water,
and when he is taken out and dried he licks himself
all over like a cat. He seems to dread dirt, either in
his cage or upon his person, as much as the most
careful housewife. He is very fond of fruit, espe-
cially bananas, but will not touch peaches, perhaps
114 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
because the woolly fuzz on the skin is not pleasant to
the touch. He will eat almost any kind of insect, or
bits of raw meat from the breast of a chicken, but
cooked meat he does not like. Roaches are his favorite
food, and he has almost cleared the house of them.
When the evening brings in his daytime he is
wide awake and very gentle, though never playful.
He will take the finger of his mistress in his paws,
convey it to his mouth, and lick the tip end of it
with his tongue, but he never at this time of day
offers to bite. On cold, wet days he is much crosser
and more out of temper than in warm, sunshiny
weather.
There is something very peculiar in his way of
closing his eyes, for, instead of bringing down the
eyelid over them as other mammals do, the lids come
together in a slanting direction, outward and inward.
He will sometimes rise up and stand erect like a little
man, or some kind of a queer goblin from fairyland,
for which, indeed, he was taken hy the housemaid
when she first caught sight of him.
The loris is not a rare animal in the countries
from which it eomes—that is, in India, Cochin-China,
the Malay Archipelago, and the great islands of
Java, Borneo, and Sumatra; but as it is always hidden
away during the daytime in its nest, which it builds
in hollow trees, and as it goes abroad in search of
food only at night, it is very seldom seen.
THE LONG-TAILED COONBEAR, OR KINKAJOU.
A QUEER PET.
The kinkajou has a tail nearly twice as long as his
body and almost as thick. When he wishes to take
a nap he goes to the hollow in the tree he lives in,
116 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
makes a coil of his tail and goes to sleep upon it; it
is his bed; it is also an extra limb, for he can coil it
about the branch of a tree, or any support small
enough in circumference to allow it to go once or
twice around and hang suspended in mid-air. Like the
tail of an opossum, that of the kinkajou is prehen-
sile. The little fellow takes great pride in his long,
furry tail, and spends much of his time dressing and
combing it with his fingers. He uses his hands much
as does a raccoon or monkey, and, sitting upon his tail,
holds a bit of bread in one paw while he breaks off
bits with the other, and also, like a monkey, uses
both his fore and hind paws to carry food to his
mouth. He is very fond of bananas, apples, and the
like.
One that I have often seen, owned by a lady in
New York, would not touch animal food, though
in their native state we are told the kinkajou lives
upon birds, insects, and lizards, as well as fruit. He
makes a charming pet, gentle, quaint, clean in his
habits, and is an intelligent as well as an affectionate
animal,
A TENEMENT HOUSE BUILT BY BIRDS. 117
A TENEMENT HOUSE BUILT BY BIRDS.
HOW THEY BUILD IT.
An oriole’s nest, hanging over the little bracket
upon which is placed my miniature bust of Audubon,
is an unfailing source of interest and delight to me.
With what a wise provision the birds have suspended
their home on the frail and flexible branchlets at the
extreme end of a bough, out of harm’s way; and with
what untaught skill have they woven the most re-
fractory and unpromising substances into a beautiful
and compact tissue, while their unerring instinct has
determined the proper size of the structure, with just
enough for its needs, and not a fraction of an inch to
spare!
What selection and adaptation of material are here
represented! Everything has had to be found and
fitted. The twig that is so deftly carried about the
nest to frame and strengthen it is perhaps the only
one among a thousand that has exactly the needed
shape and curvature. The bit of birch bark with
just the proper warp to protect the lower part of the
nest has been chosen with as much care as that be-
stowed by an Indian in the selection of a piece of the
same bark for his canoe; and, indeed, every small
fiber, straw, and hair, or bit of moss, has been made
the subject of such serious and painstaking delibera-
tion that I can find no imperfection in the wonderful
economy of space and material used.
118 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
And yet this is but a simple structure compared
with those of some of the tropical orioles, which in
turn must yield the palm for excellence to the nests
ir ie"
" vi
ELAN
at ae
Birds’ tenement house.
of those most skillful of all feathered architects, the
weaver birds.
Some of these birds build double nests, one apart-
A TENEMENT HOUSE BUILT BY BIRDS. 119
ment of which is occupied by the male, while the
mother and her little ones are in an inner chamber.
Some of the nests belonging to a different species are
not only built out on the extreme end of a flexible
branch, but all the twigs that might afford possible
foothold to a foe are deliberately stripped off; and
still another species, the Mahali weaver birds, cover
their nests with a defensive panoply of large, tough,
needle-pointed thorns, built into the structure in such
a manner that the points project outward.
The buffalo, weaver bird (Zeator Dinenullt) builds
from three to eight nests combined into one huge
structure from five to six feet in length and from
four to five in breadth. This may be considered a
sort of apartment house, occupied by several families.
The noise and bustle about one of these compound
nests must be heard to be appreciated.
The real bird tenement house, however, is con-
trived by the sociable weaver bird (Philete rus
socius). Imagine a structure built by birds tht
measure but six inches from the ends of their tails to
the tip of their skillful little beaks, which is as large
as a native’s hut; large enough to shelter five or six
men; large enough, in fact, to break down, as it some-
times does, the tree in which it is built!
Nor must it be supposed that the tree selected is
either small and weak, or brittle. There is a species
of acacia (Acacia giraffe) known to the Dutch people
of South Africa, where it grows, as Kameel-dorn, or
camel tree, because they persist in believing the
giraffe, which is very fond of its leaves, a sort of
120 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
camel that has run all the substance of its humps
into a neck of preposterous length in its efforts to
reach and graze upon the foliage; and this tree the
social weaver birds almost invariably and very wisely
choose for their nests, for, indeed, its fiber is almost
as tough and stout as that of the hearts of the Dutch
folks themselves, who have with such indomitable
resolution and endurance defended their homes
against all invaders.
The material of which the nest is constructed is
no less strong and wiry. It consists of a grass which
almost seems as if created for the purpose; so long, so
flexible, so unbreakable and untearable are its blades,
that it makes the best and most enduring of mats, and
was formerly used by the Bosjemens or Bushmen
(lence called Booschamannie grass) to weave into im-
penetrable defenses against the javelins and arrows of
their enemies.
A single pair of birds often set to work on a nest
of this kind, carrying the grass to a tree and com-
mencing in a wonderful manner to weave it com-
pactly into a little rain-proof roof. The next season
the progeny of the parent birds come back, select
mates, and the old homestead is enlarged to suit their
convenience, much as we have seen some little cabin
built about with wings and additions to accommodate
married sons and daughters who came home to live
with the old folks.
The narrow structure now widens, and beneath
the compactly woven shelter the nests close their
ranks and hang shoulder to shoulder, like the cells in
THE BAYA BIRD. 121
the comb of a wasp’s nest, and accumulate all the
more rapidly that the birds refuse to use a last year’s
nest, leaving it to various rather disreputable tenants,
in the way of bats, insects, and reptiles, while they
move into cleaner apartments.
In fact, the place is in every respect a tenement
house, noisy, and thronged with a miscellaneous mul-
titude of all sorts and conditions of folks, each family
keeping house on its own account, and often quar-
reling not only with other households but among its
own members. The roof, however, unlike that of
its human prototype, effectually keeps out not only
rain, but thieves and murderers; bird- and egg-eating
snakes and monkeys can not effect an entrance, and
the occupants of the nest are safe.
THE BAYA BIRD.
A CLEVER LITTLE ARCHITECT.
What human habitations can rival the dainty
architecture of the birds? In adaptation of materials,
form, and size to the use designed, what equals the
snug and airy domicile swung on the extremest tip of
a pliant twig, the pendant home of the oriole; or the
nest of the wren, deftly concealed in the perfumed
shadows of clover blossoms or violets; or the exquisite
nest of the hummingbird, built of lichens and mim-
icking the knot of an old trec; or, indeed, a thousand
others ?
10
122 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
All combine economy of room with beauty,
strength, and safety, as no man-dwelling ever did:
just space enough, the mother and her eggs fit as
closely and snugly as possible, and yet are not over-
THE BAYA BIRD. 123
crowded; just room enough, too, for the nestlings
until they brim over its mossy sides and fly away to
build homes for themselves; just the combination
of hammock, house, and cradle that best suits the
winged home-makers who never stay indoors except
to brood their little ones to life with their soft, warm
bodies, and to feed them until they have attained
strength and bird wisdom sufficient for self-support.
So temporary and merely incidental to the whirl
of sportive delight which constitutes their life do
many tribes of feathered gypsies consider the nest,
that its construction is as slight and unelaborated as
the shelter of hemlock boughs built by lone hunters
for a night’s encampment; but, slight as it may be, it
is never inartistic or unsuitable. Indeed, it can not
be said without reservation that one nest is better or
more skillfully built than another, since all are per-
fectly adapted to the purposes, habits, and require-
ments of their builders; but the degrees of labor
spent in their construction are as varied as the situa-
tions in which birds place their nests or the material
with which they build them.
It so happens that one of the wisest and most
teachable of little birds is also the builder of one of
the most beautiful and elaborate of nests. This is the
baya (Welicurvius baya) of India. The nest it makes
might be easily mistaken for some grass-made, closely
woven, flask-shaped basket of native human manu-
facture. Dr. Jordane, in his Birds of India, says, in
regard to the nest:
“Tt is apparently made of grass of different kinds,
194 CURIOUS IIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
plucked when green, sometimes of strips of plantain
leaf, and not infrequently of strips of date-palm or
cocoanut, and I have observed that nests made of this
last material are smaller and less bulky than those
made with grass, as if the little architects were quite
aware that with such strong fiber less amount of ma-
terial was necessary.”
The nest is not only handsome and shapely, but it
is so well built and so substantial in its structure as to
be weather-proof against the downpour of a Malabar
or Burmese monsoon. It is very often hung from
the branches of palm trees, though other trees are
sometimes used, and in Burmah the eaves of thatched
houses seem to be preferred, where twenty or thirty
of these long nests, like rows of gourds hung out to
ripen and dry, may sometimes be seen; indeed, on
one occasion more than a hundred were counted
attached all around a single dwelling, and their in-
genious builders did not seem in the least disturbed
by their close proximity to human neighbors, although
in many parts of India the bird is extremely timid
and secluded in its habits.
The truth of the matter seems to be that the natu-
rally wild, shrinking, and retiring nature the baya ex-
hibits in sparsely peopled parts is overcome by the
‘ gentle kindness of the native Indians, whom it, in
common with all animate Nature, learns to regard as
harmless and friendly.
In Oriental countries generally birds and beasts
rather tend to become tamer and more fearless than
wilder in proportion as human beings become more
THE BAYA BIRD. 125
numerous in the localities they frequent. At least
this is the case in India and Japan, in which latter
country birds actually build their nests in the houses,
and are considered part of the families among whom
they live.
The nest of the baya consists of three compart-
ments: one, in the long, tubular entrance, is used for
what might be called the sitting and sleeping room,
which, when the little birds have grown sufticiently
and are strong enough, they oceupy with their par-
ents, having before been kept in the inner compart-
ment or nursery; another, the third, is placed by the
side of the nursery; its use has not been certainly de-
termined by naturalists, though it is thought by some
to be the especial property of the male—a sort of
growlery, I suppose, to which he can retire after a
curtain lecture, or to escape the noise of the young
ones, or think over some business matter.
The strangest part of the furnishing and comple-
tion of their nests remains to be told. When other-
wise finished the nest is studded with balls of soft
clay, which the natives declare are used as candle-
sticks, for in each one of them the baya fastens one of
the brilliant tropical fireflies that abound in that re-
gion.
Some ornithologists, without any better reason
that I can discover than the strangeness of the story—
for scientific folks do not like to credit strange stories
which they do not themselves originate—discredit this
story of the natives, though they admit the presence
of the balls of clay, andcan give none but the most
(
126 CURIOUS IIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
far-fetched and absurd conjectures to account for
their presence there.
But it is not as nest-builders alone or even princi-
pally that the bayas manifest pre-eminence among
birds; for as trick birds they are probably unequaled,
rivaling and even surpassing dogs and monkeys in
this respect.
When taken from the nest ani brought up by the
hand, they can be taught to go down into pits and
dry wells and recover any small article dropped
therein, carry notes to any designated place on a
given signal, or snatch away a hairpin or any small
article of jewelry from any person pointed out, be-
sides a great many other tricks much more surprising
than these. It may be said, indeed, that only close,
loving attention, a faculty of sympathetic interpreta-
tion, and expenditure of a little leisure time are re-
quired to discover and develop an acquaintance with
the ways and wisdom of our commonest birds that
will repay a thousandfold the trouble taken with them.
THE CROSSBILL.
A NEST BUILT IN MIDWINTER.
Some caged birds, though they do not beat them-
selves against the bars of their cage and die of fright
and despair, are never quite reconciled to captivity,
never forget their former liberty, and never cease to
long to set their wings to free, untrammeled flight,
THE CROSSBILL. 127
never lose entirely their instinctive fear of human
beings—in short, are never very happy. They are
uneasy and restless, will not eat when watched, and
often grovel in a sort of stupor of abject fear upon
the floor of their cage. Their songs—for these poor
creatures sing, as captives will, to cheat an aching
heart—do not delight the ear that comprehends their
import; they rather inspire us to tear open the door
of the prison-house and bid the prisoner “ God-
speed,” than wish to retain him to listen to his sor-
rowful lamentations.
Such is not the brave little crossbill—brightest,
cheerfulest, and best contented of bond-servants; for
he is the honored servant not of fear but of love.
He has a thousand and one ways of showing this,
not the least of which is his evident delight on being
noticed or caressed, and the queer little self-taught
tricks with which he seeks to entertain his friends.
A party of spectators gathered about his cage is a
signal for the performance to begin. He leaps into
the ring attached to the roof of his cage, and, falling
backward, swings upside down, supported by his
claws; taking hold with his bill, which he uses much
as a parrot does its beak, and letting go one claw, he
hangs suspended ; then, loosing his beak, he sways
backward and forward, held by one claw alone. The
enthusiasm with which all this is done, and the pride
and pleasure the crossbill takes in “showing off” be-
fore an appreciative assembly, make his performance
doubly amusing. After a series of such aérial gym-
nastics, if a lead pencil, penholder, or any such article
128 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
be extended toward hin, he will fasten upon it with
his strong beak and allow himself to be carried dan-
gling from the end, uttering a subdued little croak of
exultation as he is shown in turn to each one about
him. <A distinguished ornithologist, writing of this
bird, says:
“The dear little bird is so quaint and engaging,
and so fearless of human beings, whom it appears
never to have learned to regard as enemies, that it
seems as if its trustful, innocent ways should be its
protection, and that no sportsman could have the
heart to shoot it. It is only after repeated experi-
ences of the cruelty and treachery of mankind that
it becomes timid and wild. Should his little mate be
killed, the crossbill remains sorrowfully perched on
the branch from which she has fallen, and revisits
the spot again and again in hopes of finding her. He
seems to have so gentle and loving a nature that it is
almost impossible for him to understand evil or un-
kindness. The rapture of affection for his little
companion is such that he will flutter over the top of
the tree where she sits, never weary of pouring out
his whole heart in song, until he sinks to rest on his
perch by her side. Besides their song the birds
have three funny little words they say to each other.
These words are plainly enough ‘Gop, gop,’ ‘gip,
gip, and ‘ Yock, yock” The last is uttered in con-
fidence to each other as they sit side by side, never
after they have taken flight. The word ‘gip,’ re-
peated once or twice, is as much as to say, * Look
out!’
THE CROSSBILL. 129
“When one of the birds utters it, all are on the
alert, and if he flies the whole flock takes wing.
‘Gop’ is ‘Come back.’ When one bird is away from
the others and they ery ‘Gop!’ he immediately re-
turns to the flock.”
Both male and female are pretty singers. Their
song is copious and melodious, but very tender and
soft, especially that of the female. As the birds are
hardy and easily kept, it is a little surprising that they
are not more often caged and made pets of. Certainly
they are far more interesting than canaries, and more
satisfactory in every way than the wild and suspicious
creatures whom we keep cruelly and closely confined,
-because if we afford them the slightest opportunity
they will fly away never to return. There are numer-
ous species of crossbeaks, many of which are found na-
tive to the United States, but all have their plumage
more or less marked with the crimson stains alluded
to by Longfellow in his beautiful little translated
poem on this bird, called
THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL.
From the German of Julius Mosen.
On the cross the dying Saviour
Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm ;
Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling
In his pierced and bleeding palm.
And by all the world forsaken,
Sees he how with zealous care,
At the ruthless nail of iron,
A little bird is striving there.
130 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Stained with blood and never tiring,
With its beak it will not cease ;
From the cross ’twould free the Saviour,
Its Creator’s Son release.
And the Saviour speaks in mildness,
‘ Blest be thou of all the good!
Bear, in token of this moment,
Marks of blood and holy rood!”
The nest of the crossbill, strange to say, is built,
and the young reared, in midwinter, amid snow and
ice in the far north—in Labrador, and even in
Greenland. The nest, though a pretty little affair,
seems illy calculated to keep the eggs or the baby
birds from freezing; but the parent birds are very
brave and faithful, refusing to leave their eggs, but
returning again and again after they have been taken
off by the hand.
The eggs, four in number, are among the most
beautiful of birds’ eggs, being artistically variegated,
marbled, and dotted with various shades of lilac and
purplish brown on a greenish-white ground. The
birds frequent pine and fir trees, and the appar-
ently awkward shape of their beaks, which cross each
other at a considerable angle, is admirably adapted to
the habits of the bird. Living mostly on the seeds of
the cones of the fir, they hold the cone in their claws,
bring the points of the beak directly over each other,
and work them between the scales, when, forcing
them a little sideways, the scales open, and then, again
bringing the points together, they pick out the seed
without the least difficulty.
THE FLOWER-EATER AND ITS NEST. 181
THE FLOWER-EATER AND ITS PRETTY NEST.
A BIRD THAT IS SELDOM SEEN.
Mr. Gould, in his Handbook to the Birds of Aus-
tralia, writes of the Australian flower-eater as fol-
lows :
“By far the greater number of Australians are, I
believe, unacquainted with this beautiful little bird,
yet there is scarcely an
estate in either of the
colonies in which it
may not be found, either
as a permanent resident
or an occasional visitor.
Its natural disposition,
leading it to confine it-
self almost exclusively
to the topmost branches
of the loftiest trees, is
doubtless the cause of
its not being more gen-
erally known than it is,
not even its rich scarlet
breast attracting notice
at the distance from the
ground at which it generally keeps; and in obtaining
specimens I was more generally made aware of its
presence by its pretty warbling song than by its move-
Australian flower-eater and nest.
1382 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ments among the branches. So small an object, in-
deed, is most difticult of detection amid the thick fol-
iage of the lofty Casuarine, to which trees it is ex-
tremely partial, particularly to those growing on the
banks of creeks and rivers.
“Tt is frequently to be seen among the clusters of
the beautiful parasitie Corunthus, which very com-
monly grows on the Caswarine in the neighborhood of
upper Hunter. Whether the bird is attracted to this
mistletoe-like plant for the purpose of feeding upon
its sweet and juicy berries I could not ascertain ; its
chief food is insects, but in all probability it varies its
food. Its song is a very animated and long-continued
strain, but is uttered so inwardly that it is almost
necessary to stand beneath the tree upon which the
bird is perched before its notes can be heard.”
The beautiful nest of this little bird looks at a
short distance like a snowball. It is of the purest
white, and is formed entirely of the fluffy, cottony
substance found in the seed vessels of numerous Aus-
tralian plants. The color of its pretty little eggs, that
look like agate marbles, is a dull white covered with
brown specks.
THE FEATHERED SEAMSTRESS. 183
THE FEATHERED SEAMSTRESS.
WHAT SHE SEWS.
The first time any sewing was done in this world
a little bird was the seamstress, her bill the needle,
and the fiber of some plant the thread. She did
Tailor bird and nest.
not need to make clothes for herself and her little
ones, for Nature provides for all her kind a warm
134. CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
and handsome suit of feathers. No, she made a home
for her nestlings.
To begin with, she sought out a large leaf that
hung at the end of a slender twig and pierced a row
of holes along its edge, using for this purpose her
sharp little beak, as a shoemaker uses his awl. This
done, she flew away and plucked another leaf, which
she prepared as she had the first. She then peeled
the outside of a growing plant into Jong, slender
strips, and, using these for threads, sewed the leaves
neatly together in such a way that a long bag, open
at the upper end, was made. In this bag, which was
in fact a nest, she placed a bed of soft, white down,
upon which, when they hatched, the baby birds
rested,
The same kind of bird now living in India is called
a tailor bird. It likes to live near people’s houses and
in their fields and gardens, and is by no means as
timid and shy as other birds.
A FEATHERED PARSON
AND HIS HOME.
Some time since a friend of mine, having occasion
to purchase a small article, entered a little thread-and-
needle shop in the environs of the city of New Or-
leans, but found no one in the place. As she turned
about to leave, a hoarse voice called out: “ Wait a mo-
ment, mv’am. Take a chair.” Looking around her in
A FEATHERED PARSON. 135
some surprise at not seeing any source from which
she could suspect the voice to proceed, or any pos-
sibility of accepting the invitation so cordially ex-
tended her, she replied, “I will wait, but I see no
chair.”
“ Betty! Betty! come quick! come quick! come
quick! Some one here.—Take a chair,” called out
the voice loudly.
Rather alarmed—for there was no one in the little
shop but herself—my friend hastened to the door,
when she happened to catch sight of a bird-cage just
inside it, containing a strange-looking black bird, with
two white bands, that reminded her of those worn by
English clergymen, extending downward from its
throat. At the same moment a woman appeared at
the half-opened door leading to the rear of the shop.
“Tas tha burd b’ talken, mum,” said she, with a
strong north-of-England accent. “Tas a parson,
mum; them do go on worse’n parrots.”
On inquiry, the talker proved to be what natural-
ists call a Prosthemadera, which had been brought by
the shopkeeper all the way from New Zealand, where
she had formerly resided, of which island the bird is
a native.
Its popular name, “ parson bird,” given it by the
early colonists of New Zealand in allusion to the
peculiar tufts of long white feathers that hang down
from the throat as if to set off its glossy black plum-
age, and which resemble clerical bands, certainly
seems appropriate.
Perched on a stump, as an extemporized pulpit, it
136 ‘CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
gives vent to a jargon of sounds, displaying its bands
and gesticulating in a manner that irresistibly reminds
one of the declamatory style of preaching. <A gentle-
man describing the bird says: “ He shakes his head,
bending to one side, then to the other, as if he made
remarks first to this part of his hearers and after-
ward to that; and once and again, with pent-up ve-
hemence, contracting his muscles and drawing himself
together, his voice waxes loud, as if to awaken sleep-
ers to their senses.”
It is a favorite cage bird with the colonists, being
easily reared in confinement, and its extraordinary
powers of mimicry make it a very interesting pet. It
can repeat whole sentences, and imitate, among other
things, the barking of a dog to perfection. Its mem-
ory, teachableness, and articulation are better than
those of any parrot; in fact, perhaps it is the best
talker among birds.
Not only is the parson bird an excellent talker,
but it is also one of the sweetest singers in the world.
Sir Walter Buller, who has seen the bird in a
state of nature, writes: “It is incessantly on the
move, pausing only to utter its joyous notes. The
early morning is the period devoted to melody, and
the birds then perform in concert, gladdening the
woods with their wild ecstasy.
“When engaged in song, the parson bird puffs out
the feathers of his body, distends his throat, opens
wide his beak, with the tongue raised and slightly
protruded, and gesticulates with his head as he pours
forth the wild harmony of his soul.
A FEATHERED PARSON. 137
“ A pair may often be observed scarce a foot apart
on the same branch performing a concert, for both
sexes sing. The notes are rich and varied, now re-
sembling the striking together of metallic rods, then
a long-drawn sigh, a warble and a sob, followed by a
note of great sweetness like a touch on the high
stops of an organ. One of its finest notes is a clear,
silvery toll, followed by a toll, and then another
toll; the performance lasting sometimes an hour or
more.
“This is generally heard at the close of the day,
or just before the bird betakes itself to roost for the
night... . At other times it may be heard uttering
a sweet, warbling note, followed by a sneeze, after
that a pause, and then a sharp ery of tu-whit, tu-whit,
oo—a pause again, and then its warbling note with
variations, very soft and liquid, but ending abruptly
in a sound like the breaking of glass.”
The parson bird builds a large, well-constructed
nest. Selecting the fork of some bushy shrub, it lays
a foundation, a few feet from the ground, of stout
twigs or dry sticks; upon this it builds its walls of
coarse moss and lichens, and last of all lines the struc-
ture with fine, soft grass. The eggs are white, pow-
dered with reddish-brown spots and specks. The
babies when first hatched are almost entirely naked,
but a warm coat of feathers is soon supplied by kind
Mother Nature, and the little ones grow rapidly.
The parson bird rears two broods a year, which is
fortunate, considering the fact that the bird, which
has, comparatively speaking, been little known to
11
138 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
civilized man, is apt to prove so valuable a cage bird,
uniting and excelling, as it does, the abilities and
accomplishments of the parrot and the mockingbird.
STEALING A HOME.
FROM PERSONAL OBSERVATION,
When the broad lily pads begin to cover the sur-
face of the ponds with green, and the growing leaves
of trees and shrubs yet retain their tender tints of
pink, the summer yellowbird makes his appearace, and
from hedge and bush may be heard his song, as simple
and pleasing as the tasteful but modest plumage that
covers his little person. As soon as they arrive among
us these busy little birds begin to prepare for house-
keeping. The male bird flies about looking for such
things as feathers, plants, dried ferns, catkins from
willows, or anything else that will answer his purpose,
all of which he brings to his mate, who builds them
into a pretty nest. So quickly and deftly do this
little couple labor that they make the greater part
of their home in a single day.
There is often another party watching the build-
ing of the nest with concern—a houseless, happy-go-
lucky gypsy, who has a tramp’s interest in the house-
keeping of most of the smaller feathered dwellers of
the wood ; this is the well-known cow blackbird, who
does not like to give up her freedom for family cares.
STEALING A HOME. 1389
Having put out her babies to be brought up by
strangers, she seems to prefer the company of cattle
to that of her family. The cow blackbird lays its
+ eggs in the nests of all kinds of smaller birds, and her
eggs hatch a day or two before those that rightly be-
long in the nest. So, when the little birds are after-
ward born in the nest, they find themselves crowded
by the larger and stronger strangers, who, on account
of their size and strength, come in for a lion’s share
of all the food provided by the parent birds. Thus
the nest-builders rear the strangers, while their own
young ones starve. It is really a pitiful sight to see a
couple of little greenlets anxiously searching from
daybreak till evening for food to fill the crop of one
or more young cow blackbirds much larger than the
greenlets themselves. The summer yellowbirds,
though confiding little creatures, are not so readily
imposed upon; they seem to know their small, green-
ish, prettily marked eggs from the great, dark ones
the lazy cow blackbirds have smuggled into their
cozy nest. The little couple cling to the spot chosen
for their home and will not leave it, neither will they
consent to hatch the strange eggs. What then is to
be done? The intruders are too large and heavy to be
thrown out. The little birds do not hesitate long.
Unmindful of the new labor imposed upon them, they
set to work and build a new nest upon the old one—a
second story to their house—in which they now lay
their own eggs. Sometimes three or four nests have
been found all built one upon another by these birds, to
escape hatching the strange eggs imposed upon them.
140 CURIOUS IIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
WALLED UP.
STRANGE HABITS OF A RARE BIRD.
There are now on exhibition at the Zodlogical
Gardens in London several very rare birds, among
the most curious of which is the hornbill, a genus
about which little is known. The systematic study
Hornbill feeding mate.
of these specimens by naturalists has developed traits
new to those who have had the rare opportunity of
WALLED UP, 141
observing the bird in its wild state. The hornbills
are kept in a special aviary, apart from all others, and
are the first birds of the sort ever brought to Europe.
The strangest purpose, perhaps, to which the beak
of a bird is ever applied occurs in the use of it by
these very hornbills. These beaks are of such ample
proportions that, until we learn that they are the
merest shells of thin, horny substance, filled with light
cellular tissue, we may well wonder how the birds ever
manage to carry them, especially as, in addition to the
bulkiness of the real beaks, the upper mandible bears
above it a sort of annex, or supernumerary structure,
as large as the beak itself.
Such a utensil—although it is used very dexter-
ously—is out of the question in nest-building, and
consequently the hornbill leaves that busine&s to
birds with beaks of more manageable proportions.
A hollow tree is good enough for him, and when
he and his wife go house-hunting, in the spring of
the year, they are on the lookout for an apartment
of suitable proportions, with a doorway which, if too
small, they can enlarge for themselves. The situa-
tion must be secluded but lofty, and within conven-
ient distance of fruit-bearing trees.
When a suitable abode is selected, Mrs. Hornbill
retires into the deepest recesses and gives herself up
to family cares, plucking from her own body the
feathers which make a soft bed for eggs and nestlings.
Henceforth she is at home to no one until her chil-
dren have grown large enough and strong enough to
leave their home, because, unable to fly or defend
142 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
herself or her little ones, she is the most helpless of
creatures. Mr. Hornbill, however, proves equal to
the emergency, and his beak is none too large to serve
his purpose, for with it he transports great loads of
clay and plasters up the entrance to his wife’s apart-
ment, making it serve him first as a hod and then as
a trowel. In thus walling his wife up in the tree he
secures her safety and concealment, but in order to
feed her he has to make a little window or hole in
the wall large enough for her to protrude the tip of
her beak to receive the food with which he constantly
supplies her.
He is very faithful in attending to her wants.
Indeed, the poor fellow works so hard that he wastes
away and becomes so weak that on a sudden lowering
of the temperature during a cold rain he sometimes
sinks to the earth and dies.
The mother and the nestlings, on the contrary,
grow fat and heavy, and are looked upon as a prize
by the natives when they can find them. The babies
(there are generally two) are the queerest-looking
pink-and-white bags of jelly it is possible to imagine.
They are about the size of full-grown pigeons before
they acquire their plumage, and it is three months
after they are hatched before they are ready to leave
their nest.
When Mr. Hornbill comes to the tree he alights
on a branch or clings to the bark near the hole where
his family is, and knocks with his beak. Immediately
his wife’s beak appears at the little window and re-
ceives the small bag of fruit which he always pre-
WALLED UP. 143
sents her. The bag is the inside coating of his stom-
ach, and he grows one after the other in constant and
very rapid succession as long as his wife requires to
be fed.
If Mrs. Hornbill breaks down the partition her
mate has built up at the entrance of her apartment, or
if he catches another hornbill feeding her, the natives
say he flies away and never returns.
Hornbills, like the Chinese, are fond of their own
rmousic—which is a comfort to think of, for otherwise
it is very certain no one would appreciate it. It is
something between the shriek of a locomotive and the
braying of a donkey, with a catch in it now and then
like the laugh of a hyena. The wings of a number
flying together make a noise that we are assured may
be heard a mile off; and when a flock of birds music-
ally inclined are on the wing, their flight sounds like
a train of cars rattling past.
If you ever happen to visit the Zodlogical Garden
in London, where specimens of these birds are kept, it
will be well worth your while to give the keeper a
half crown to see them fed. Our best ball players
could take points from them in respect to the way they
catch the fruit thrown to them. No matter how fast it
comes, or from what direction, they never miss—sel-
dom, even, when two or more grapes or dates are
thrown at once. The ease and dexterity with which ‘
they use their great bills are wonderful. In picking
food from the ground, they first give it a sort of
toss and catch it before swallowing it.
144. CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
A WOOD-EATER
AND HER NEST.
Among the many substances devoured by animals
are some that seem entirely unfit to eat—mud and
poisonous plants and toadstools. The scoletus lives
upon bark and timber, and craves no other food.
She belongs to a tribe that is made up of a great
many species, and each species selects the particular
kind of wood it wishes to live upon, and will not
readily eat any other. Some prefer elm, some oak,
others ash; there .are, in fact, few sorts of timber
that do not appeal to the taste of some one of the
scoletus tribe.
The scoletus is a beetle, and she is called scoletus
because she looks as if she was sawed or cut off short
and square at both ends. The name is from the
Greek, and means ‘“ cut off short.
Madame Cut-off-Short having chosen the tree best
suited for her purpose—she prefers a sickly or dying
one—proceeds to eat her way into the bark, boring a
round hole that looks as if made by a shot. When
she reaches solid timber she burrows a long passage,
sometimes deeply into the tree, at other times between
the bark and the wood. The end of this passage
marks the end of her life, for, turning, she retraces
her steps, laying eggs as she goes at regular distances
apart along the gallery, and having reached the en-
A WOOD-EATER. 145
trance there, in most cases dies, leaving her body to
stop up the passage and protect her nursery from
possible intruders.
In course of time the eggs produce tiny white
grubs that, as soon as they are born, begin to feed
a, Scoletus full grown ; ¢, under side of same; 0b, grub; e, foot; d, foreleg ;
J, antenna; g, burrows; 2, burrows of a smaller species,
upon the substance of the tree. Instructed by an in-
stinct implanted in them by an all-wise Creator, they
start off at such an angle from the main gallery as
146 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
shall make it impossible to meet or interfere with the
burrows made by their brothers and sisters, those at
the extreme ends running very obliquely, while those
in the center are almost at right angles to the pas-
sage from which they started. Indeed, looking at the
illustration, it becomes very plain that, as the grubs
go on growing larger and their galleries widening to
accommodate their increasing proportions, if they all
started on parallel lines their galleries would soon run
together and the grubs could not come at their proper
amount of food. When they make their way into
daylight they become full-winged beetles.
Walking-stick insects.
BUTTERFLY HOUSE, 147
BUTTERFLY HOUSE.
HOW IT WAS BUILT.
A great party
of caterpillars to-
gether on a tree
in Mexico deter-
mined to build
themselves a
house. Nature
taught them how
to do it. They
began by spin-
ning a silk web
about a twig that
descended from
a large branch.
This done, they
constructed their
walls, spinning
and weaving the
silk as they pro-
ceeded, not build-
ype
Sa. =
Igy a
ee om
Butterfly house.
ing upward, as men do, but downward from the roof.
The walls of the house were constructed of silk,
so closely woven that they seemed made of parch-
ment, and the whole habitation when finished was
shaped like a bottle.
The only opening in the house
148 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
consisted of a circular door at the bottom. Through
this door the inmates were to escape when the proper
day came for them to do so. Before this, however,
and waiting for their time, they hung themselves up
on the wall by their tails and entered the pupee state,
which, you know, caterpillars do by changing their
skins and becoming pupee or chrysalids.
The little door was too small to allow the but-
terflies to escape after their wings had expanded
and dried, so that they had to be careful to get
out while they were yet moist and flexible. Before
this happened, however, a gentleman saw the nest,
captured it, and carried it away with him to England,
where it now is in the museum at Oxford, together
with specimens of the sort of butterfly that builds
such nests.
Butterfly that mimics a leaf.
WASPS’ NESTS. 149
WASPS’ NESTS.
HOW AND WHY THEY ARE BUILT.
If we will but think of it a moment, we must real-
ize, to some extent at least, how wonderful it is that
the many insects that spend the whole of their little
lives in laboring for the welfare of the next generation
can foresee and provide so perfectly and adequately
for the wants of their descendants, each in its own
particular manner, to protect their young from severi-
ties of the weather or the attacks of enemies, and
secure and store up food for their use.
Often building for these purposes, by the united
efforts of thousands of individuals, edifices that in
architectaral excellence and the expert application of
mechanical principles far surpass any structures of
the lower animals, and sometimes even those of man
himself, it adds greatly to our wonder at these marvel-
ous habitations when we remember that the creatures
displaying such knowledge and skill in their construc-
tion have served no apprenticeship to their trade, or
gone to any school or been taught by observation or
experience what to do or how to do it. A swarm of
bees or of wasps understand the business of their lives
as the stomach knows how to digest food or the heart
knows how to beat. It is far otherwise with human
beings, who know little or nothing but what they
learn by study and practice.
150 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Among insects that appear to show great ingenuity
in building their nests are the social wasps. In com-
paring their colonies and their habitations with those
of the ants and the honey-making bees, it must not be
forgotten that, unlike the commonwealths and strue-
tures of the latter, they have only a temporary exist-
ence. On the approach of winter the males and
workers perish, and of all the busy society, numbering
in the height of the season thousands of individuals,
only a few females survive that, seeking such shelter
as they can find in crevices in rocks or walls or the
bark of trees, pass the winter in a dormant state.
Awakened from her deathlike sleep by the warm
winds of spring, each of these insects forms a new
colony. At first she does double duty—she is both
queen and worker. A small nest is begun, cevs are
laid in it, and when the baby wasps—the larvie, as the
young of insects are called—are hatched she feeds
and cares for them until they outgrow their larval
condition as grubs and become perfect insects like
herself. The first brood consists of workers only.
They immediately begin to help their mother in her
household affairs, and soon leave her nothing to do
but lay eggs and assist in the care of the young.
The paper of which the nests of the social wasps
consist, as is elsewhere stated, is made of wood. The
wasps bite off particles of it from weather-beaten
clapboards of houses and partly decayed planks and
rails in fences, and by chewing it make it into pulp,
which can be easily shaped and molded, and readily
dries on exposure to the air. Like those of the honey-
WASPS’ NESTS. 151
bees, the nests of the social wasps consist principally
of combs formed of six-sided cells like those of a
honeycomb, from which, however, it differs in more
than one important respect. It consists of a single
Nest of South American wasp.
Se
D4
SY
4
gr
‘
Nest of polistes wasp.
layer of cells instead of two; these cells are usually
placed perpendicularly instead of horizontally, as are
152 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
the cells in honeycomb; and, lastly, they are made of
paper instead of wax.
In some cases, as that shown in the illustration,
the nest consists of a single comb held in place with
one or more stout stems, and is open to the air. This
is the nest of the polistes wasp; in others there is a
series of combs placed one above the other, and the
whole is covered by a shell or case consisting of a
number of thicknesses of paper.
The nests are suspended from the branches of
bushes or trees. ach cell in a comb is oceupied by
an egg, and when the grub hatches it hangs head
downward in its cell, except when the cell opens up-
ward. At first the grub is fastened in its place with
a sort of glue supplied by the workers, but it soon
grows so fat that it fits in the cell too tightly to fall
out. It receives constant attention from the workers
and females, and is fed with nectar and the juices of
fruits, and insects (for wasps are meat- as well as fruit-
eaters), and by more solid food chewed fine by its
nurses before feeding.
When the young wasp enters the winged state and
leaves its place the cell is thoroughly cleaned out and
another ege deposited in it. It takes about a month
from the time the egg is laid to that in which the per-
fect insect leaves the cell, so that it can be used several
times during a season. The perfect females, or queens,
and the males are not developed until late in the season.
Both nests shown in the illustration belong to the
polistes wasp, the one in the ellipse a European and
the other a South American variety.
WASPS’ NESTS. 153
If the ordinary social wasp queen described has to
perform double duty, that of the South American
polistes is triple. To quote a writer who has described
her manner of life:
“ The hard-worked mother has to engage in three
distinct labors—namely, the building of cells, the en-
largement of existing cells, and the nurture of the
larvee” ; for no sooner has she formed the third or
fourth cell than the eggs in the first and second have
been hatched and the larvee need to be fed. So the
mother insect, in addition to her labor as a house-
builder in constructing new cells, has to feed the
young in those already made. Soon, however, her
work increases; the grubs in the first two or three
cells enlarge so fast that it is not long before they out-
grow their rather confined quarters. The cells must
be widened to accommodate the increase in the size of
their tenants, and the tenants’ appetites increase with
their size. Surely the poor queen must long for the
time when her daughters are sufficiently grown to
help her.
The manner in which the pretty banded cells are
arranged is peculiar, and very decorative from an art-
ist’s point of view.
The other nest shows a beautiful group of radiat-
ing cells opening upward and very closely balanced
on a footstalk. Our American wasps have invented
an improvement on this nest, for the cells in theirs
open downward, and are of course not so apt to suffer
from sun and rain.
154 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
HUMAN NEST-BUILDERS.
The difference, strictly considered, between a house
and a nest may be taken to consist in the fact that a
house has walls and roof, and can be made to shut in
and hide its inmates from publie view, and inciden-
tally that it is meant for a more or less permanent resi-
dent (the word from which house is derived means “to
hide”); while a nest, open at least in part to wind and
weather, is more of a temporary than a permanent
resting place; the word nest meaning originally ‘a
place to sit down in.”
A nest is yenerally used as a receptacle prepared
by beast, bird, insect, spider, or reptile for holding
eggs to be hatched; but not always, for some birds
and beasts, and particularly some of the larger apes,
make nests for other purposes.
It is not generally known that tribes of human
beings exist who build true nests.
Diogenes, the famous Greek philosopher, who, it
is said, lived in a tub, and believed that no one should
bother himself with what he could do without, might
have learned from the Bushmen of Africa to do with-
out his tub. The favorite dwelling places of these
primitive people are caves, which they regard as
ready-made habitations that cost no trouble in pre-
paring; but in parts of the land he inhabits, where
there are no caves, the Bushman makes himself nests.
Finding a suitable bush, he arranges the boughs in the
HUMAN NEST-BUILDERS. 155
best manner he can to form some sort of a shelter,
and creeps into it. After the nest has been used for
some time young twigs grow up about it and increase
its resemblance to a huge bird’s nest, which is carried
Bushmen in their nest.
still further by the custom its occupants have of lining
it with grass, leaves, wool, or other soft materials.
It is, indeed, this nest-making habit that has given
this group of South African negroes the name of
Bushmen.
The native of Australia, whose development among
the races of human beings in the world is about on a
par with that of the Bushmen, whom in many par-
156 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ticulars he curiously resembles, is also a nest-builder.
His nests, however—scarcely worthy of the name,
though they are his only habitation—are even more
rudely built than those of the South African savage.
They are made by disposing a number of leafy boughs
partly around a space of ground varying in extent
with the number of the members of the family occu-
pying it.
These boughs form a rampart or wall from three
to four feet high, sheltering to some extent the na-
tives who sit or who lie down and sleep beneath it.
The tribes approaching nearest the utterly savage
condition of the Australians and the Bushmen are
the natives of Terra del Fuego and of Patagonia, and
these, too, build nests, consisting merely of shelters,
open in front on the side opposite that of the prevail-
ing winds.
Although so immeasurably below us in respect to
civilization, these rude tribes can teach us something.
Except so far as they have been led astray and taught
bad habits by civilized men or tribes who have learned
the vices of civilization, they use no intoxicating drug
or liquor. There are at the present day few, if any,
who have not learned to do so, but in their original
savage state they were ignorant of such things, and
were in this respect fortunate in their ignorance.
Their wants are few and easily supplied, and they
live so closely to Nature that their senses in many
respects are far keener and more cultivated than ours.
A QUEER LITTLE KANGAROO'’S NEST. 157
A QUEER LITTLE KANGAROO'’S NEST.
Among the mammals that build nests like birds,
the brush-tailed dettong is one of the most remark-
able.
In the great island continent of Australia, where
every production of Nature is so much unlike that
found anywhere else in the world that it almost seems
to belong to another planet, there exist, as might be
supposed, a great many curious animals, among which
are a number of varieties of the kangaroo tribe.
These mammals, as you very likely know, are
practically bipeds, and not quadrupeds, as are dogs
and cats, and, in fact, all beasts to which we are ac-
customed—that is, they go upon two legs instead of
four, not walking or running, but always hopping or
leaping, and some of them can make the most tre-
mendous hops, fifteen feet and more at a single jump.
They have been known to leap over the head of a man
on horseback.
It is remarkable that most Australian animals—not
true kangaroos alone, but wolves, squirrels, weasels
and badgers, rats and mice, hares and foxes, or at
least the Australian mammals most resembling these
animals—are all marsupials or pouched animals, hav-
ing, like our opossum, a pocket or pouch in which to
carry their little ones.
Among the kangaroos are some that climb trees—
although, it must be confessed, an animal of the kind
158 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
seems rather awkwardly constructed for a tree-climber
—and others that build clever little nests, generally in
a hollow in the ground which they find or dig out for
the purpose.
Of all the kangaroo tribe the tuft-tailed potoroo is
the only one, it seems, that has any prehensile power,
or power to lay hold of anything, in the tail. The
tip of this useful member has a brush of long hairs,
making a sort of tufted knot at the end, which, with
the action of the muscles beneath, gives the animal the
ability of encircling and holding on to objects with
fete,
ag f i
/ 4 ‘
a
a
my fj y
UGA ke
Potoroo carrying grass with which to build its nest.
its tail, and particularly of seizing and carrying the
bunches of grass it uses in building its nest.
The country where the tuft-tailed potoroo abounds
has no cover or hiding places, consisting, as it mostly
A QUEER LITTLE KANGAROO’S NEST. 159
does, of natural meadows or prairie land without trees
or rocks; and the question which the little creature
has to solve is how to build a home big enough to live
in, and yet small enough to escape being found. It is
not an easy problem, for the potoroo is as large as a
hare, with a tail almost a foot long, and the nest must
at times be used to shelter and conceal his little ones.
The animal solves the enigma very cleverly. First
finding or making a hollow in the earth deep enough
for his purpose, and, if possible, close to a tall tuft of
grass, it constructs over it an ingeniously contrived
roof of stalks, leaves, and blades of grass, which, being
nearly level with the ground and artfully arranged to
look like its surroundings, is as entirely hidden as if it
were twenty feet under the surface—that is, hidden
from all eyes but those of a native educated to see what
is invisible to civilized man. No potoroo, or any other
animal, for that matter, in the land where he lives can
deceive him or escape being cooked and eaten by him.
As the potoroo can not always find grass suitable
for his nest close at hand, he is often obliged to bring
it from a distance, and—were the story told by any one
less trustworthy than Mr. Gould, the great naturalist,
it would not be believed—he does this by gathering the
grass he needs into a large sheaf, wrapping his tail
around it and setting out for home as fast as he can
go, dragging his load behind him. After the little fel-
low and his family creep in, drag some grass after them
and close up the place, they are at home to no one
until the evening, when they venture forth and scratch
about and dig up roots with their strong fore paws.
it
160 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
NEST OF PIG’S FEET.
THE CHG:ROPUS (PIG FOOT) AND NEST,
Among the little mammals found in Australia that
build nests like those of birds in the grass are some
in which the peculiarities of different sorts of animals
seem curiously compounded. In the cheropus, for
Cheeropus, nest, and young.
instance, judging from outward appearances at least,
exists a union of two very dissimilar creatures—a pig
and a rabbit. The long, pointed face, and the feet
NEST OF PIG’S FEET. 161
with three tiny, sharp hoofs, are decidedly piglike,
while the great ears, soft, furry body, and mode of
progression by leaps, are peculiarities belonging no
less to the rabbit tribes.
Upon examination, however, it will be seen that
while the fore feet possess two hoofs like those of a
pig, the hinder ones have, like a horse or donkey, only
one; and, asif to add to the seeming incongruities
of the animal’s make-up, it has a pouch in which, like
a kangaroo, it keeps its little ones until they are old
enough to seek shelter in the nest of leaves and other
substances the mother makes for them. It is an
active creature, hopping about on its little limbs, no
thicker than goosequills, in pursuit of the insects upon
which it lives.
Nest of the cheirogale.
162. CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
THE SMALLEST AND PRETTIEST OF MICE,
HE BUILDS A NEST LIKE A BIRD.
His form so slender and graceful, his eyes so
bright, without a trace of the fierce cunning that char-
acterizes those of the rat ; his sleck, neatly fitting coat
of such a rich, red-brown color that shows a variation
of tint in different lights, worn with a spotless white
vest, and above all his clean and dainty habits, free
him from the repulsiveness that seems to belong to
other members of his family.
If Master Tom Thumb, as the old English fairy
tale has it, found a mouse in proportion to his own
inches, the proper size for his horse, he might with
equal justice, as far as size is concerned, have sought
a substitute for a dog among the harvest mice, for
these tiny animals when full grown are only one sixth
the weight and bulk of an ordinary mouse. A grown-
up harvest mouse measures, head and body together,
about two and a half inches, not counting his tail,
which is nearly as long as himself. And as for the
babies, they are so small that they might be taken for
young hummingbirds, which indeed they rather re-
semble.
Small as he is—much smaller than some insects
and spiders—he shows more intelligence than many a
mammal hundreds of times his size (a hippopotamus,
for instance); and his habits, clean and dainty—for he
THE SMALLEST AND PRETTIEST OF MICE. 163
has never taken to living in kitchen drains and in
slums, as have his larger cousins, but is country bred
—make him a very lovable and interesting pet.
He is wonderfully lively and active, and is seldom
quiet except when asleep, or sitting up like a little
Nest of the field mouse.
man washing his funny wee face, or eating a kernel
of corn, which is almost large enough to serve him
for a meal.
164 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
It surprises one to see how rapidly he can seamper
over the ground, or climb shrubs and plants as cleverly
as any monkey, running out on the slenderest twigs
or upon leaves or stalks of grass so slight that they
bend nearly to the ground, even with his small weight,
generally in pursuit of flies, which are the game that
harvest mice principally hunt; and it is worth while to
see how swift his leap and sure his aim when he takes
his prey.
His tail, it will be noticed, is the greatest possible
help to him in climbing, for he not only employs it
as a rope-walker uses a balance pole, but it is to some
degree prehensile—that is, it can be employed to seize
and to wrap around small twigs and branches to sup-
port him while he is climbing, in which he is also
aided by the fact that the joints of his hind feet are
so constructed that “they can be turned almost half
around, which permits great freedom of movement.”
There is something about some of these small ani-
mals that reminds one of birds. It is well known that
there are individuals among the common mice that
can sing like birds. Mr. Elliot Coues says, in the
Standard Natural History :
“There is only one capacity of the house mouse to
which I need allude, and that is its singing. A mouse
I once had presented to me was a great singer. Plac-
ing the cage in my bedroom, I turned off the gas and
retired, to give it every encouragement to proceed
with the expected programme in quiet and darkness,
but with grave doubts that it would favor me with a
song. In a few minutes, however, the little musician
THE SMALLEST AND PRETTIEST OF MICE. 165
piped up and sang very prettily—it was not squeak-
ing, but singing, musically and rhythmically, in a high
key, with a thin and wiry but not displeasing quality
—something like a weak-voiced canary bird.
“Listening for some time until I grew sleepy, I
placed this eccentric prima donna in an adjoining
room, at least twenty feet from my bed, the door
open between, but even at that distance the singing
was loud enough to disturb me, and I had to carry
the little creature downstairs before I could get to
sleep.”
Every sort of mouse makes nests, but those of
the harvest mouse are the only ones not stuffed in
holes or burrows, but built in regular bird fashion
out in the open air upon plants or shrubs. They
would certainly be mistaken by an ordinary observer
for birds’ nests, and very cleverly built ones at that,
for the reeds and grasses of which they are made be-
ing carefully prepared, each leaf separated length-
wise by the teeth of the little builder into a number
of threadlike strips, are skillfully knit together to pro-
duce firm elastic structures about the size and much
the shape of goose eggs, and suspended at distances
varying from a foot and a half to three feet above the
ground.
The nest has no opening, and yet is so completely
lined and filled with the softest vegetable materials to
be had, that one is confronted with a problem with
regard to the presence of from five to nine little mice
inside, like that we are told so puzzled King George
III about the apples in the dumpling, how they
166 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ever got there. Moreover, in addition to this, we
wonder how their mother can feed them, or how
the nest can contain them all as they grow larger, for
they seem as closely packed away as sardines in a box.
No doubt, however, impossible as it appears, the elas-
ticity of the nest allows Mrs. Mouse to get through
its meshes, and accommodates the space inclosed to
the needs of the little creatures within it.
At any rate, they all manage to escape from their
close quarters as soon as they can see and are strong
enough to provide for themselves, after which the
mother gives them a few practical instructions in the
art of making a living and then leaves them to their
own devices. It is said by close observers of their
habits that as they increase in age they improve in
nest-building.
Interior of snow house of Eskimo.
HOMES OF THE ESKIMO, WHITE BEAR,
AND SEAL.
NATIVE HOUSE-BREAKERS.
No country deserves its name less than does Green-
land. If, indeed, it were called Whiteland or Snow-
land, as the island whose people first discovered it is
called Iceland, it would be much more appropriately
named. For more than half the year its hills are
crowned with ice and its valleys filled with snow that
even in the short summer time do not melt entirely
away.
The Innuits or Eskimo who live in Greenland raise
no crops; neither trees nor shrubs nor grass are to be
found in this desolate region. In the dark winter
time these people build their huts of snow. First
tracing a circle on the ground they cut out slabs or
bricks of snow to place around it and construct a
house the shape of half a globe.
These houses are not cold, as might be expected ;
they shelter their inmates from the fierce arctic storms
167
168 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
that blow from the arctic highlands, and never melt
until the brief northern summer sets in, when they
are replaced by others made of earth and hides of
animals.
There are other inhabitants of Greenland that live
in houses of snow—the bear and the seal. The for-
mer, at the beginning of winter, after looking about
and finding a place suitable for her purpose, where
the snow will blow and drift over her, lies down and
Snow house of Eskimo.
allows herself to be entirely covered. As this covering
grows continually deeper, her breath and the warmth
trom her body gradually melt the snow about her
169
HOMES OF THE ESKIMO.
Snow house of polar bear.
in which she lives with
her babies for three months without food or exercise.
’
* until a hollow place is formed
It is well that she is loaded with fat before she
13
170 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
shuts herself up, for not only has she to sustain her-
self, but nurse her little ones ; and, as may be imagined,
it is a hungry family that makes its appearance in the
early spring when the snow softens, and then mother
bear digs her way out into the open air and into day-
light.
It might perhaps be thought that any living crea-
ture buried in snow would smother, but not only is
the snow itself full of air, but it permits air to pene-
trate through it; so much so that in a snow-house you
can tell, by holding your hand near the wall, against
which side the wind is blowing.
In this miscalled Greenland, the land of the mid-
night sun and midday moon, or where the whole year
is divided into one day and night, where the winter's
snows extend unbroken for unknown miles on every
side, in vain might the traveler seek for any sign of
life; and yet beneath his very feet may lie a com-
modious dome-shaped apartment, where in comfort
and safety reside a mother and her child.
It is the ¢g/vo, or house of the seal, who has taught
the native Innuits how to build a comfortable (com-
fortable to Innuits and seals) home of no better ma-
terial than ice and snow. In contriving a home for
her little one, Madame Seal begins by enlarging the
hole in the ice which is her door to the outer world.
Seals, although the greater part of their lives are
spent in and under the water, are air-breathing ani-
mals, and consequently must have breathing-holes in
the ice where they can at any time procure a supply
of oxygen. These breathing-places are carefully kept
HOMES OF THE ESKIMO. 171
open through the winter, every fresh crust of ice being
immediately removed, so that, no matter how thickly
the surface is frozen, the door always remains open.
Having widened the opening with the aid of the
sharp claws on her flippers, the same tools are brought
to bear on the under surface of the snow, which
thickly covers, to the depth perhaps of many feet, the
frozen sea; and a dome-shaped chamber, exactly like
the interior of the hut of a native, is scooped out be-
fore Madame Seal considers her work completed. The
snow taken away in forming her chamber is conveyed
by her under the ice, to be carried away by the
water.
The baby seal, when it is born, occupies this hid-
den home, which is only revealed by the melting snows
of summer, when its occupants have left it empty.
It is very remarkable how the seal, having once
left its hole to search for food, and chased through
many and devious courses the fish upon which it feeds,
ean ever find its way back, in utter darkness and the
complete absence of all landmarks, to its breathing-
place, which it never fails to do, bringing with it the
game upon which its little one feeds.
On rare occasions the two enemies against which
all its precautions are useless when its location is dis-
covered, invade the igloo and kill its defenseless in-
mates. These two enemies are man and the white
bear; and their plan of capturing and killing the seals
is exactly alike, except that man has to look to his dogs,
while Bruin depends upon his own nose to inform
him of the whereabouts of his prey. A slight, invisi-
172 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ble wreath of warm vapor perhaps issues from a tiny
crevice in the snow. This is enough: it tells the bear
all he cares to know of the dinner awaiting him
under the heavy crust of frozen snow upon which
he stands.
Closing his feet together in a bunch, he leaps into
the air and brings his tremendous weight to bear upon
as small a spot as possible. If not successful in break-
ing through, “Nennook,” as the bear is called by
the Innuits, will scratch away the surface and try
again; but, as might be conjectured, he seldom fails
the first time in making his way through the roof of
the igloo and descending upon its unsuspecting in-
mates.
When this takes place, the mother seal immedi-
ately plunges through the breathing-hole into the sea,
and the bear, well knowing the uselessness of attempt-
ing to catch her, contents himself with first securing
the baby, which is too young to follow its mother.
Having done so, Nennook employs a very cruel strat-
agem to secure the old seal, using her maternal in-
stinct to lure her to destruction. [ooking one of his
formidable claws into the flipper of the little seal, he
carefully lets it down into the breathing-hole and al-
lows it to struggle and writhe about in the water be-
neath.
As the old seal anxiously approaches, he slowly
and gradually withdraws the little one through the
ice toward himself, until the poor mother, enticed
within reach of the powerful claws of lis other fore
paw, is seized and secured. There is not the slightest
HUMAN LAKE-DWELLERS. 173
doubt that the Innuits, who practice the same trick,
have learned it of the bear, as they have learned their
snow architecture of the seal itself.
HUMAN
LAKE-DWELLERS,
ANCIENT AND MODERN.
VERY long time ago there were people in
different parts of Europe who built what
are called lake-dwellings, of which many remains have
been discovered. These dwellings, constructed on
platforms over the water, must have resembled those
of tribes now found thousands of miles from Europe
and from each other—in the Malay Archipelago, in
New Guinea, and in South America.
How people who never heard of each other have
learned to build their houses so much alike is a ques-
tion that has never been answered. It seems quite
natural that, as all birds of one species, wherever and
whenever they construct nests, make them pretty
much alike, so all savages belonging to the quiet,
peaceful sort who live by fishing along the borders
of lakes where they build their villages, are apt, as
if by a sort of instinct, to build them in the same
way.
In the settlements of the South American Indians
on Lake Maracaybo, in Venezuela, the life of the an-
174 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
cient lake-dwellers can be seen almost exactly repre-
sented in perhaps every respect except one, and this
is that every hamlet has its little church in the midst
of the houses of the native villagers, built as they
Houses of lake-
dwellers on Lake
Maracay bo.
are upon piles, and surmounted by a belfry, which
summons the fishermen before going out and on com-
ing home from their day’s labor to morning and
evening prayer.
As you sit in these lake houses you can hear the
water ripple underneath, and the children can fish
from the open door or window, or can dive down
from the platform on which the house is built and go
HUMAN LAKE-DWELLERS. 175
swimming to visit their playmates. As it is always
summer time in this part of the world, the water is
never too cold to bathe in, and the fishing never
fails.
The waters of Lake Maracaybo fairly swarm with
beautiful and delicious fish. For instance, the lz, a
kind of skate of a silver-white color with blue shad-
ings, is caught in abundance. It is rather a small fish,
not much over a foot long, but it is excellent eating.
A still more delicate fish is the pargo—white, tinged
with rose color—and of these great numbers are
taken. So, too, the doncello, or young lady (for that
is what doncello means), is as pretty as its name,
and so abundant that a part of the lake is named
from it. The dorado, or gilded fish, is not red or
white as are the goldfish kept in glass globes, but is
really of the color and shines with the metallic lus-
ter of gold. It is taken with a hook baited with a
white rag.
Many other kinds are cauglit, but the lake-dweller
is by no means forced to live upon fish alone. In ad-
dition, his bow and arrow help him to a supply of the
game with which the great forests that surround the
lake abounds, and he sells the product of the India-
rubber trees that are sure to grow on the shore at no
great distance from his dwelling, and buys cassawa,
or corn bread, and whatever else he needs to supply
his few and simple wants.
Why the lake-dweller inhabits such singular homes
is a question that merits consideration. With dry
ground and the firm earth close at hand, and just as
176 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
convenient for all the requirements of his calling, why
does he live where he can not get to his cabin with-
out swimming or using a canoe? He would, by
building on shore, save himself the severe labor of
moving the heavy piles on which his house is built,
and of planting them firmly in their places under the
water, which, it may be assumed, is no light task. Is
it to secure a refuge against enemies or wild beasts ?
Doubtless it may have been so among the ancient
people who first built in this way amid the cold
rocks of Alpine solitude; but the Maracaybo fish-
erman seeks to escape other foes that render the
shores of the lake quite uninhabitable. These are the
mosquitoes, that are perhaps in no country in the
world so formidable in numbers, so bloodthirsty, and
so venomous.
Such insects, although produced in wet and marshy
places, do not fly far from the land, and the lake-
dweller of Venezuela will tell you, if you ask him the
reason for his building his dwelling so far out over
the water, “It is simply to escape from the plaga de
moscas’’—the plague of flies.
In comparing the habitations of these human lake-
dwellers with the houses of beavers, we must confess
that in some respects the beaver’s house is more in-
geniously contrived. In the first place, it is built of
such material and in such a way that mere natural
decay can never destroy its usefulness ; in the next, it
is so built that it is never likely to be blown down or
destroyed by sudden storms; again, it is more secure
from attack, the door being under the water, where it
‘ FOUR-FOOTED LAKE-DWELLERS. 17%
is less likely to be seen or entered by an enemy ; and,
lastly, the beaver contrives, by building his dam, to
create a lake wherever he chooses, and he digs canals
down which he floats the materials for his habitation.
A hamlet of lake-dwellers on Lake Maracaybo.
FOUR-FOOTED LAKE-DWELLERS,
AND THEIR ARCHITECTURE.
Of all mammals the beaver is the best house-
builder, and in some respects seems the most intelli-
gent of the lower animals. There are, however, two
sorts of intelligence among animals, without counting
178 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
the reasoning faculty that is proper to man alone.
One belongs to an individual, and may be called indi-
vidual intelligence. Such is the intelligence often
exhibited by some particular dog, or horse, or mon-
key, or parrot, that renders them more teachable than
their fellows, for this sort of intelligence can be
always accurately measured by the capacity the ani-
mal possessing it exhibits to learn; the other belongs
to the race, and may be called racial intelligence.
The capacity for learning in any of the lower ani-
mals is, comparatively speaking, small; it can not be
carried beyond a certain fixed point. A parrot can not
be taught to actually converse as does a human being,
though the words it learns sometimes, among the very
many times it uses them, may seem appropriate to the
occasion ; nor can a dog or monkey be taught to dis-
play the capacity for co-operation possessed by a bee
ora beaver. Yet that a dog or monkey is individu-
ally more intelligent than a beaver no one can for a
moment doubt. The beaver has the racial, the dog,
horse, and monkey more or less individual, intelli-
gence.
A human being knows almost absolutely nothing
that is not taught him; a dog or monkey a great part
of what it knows, and a beaver almost all that it can
ever know, for a beaver individually is a rather stupid
creature. The brain, which by its size and weight
and the comparative number of its convolutions meas-
ures accurately the mental capacity of its owner, is
in a beaver small and with few convolutions. The
beaver, therefore, considered as an individual, is not
FOUR-FOOTED LAKE-DWELLERS. 179
intelligent, but as a member of a community is one
of the wisest of mammals.
It is as if man had lost all his instinctive knowl-
edge for the sake of gaining the ability to reason, and
the beaver had bargained away all possibility of indi-
vidual intelligence to gain more fully developed and
perfect intuitive knowledge and instinct. If we sup-
pose this to be the case, we may also suppose that
this is where the beaver has made his mistake.
His instinct, it is true, is all that is needed to pro-
tect him against all his natural enemies and to fulfill
all the requirements of his life. It has taught him to
build his houses of nud and sticks in the water, out
of harm’s way ; to make his door open at the bottom
of the lake or pond in which he has fixed his habita-
tion, into a passage upward that leads to a warm, dry,
comfortable chamber beneath the thick, strongly built,
domed roof of his house, where he ean rest secure
from all beasts or birds of prey, none of which have
the art or strength to enter his fortress. It has taught
him to lay up stores of fish, the bark and twigs and
limbs of trees upon which he subsists; to build dams
in order to keep the water at a proper height about
his habitation, so that it will not freeze solid in the
winter and imprison him in his house, or run, dry in
summer and expose him to the attacks of his enemies.
It has even taught him to dig canals in which to float
the trees he has felled to the dam he is building; but
it has not taught him to exist and hold his own, as
does his humble cousin the muskrat, in the presence
of man.
180 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Many races of valuable animals have been killed
off until none remain, many more are on the way and
traveling rapidly toward extinction, but certain spe-
cies that have developed sufficient individual intelli-
gence learn how either to successfully defy man or to
gain his friendship and protection. Others have de-
veloped along lines that make them s0 easily domes-
ticated and so useful that they, too, are preserved.
English sparrows, rabbits, rats, roaches, mice, and
viler creatures live and multiply in spite of all that
human beings can do to extirpate them. Dogs and
cats are useful pets. Horses, cattle, sheep, and goats
are indispensable, as are ducks and geese and poultry
generally, but most of the wild races of animals are
without doubt, with the beavers, doomed to become
extinct.
Beavers are the only mammals that practice co-
operation; others, like prairie dogs and vwiscachus,
live together in communities; but no others work in
common, as do beavers, for the benefit of the whole
community.
The beaver colony select for its home a small
stream running through a forest or grove of trees,
consisting largely of willows, birches, and poplars,
upon the bark and buds of which the animals feed.
In order to get at the twigs and fresh shoots from the
limbs, of which they are very fond, the animals eut
down trees of almost all sizes.
They do not, however, as is reported of them, fell
the trees in such a manner as to make them fall into
the water, where they can float them to the spot
A FLOATING NEST. 181
selected for their dam. The trees are cut down by
gnawing all around the trunk with the large, chisel-
shaped teeth of the animal, and gradually deepening
the cut until the tree stands upon quite a slender por-
tion of its substance—the trunk above and below
assuming the form of an hourglass, or two cones
united at their slenderest part. The smaller saplings
and the branches of the larger ones are, when the trees
fall, cut into lengths of five or six feet, which after
the bark has been eaten off are employed in strength-
ening their dam or building their lodges. The lodge
is oven-shaped ; its walls are very thick, made of mud,
strengthened with sticks of every size and shape. It
is from six to eight feet in height, and measures from
twelve to twenty feet in diameter. It contains a
chamber sometimes seven feet across and between
two and three feet high; the floors of this apartment
are covered with dried grass, chips, and the soft bark
of trees, that form a bed for its occupants. The dams
built by beavers are sometimes four hundred and fifty
or even six hundred feet in length,
A FLOATING NEST.
Wet, cold, and unclean-looking, a mass of rotting
weeds that appear to have casually floated together,
as objects in still water have a tendency to do, such is
the nest of the crested grebe, certainly the most un-
comfortable-looking nest in the world. It may be in
one place in the morning, and blown away over the
182 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
surface of the water to quite another before the day
is past ; for it floats, though how such a water-soaked
lump of vegetation can float is something of a mys-
tery: perhaps the gases evolved in the decay of its
constituent parts buoy it up. It is still more of a
mystery that it does not capsize as the large, heavy-
bodied grebe steps off or climbs out of the water
upon it. She must trim ship very expertly to prevent
such an accident.
But its peculiar construction answers one purpose
very well. Even if any one recognized it as a nest—
which is rather unlikely —he would imagine it was not
tenanted, that it was probably a last year’s empty
nest; for the four or five wet and dirty eggs, white
when first laid, but afterward stained an impure yel-
low, are sure to be covered with part of the rubbish
of which the nest is composed.
As for catching a grebe sitting on her nest, that is
well-nigh impossible. The grebes, both great and
small—there are two kinds—are the most cireumspect
of birds, keeping as far as possible in the open water,
where objects can be seen at a distance, and listening
so intently and with such a keen sense of hearing
that the launching of a boat half a mile away is
enough to alarm them.
Still, there have been naturalist detectives who
have succeeded in shadowing them and finding out
their secrets and studying their habits, wary as the
birds are. It is to the skill and patience of such men
that we owe all we know of the lives of the wilder
members of the animal kinedom.
A FLOATING NEST. 183
One of these students of Nature, Professor Jackel,
describing the little brood just after they have
emerged from the egg, writes :
“Tt is a treat to watch the little family as now
one, now another of the young brood, tired with the
exertion of swimming or of struggling with the rip-
pling water, mount, as if upon a board or a little boat,
their mother’s back; to see how gently, when they
have recovered their strength, she returns them to the
water; to hear the anxious, plaintive notes of the
little wanderers when they have ventured too far
from the nest ; to see their food laid before them by
the old birds; or to witness the tenderness with which
they are taught to dive. It is only after they are
eight days old that they are strong enough to enter
upon this last important part of their education, which
is commenced in the following manner:
“The mother bird first swims toward her little
flock two or three times, holding in her beak the prof-
fered food; but as they advance to receive it she
gradually retires before them, and at last dives with
it, thus tempting the timid little creatures to follow
her, and always at the end of the performance allow-
ing the best swimmer to obtain the tempting prize as
a reward for its exertions.”
As may well be imagined, no bird that flies is
more thoroughly aquatic than the grebe. It can
searcely be driven to take flight, though when it does
fly, its progress through the air is straight and rapid,
and accompanied with a loud, whirring noise that can
be heard at quite a distance. If surprised and pur-
184 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
sued, the bird dives, and, as it can swim under the
water two hundred feet in the course of half a min-
ute, and when it comes to the surface to breathe can
keep its whole body submerged, only allowing its
beak to appear above the surface before it dives again,
and can repeat the operation as often as occasion calls
for, it is pretty sure to escape—much more so than if
it took wing.
Papa and Mamma Grebe are an extremely attached
couple. If one by any accident strays to a distance,
the lake resounds with the anxious cries of the other
calling the wanderer back again; and if the truant
bird is within hearing—it must have gone a long way
off if it is not—it hastens to the side of its mate, and
the two, swimming together side by side, utter the
fondest notes of mutual endearment as they play-
fully caress each other.
Though rather ungainly-looking fowls away from
their native element, they are handsome birds on the
water, with their boat-shaped bodies, long, slender
necks, and small heads; their plumage is dense and
thick, and upon the lower part of the body as smooth
and glossy as satin. They have also their wedding
ornaments. When they mate, a curious collar or frill
makes its appearance along the side of the face and
neck, or in some species tufts of feathers decorated
with bright colors.
No birds live so exclusively upon the water as do
grebes, for it is only by the rarest accident that they
ever make their appearance on shore.
The lake on which they live not only furnishes
A WEB-SPINNING FISH. 185
them their daily bread in the form of tadpoles, little
fishes, frogs, and aquatic insects, but a bed on which,
while other birds are roosting high in air on the trees,
they rest, floating lightly as a cork, their legs drawn
up to the edges of their wings and their heads and
necks comfortably buried in their plumage between
their back and shoulders, and quietly sleep.
A WEB-SPINNING FISH
AND HER NEST,
Among nest-making fishes the oddest-looking,
without exception, is the antennarius. A celebrated
naturalist says of it:
“Tt is one of those strange wild forms that some-
times occur in Nature, and which are so entirely op-
posed to all preconceived ideas, that they appear rather
to be the composition of human ingenuity than beings
actually existing. The traveler who first discovered
this remarkable fish would certainly have been disbe-
lieved if he had contented himself with making a
drawing of it, and had not satisfied the rigid scrutiny
of scientific men by bringing home a preserved speci-
men.”
Not only do these fish differ from all members of
their family of other species, but they vary so ex-
tremely among themselves that hardly two specimens
are found sufficiently alike in form and color to en-
14
186 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
able the naturalist to determine their exact position
in the zodlogical scale.
Whether the habit is shared by varieties of this
fish to be found elsewhere is not known, but those
Antennarius and nest.
frequenting the Gulf Stream, off the coast of North
America, build themselves nests of seaweed, in which
their eggs are hatched. These nests consist of large,
QUARRELSOME LITTLE NEST-BUILDERS. 187
globular masses of gulf weed, filled with the spawn
of the antennarius, and bound together with threads
of glutinous matter spun by the mother fish.
QUARRELSOME LITTLE NEST-BUILDERS.
HOW THEY PROTECT THEIR YOUNG.
If the edges of ponds and creeks in most parts of
our country are carefully examined during the spring
months, numbers of bright, active little fish may be.
seen busily engaged in building their nests—for many
kinds of fish, as well as birds, build nests.
Having found a suitable bit of grass or straw, the
fish seizes it and fits the tiny fragment in its place,
after which it busies itself, for perhaps half a minute,
in securing it with a sort of web that the fish can
spin, so that it will not be washed away.
The bottom of the nest is first laid down, then the
sides and the top are built, and when it is finished it
is so nearly the exact color of the ground at the
bottom of the water that it is no easy matter to find
it, unless the eggs are visible or the fish itself is at
work. The whole structure is a little larger in cir-
cumference than a silver quarter of a dollar, and has
a top or cover with a small hole in the center where
the eggs, which are about the size of poppy-seeds and
of a bright yellow color, are placed. This opening
is sometimes, but not always, concealed by dragging
small fragments over it.
138 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
When the nest is taken from the water it does not
fall apart, but hangs together like a piece of wool or
Stickleback and nest.
cotton. The eggs when about to hatch darken in
color, until they are almost black.
For a whole month the brave little fish remains on
guard until the young ones are old enough to take
A DOME BENEATH THE WATERS. 189
care of themselves, and woe be to the intruder that
dares approach too near! The male fish immediately
dashes at it and attacks it with the utmost ferocity; a
terrible battle ensues; the combatants swim round
“and round each other with the greatest rapidity, bit-
ing and trying to pierce each other with their spines,
which stand erect like sharp thorns upon their backs,
and with which they sometimes succeed in ripping
open and killing their opponents.
When kept in glass tanks and aquariums these
little fish are a source of much interest and amuse-
ment, though, as may be supposed, it is better to let
them have a tank to themselves, and not to introduce
other and more peaceful fish to share it with them.
There are various kinds of these fish, called, after
the number of spines upon their backs, three-, five-,
ten-, and fifteen-spined sticklebacks. The fifteen-
spined stickleback lives in the sea, and makes its nest
of seaweed or coralline. It has the same habit of
guarding its eggs as the fresh-water species, and is
quite as quarrelsome. The threads spun by the
fifteen-spined stickleback resemble silk, but how the
fish spins them has never yet been discovered.
A DOME BENEATH THE WATERS.
Among all aquatic homes of man or animals, the
strangest and most interesting is that of the water
spider, who makes her house with silken walls under
190 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
the surface of the water, fills it with air, and lives in
it as in a diving bell.
Her home is egg-shaped, about the size of an
Water spider and nest,
acorn, and is secured
by lines in every diree-
tion to adjoining water
plants.
The door is on the
underside, so that the air
can not escape, open in
the summer time for the
inmate to go out and come in at pleasure, but closed in
winter while she is taking her long sleep. Here she
A DOME BENEATH THE WATERS. 191
brings her prey to eat it, and here she places her eggs,
spinning a saucer-shaped cocoon and fixing it against
the inner side and near the top. In this cocoon are
about a hundred eggs, round as bird-shot but very
much smaller.
Here the young spiders are born, and here they
remain until they are large and strong enough to take
care of themselves, when they are turned adrift by
their mother to construct other subaquatic houses
similar to those in which they first drew breath. Mr.
Thomas Bell, the English naturalist, first observed
and described the manner in which the spider manages
to fill her dome with air.
“The one now referred to,” he says, “began to
weave her beautiful web about five o’clock in the
afternoon. After much preliminary preparation she
ascended to the surface and obtained a bubble of air,
with which she immediately and quickly descended, and
the bubble was disengaged from the body and left in
connection with the web. As the nest was on one side
in contact with the glass, I could easily observe all
her movements. Presently she ascended again and
brought down another bubble, which was similarly
deposited.
“Tn this way no less than fourteen journeys were
performed, sometimes two or three very quickly, one
after the other; at other times with a considerable
interval between them, during which time the animal
was employed in extending and giving shape to the
beautiful transparent bell, getting into it, pushing it
out in one place and amending it in another, and
192 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
strengthening the attachments to the supports. At
length she scemed satisfied with its dimensions, when
she crept into it and settled herself to rest with the
head downward. The cell was now the form and
nearly the size of half an acorn cut transversely, the
smaller and rounded part being uppermost.
“The manner in which the spider possesses itself
of a bubble of air is very curious. She ascends slowly,
assisted by a thread attached to a leaf or other sub-
stance below and to some object on the water. As
soon as she comes near the surface she turns with the
extremity of the abdomen upward, and exposes a
portion of the body for an instant to the air, then
with a jerk snatches, as it were, a bubble of air,
which is not only attached to the hairs that cover
the abdomen, but is held on by the two hinder legs,
which are crossed at an acute angle near their ex-
tremity ; the crossing of the legs taking place the
moment the bubble is seized.
“ The little creature then descends more rapidly,
and regains its cell always by the same route, turns
the abdomen within it and disengages the bubble by
opening her hind feet and letting it go.”
TUBE DWELLINGS. 193
TUBE DWELLINGS,
AND THEIR BUILDERS.
The caterpillars of the caddice flies build them-
selves little portable dwellings of sticks, grass stems,
small shells, and such matters, which they drag about
after them over the bottom of the pond or stream in
which they live, as hermit crabs do the shells they in-
habit beneath the surface of the ocean.
Some of the tubes of the caddice worms, however,
are fixed, in which case they resemble not so much
the hermit crab as the so-called marine worms.
These marine worms, though called by that name,
do not in the least resemble anything we commonly
know as worms, the emblems of abasement and help-
lessness; on the contrary, they hold themselves erect
in the handsomely constructed tubes they build, and
sit like kings upon their thrones, wearing magnifi-
cent crowns of gemlike brilliancy and splendid color.
These crowns are their gills or breathing apparatus,
and also serve to convey food to their mouths. Each
of the rays that form the crown or gill tuft consists of
a translucent stem, from which springs a double row
of secondary rays like the teeth of a comb.
When looked at with a magnifying glass, the red
blood may be seen coursing along the artery and back
again by the veins with ceaseless motion, forming a
very striking spectacle. The rays or filaments are
194 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
beset with strong bristles called cilia, that are continu-
ally in motion, sweeping the water against the gills
Tube dwellings of serpu!a. Hermit crab inhabiting tube of dead serpula.
TUBE DWELLINGS. 195
and furnishing them the requisite amount of air they
have the power of extracting from the current and car-
rying the water down into the mouth, which opens at the
bottom of the gill tufts. In the water is always a sufii-
cient supply of minute marine animals to furnish the ,
serpula, as this worm is called, with the food it requires.
The tube it inhabits, like the tube of the trapdoor
spider, has a lid. This is called an operculum, from
a Latin word meaning a cover or lid.
The serpula, which gets its name from the serpent-
like coils in which its tube is constructed, seems to be
built on the reverse principle to that of a Jack-in-the-
box, which is always ready to startle the spectator
with his sudden appearance, but has to be forced back
into his box, while the serpula comes out of its tube
very slowly and cautiously, but on the slightest alarm
vanishes with lightninglike rapidity back into it, clap-
ping its door shut after it. As the tube is from six to
ten times the length of the animal that made it, the
serpula has a deep and safe retreat.
It withdraws itself into its shell by means of an
array of hooks on the upper part of the body, extend-
ing half across the back, that catch into the membrane
that lines the tube. These hooks are fastened to long
threadlike sinews, by means of which they can be
unfastened as well as fastened to the interior surface
of the tube.
There are a great number of species and varieties
of these beautiful marine worms, some of which con-
trive to form of mud and a secretion from their bodies
tubes almost as tough and elastic as India rubber.
196 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
SEA SHELLS THAT BUILD NESTS,
AND SOME THAT HAVE MADE HOMES IN THE MARBLE
PILLARS OF A TEMPLE.
If it be thought surprising, as it must be to any
one who cousiders the matter, that birds with no
better appliances than their beaks—as they do not use
their claws for the purpese—are capable of perform.
ing the delicate work necessary in constructing some
of the more wonderful masterpieces of bird architec-
ture, and that mammals, reptiles, insects, and even
erustacea and fish build burrows and nests, what niust
be thought of sea shells that do the same thin #
At first sight an ordinary snuffbox, if life and
the power of opening and closing its lid were granted
it, might scem as well equipped for constructing the
peculiar and beautiful nest of the Lima Adams, or
exeavating in solid gneiss or granite the burrows of
the pholas, as those bivalves themselves. Low is it
done? Ah, that secret belongs to them, and they
have never divulged it to mortal men. It is a prize
puzzle, and lucky the conchologist who solves it and
ean prove that he has done so; he will make his
reputation.
The lima is a beautiful shell. It is oval-oblique,
and opens auteriorly. The edge of the mantle is
fringed with long, trailing processes of a reddish
golden color, that float behind it like the tresses of
SEA SHELLS THAT BUILD NESTS. 197
a mermaid as it swims through the water. Swim ?
Certainly it can swim, or better, perhaps, fly through
the water, using the two valves forming the shell ex-
actly as some butterflies of the extensive genus Pam-
phila, popularly called “skippers,” from the short,
jerky character of
their flight, use
their wings.
When resting
upon the sea bot-
tom the lima opens
wide the valves
of the shell, as
these buttertlies do
when basking in
the sun, but when
disturbed flaps its
light shells and
darts away. <As
the shellfish settle
quietly on the bot-
tom again, they “anchor themselves securely,” says
Prof. Kingsley, describing them, “by means of their
provisional byssus, which they seem to fix with much
care and attention, previously exploring every part of
the surface with their extraordinary leechlike foot.”
The byssus, it may be remarked, is a most singu-
lar provision of Nature, a silky bundle of fibers, from
which the historian Gibbon said the old Romans
wove a costly fabric. This tuft of long filaments is
formed by a gland in what is called the foot of the
198 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
mollusk, and, issuing from between the valves of the
shell and fastened to rocks, ete., serves to anchor this
animal in its place. How the filaments are fastened
has, I believe, never been explained. The nest of
this intelligent pecten is formed of coralline shells and
sand cemented together.
The pholas, another nest-building shell, besides
the ability it exhibits of working its way into solid
rock, in which it hollows out its habitation, has other
interesting properties. It is very good to eat, for one
thing, being esteemed a great delicacy in some parts
of the British Isles, either cooked or uncooked. Eng-
The pholas in burrows which it has excavated in granite.
lish people call it piddock, and the piddock fishery is
of no smal] account in their eyes. But that which
gives it the greatest luster in the eyes of the natural-
ist is its luminosity.
Many mollusea have more or less phosphorescence,
but none, so to speak, can hold a candle to the pholas,
SEA SHELLS THAT BUILD NESTS. 199
either dead or alive. It shines in the dark with a
bluish-white light of such intensity that one immersed
in milk has served for a sort of lamp, lighting up the
faces of those about it; and of such permanence that
one kept in honey remained luminous for over a year.
Indeed, an eminent naturalist, speaking of eating this
mollusk, says: “Those who eat the pholas would ap-
pear in the dark as if they were swallowing phos-
phorus. A fisherman dining on this delicacy appeared
to be giving them an exhibition of fire-eating on a
small scale.” The perforations produced in stone by
this mollusk have furnished important testimony of
the sinking and upheaval of the earth during the pres-
ent geological period. “ Pozzuolo,” says the author of
The Ocean World, “in Italy, touches on Solfaterre
on the Lake Avernus, and is not far from Vesuvius,
and in the bay is that monument of other days erro-
neously called the Temple of Serapis. It was proba-
bly a thermal sanitarium, established for its mineral
waters, although the world has now agreed to call it a
temple. However that may be, the building has been
nearly leveled by the hand of Time, aided consider-
ably, no doubt, by the hand of man, and the ruins
now consist of three magnificent columns about forty
feet high. But the curious and important fact is that
- these columns at about ten feet above the surface are
riddled with holes and full of cavities bored deeply
into the marble, occupying a space of about three feet
on each column.
The cause of these perforations is not doubtful.
In some of the cavities the shell of the operator is
900 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
still found, and it is settled among naturalists that it
belongs to a species of pholas.
To enable the stone-boring mollusks, which live
only in the sea, to excavate this marble, the temple
and columns must have been immersed at least twenty
or thirty feet under water.
It is only under such conditions that the borers
could have labored at their ease in the marble col-
umns. But since these perforations are now visible
ten feet above the surface, it is evident that after
having been a long time immersed under water the
columns have been elevated to their present position.
The temple restored to its primitive elevation carries
with it, engraved in the marble, ineffaceable proofs of
its immersion.
A HEAD-FOOTED NEST-BUILDER.
HOW SHE CARES FOR HER EGGS.
That there should be anything at all in the way
of nest-building connected with the life history of
such a creature as the devilfish, or octopus, seems
sufficiently incredible, but that it should guard and
care for and watch over its eggs until hatched appears
even more so, The animals that live in some sorts of
sea shells build nests, but we must look much higher
in the ranks of organized creation to find anything
like eare exercised for eggs or young, except in the
A HEAD-FOOTED NEST-BUILDER. 901
case of the octopus, which has been gifted with sense
and passion far beyond any other mollusk.
In trying to get some comprehension of the re-
markable anatomy of these creatures, it may help us
to imagine some monstrous form of man or beast in
which the body is so bent that its extremities are
brought close together, and the limbs surround the
head. Instead of four, however, an octopus has eight
limbs ; these serve both as legs to walk upon or arms to
grasp and carry substances or grapple with enemies
or capture prey. They are, in fact, like eight strong,
flexible serpents united at one extremity to one head
and body, but far more formidable than serpents, be-
cause they each have their under surfaces provided
with rows of disklike suckers, that take hold with
such force and hold on with such tenacity to what
they have grasped that nothing short of tearing to
pieces the limb by which they retain their hold will
induce them to let go their hold.
The head is provided with a strong, horny beak
like that of a parrot, and large and brilliant eyes that
well express the keen alertness and savage activity of
the creature.
Besides their limbs, by the aid of which octopods
can swim and walk head downward on the bottom of
the sea, they are provided with a fleshy tube through
which they can force a stream of water that sends
them backward. In some species of cephalopods or
head-footed animals this can be done with such vio-
lence that they shoot like arrows through the water,
and even, it is said, like the flying fish, take long,
15
202 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
curved flights through the air, so as occasionally to
throw themselves aboard or over the deck of passing
vessels.
When any of the arms of a devilfish have fast-
ened upon living prey, it is at once brought to the
mouth and pitilessly crushed in its powerful jaws,
whose cutting edges fit one over the other like those
of a tortoise.
Nature has also provided this formidable creature
with an additional means of defense in the power of
ejecting a fluid of inky blackness in sufficient quan-
tity to form a thick cloud in the water and thus con-
ceal itself from its foes. It is of this dark liquid that
the sepia paint, so much used by water-color artists, is
made. Mr. Henry Lee, in his Aquarium Notes, says,
concerning the octopus :
“Our octopus fortunately selected as a suitable
site for her nest a recess in the rock work close to the
front glass of the tank, so that her movements could
be easily observed. Her body just filled the entrance
to it, and she further built it and strengthened its
defenses by dragging to the mouth of her cavern
more than two dozen living oysters and piling them
one upon another, to form the outer wall of her nest,
and serve as a breastwork or barricade, behind which
she ensconced herself.
“Over this rampart she peered with her great,
sleepless, prominent eyes; her two foremost arms ex-
tended beyond it, their extremities cviling and writh-
ing in ceaseless motion, as if prepared to strike out
right and left at any intruder. Her companions evi-
A HEAD-FOOTED NEST-BUILDER. 903
dently thought it dangerous to approach an excited
mother guarding her offspring, and none ventured
to go within arm’s length of her. Even her forlorn
The octopus at rest.
husband was made to keep his distance. If he dared
to approach to whisper soft words of affection into
his partner’s ears, or to look with paternal pride upon
the newly-born infants, the lady roused herself with
menacing air, and slowly rose until her head over-
topped the barrier.
“By an instantaneous expansion of the pigment
904 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
vesicles a dark flush of anger tinged the whole sur-
face of the body; the two upper arms were uncoiled
and stretched out to their utmost length toward the
interloper; and the poor, snubbed, henpecked father,
finding his nose put out of joint by the precious ba-
bies which belonged as much to himself as to their
fussy mother, invariably shrank from their formi-
dable contact, and sorrowfully and sullenly retreated,
to muse, perhaps, on the brief duration of cephalopo-
dal marital happiness.
“The eggs of the octopus when first laid are
small, oval, translucent granules, resembling little
grains of rice, and not quite an eighth of an inch
long. They grow along and around a common stalk,
to which every egg is separately attached as grapes
form part of a bunch. Each of the elongated bunches
is secured by a glutinous secretion to the surface of
a rock. . . . A large octopus produces in one laying,
usually extending over three days, a progeny of from
forty to fifty thousand.
“ Our brooding French octopus when undisturbed
would pass one of her arms beneath the hanging
bunches, and spreading out the loose skin on both
sides of it into a boat-shaped hollow, would gather
and receive them into it as into a trough or cradle;
then she would caress and gently rub them, occasion-
ally turning toward them her flexible tube like the
nozzle of a fireman’s hosepipe, so as to direct upon
them a fresh jet of water. I believe the object of
this syringing process was to free them from the eges
of parasitic animalcules, and possibly to prevent the
A HEAD-FOOTED NEST-BUILDER.
205
growth of conferva (water plants), which I have found
rapidly overspread those removed from her.
“Week after week she continued to attend on them
with the most assiduous care, seldom leaving them
for an instant except to take food, which she could
not otherwise procure, but which hav-
ing secured she immediately returned.
“The young octopus fresh from
the egg is about the size of a large
flea, and when irritated is much the
same color. It is very different in
appearance from an adult individual
of the same species; the arms, which
will be four or five times the length
of the body when the oc-
topus is fully grown, ap-
pear only as little conical
projections, having points
of hair-like fineness, and
arranged in the form of an
eight-rayed coronet around
the head.
“At this early stage of
its existence the young oc-
topus seeks and enjoys the
light, which it will later in
life carefully shun. It
manifests no desire to hide
Living hydra.
itself in crevices and recesses as the adult does, but
swims freely about in the water, often close to the
surface, propelling itself backward by a series of
906 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
little jerks caused by each stroke of the force pump,
which expels a jet of water from the outflow pipe of
the siphon.”
Tereules destroying fabled hydra.
AN ANIMAL ROLLED INTO A BALL,
THAT LIVES IN THE SOLID ROCK.
A sea urchin does not look very unlike a small
hedgehog or porcupine ant-eater that has rolled itself,
as these mammals are sometimes in the habit of doing,
into a prickly ball. It must, however, be confessed
that an important difference exists in the fact that
hedgehogs and porcupine ant-eaters can unroll them-
selves, while a sea urchin is no more able to do so
than the chestnut burr he so much resembles.
Bring all the points of a five-fingered starfish to-
gether, fill up the spaces left empty with substances
similar to those of which the starfish is composed, and
AN ANIMAL ROLLED INTO A BALL. 207
you have the sea urchin without its prickles; or, take
a chestnut burr, divide it into five equal sections, spread
it open, and you have a representation of a sea urchin
as it would appear transformed into a prickly starfish.
The shell of a sea urchin is one of the prettiest
objects to be found on the seashore, looking, as it does,
like some elegantly ornamented curio or globe-shaped
casket made up of a great number of hexagonal-
shaped plates, each one decorated with large and
small buttons or bosses.
This shell, unlike those of crabs and lobsters and
many other sorts that protect shellfish and insects and
1
Sea urchins embedded in solid rock.
the animals it clothes, grows larger, is cast off and re-
placed by another, must remain upon the sea urchin
as long as it lives, and the question, of course, at once
908 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
arises how it can be made to accommodate any in-
crease of size on the part of the individual it incloses?
In fact, an entire hard crust would not be capable of
distention, and it immediately is made plain that what
seems elegant ornamentation on the sea urchin’s shell,
for the sole purpose of making it look pretty, is, in
fact, a peculiarity of structure absolutely indispen-
sable to the requirements of the creature’s growth.
As the sea urchin increases in size, continual de-
posits of chalky matter are made on the edges of the
many pieces of which the entire shell is composed.
These parts thus keep their shapes though their size
enlarges. The work is done by a delicate skin which
covers the whole surface of the shell and the prickles
or spines, and, closely joined together as they seem to
be, penetrates between the separate plates and pushes
them apart by the additional material it inserts be-
tween them.
It also forms the spines, and in a wonderful man-
ner effects their union with the shell they cover ; each
spine working in a ball-and-socket joint, the ball being
one of the buttonlike bosses which ornament the hex-
agonal plates of the shell, and the socket sunken into
the base of the spe, and the spine movable in any
direction at the will of the animal.
Among these spines, of which a full-grown sea
urchin carries more than twelve hundred, there are a
number of tiny, curiously formed pincers, each of
which has three prongs. With these, as with little
hands, the sea urchin lays hold of seaweeds to steady
himself in climbing, or in picking out whatever may
AN ANIMAL ROLLED INTO A BALL, 909
become entangled among the spines, and passing it
down the sides of the body until it can be dropped
into the water.
The shell of the animal, like a terrestrial globe,
is marked with meridians, ten of them extending
from pole to pole, or from the top to the bottom of
the sea urchin. Each of these meridians consists of
double rows of plates, which fit one another closely
and firmly. ive of these meridians are called “em-
bulacral areas,” or walking parts, for through holes in
the plates extend tubes with suckers at the ends that
serve the animal as limbs and feet. Between each
two of these walking parts is another and wider
meridional space which is called * inter-ambulacral,”
or between walking parts, which bears spines instead
of tube limbs.
As a sea urchin has legs all around his body, it
really does not matter whether he walks upright, on
his side, or upside down, or turns himself, as he some-
times does, like a ball cols slowly along, over and
over as he advances.
The mouth, situated at the bottom of this strange
animal, has no less than five jaws, each provided with
a long, projecting, movable tooth. A complicated
muscular system works the jaws up and down and
across each other, so that a better mill for grinding up
the sea urchin’s food could not be invented. Nor is
this all or the strangest part of it, for these same jaws
are able to hollow out homes for the animals in solid
rock, in sandstone, and the hardest granite. That
they do it no one can doubt; how they do it no one
210 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
can tell, for their teeth are not superior in hardness
to those of other animals; certainly not nearly as hard
as the rocks into which they burrow. The hole which
the sea urchin forms in stone is large enough to allow
him to move about, but not to come out very easily ;
indeed, he adheres so firmly with his suckers to the
cavity as not to be easily forced to quit his hold.
A NEST IN A WATERFALL.
AMERICAN DIPPERS.
These little birds, which are in reality thrushes,
combine, says Dr. Cooper, “the form of a sandpiper,
the song of a canary, and the aquatic habits of the
duck.”
Although its feet are not webbed, the dipper is in
some respects more of a water bird than is a duck,
for in search of its food, which consists almost alto-
gether of water insects, it descends to a depth of sev-
eral feet, walking about on the bottom and flying
beneath as easily as it does above the surface of the
mountain streams it frequents.
The dense, thick plumage of the dipper, unlike
that of any other land bird, is furnished with an un-
dergrowth of downy feathers. While under the
water the coat of the dipper, through which no damp-
ness can penetrate, shines like silver, on account of
the air bubbles adhering to it.
The home of the
Ainerican water
thrush.
912 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
In places where the birds are sufficiently numer-
ous they will take possession of a mountain stream
from its source to its mouth, each family occupying
about a quarter of a mile of its length, and never in-
truding on the domain of its neighbors.
They are very quick and queer in their move-
ments, flying with a rapid buzzing of the wings, and
following closely every turn and elevation or depres-
sion in the level of the stream, until they drop sud-
denly and disappear beneath its surface.
“When there is snflicient depth for a plunge,”
says Prof. Nuttal, “they open their wings and drop
them with an agitated motion, and with the head
stretched out as in the ordinary act of flying in the
air, descend to the bottom, and there, as if on dry
land, course up and down in quest of food.”
Mr. Mudie observes, in regard to this: “ A question
has been raised how the dipper can keep beneath a
fluid so much more dense than itself. An owl to an
owl’s bulk of air is as eight pounds to one as com-
pared with the dipper’s bulk of water to the dipper;
but if birds ascend into the air at pleasure by the
motion of their wings, it is only reversing those mo-
tions to enable them to descend or keep themselves
down in the water. The difference in specific gravity
between the bird and the water is indeed so trifling
that very little effort is needed to move it in any di-
rection downward or sideways.
“Birds do not fly because they weigh little, for
with equal wings the heavier birds fly best; they do
so because they strike the air more forcibly in the op-
A NEST IN A WATERFALL. 213
posite directions and send themselves forward in the
way they wish to go, their greater weight enabling
them to make better headway through the opposing
air.
“The dipper does just the same. If it wishes to go
downward, it strikes upward with its wings; to come
The American dipper. .
up, it does the reverse. The only difference is that the
wings are held recurved, as running birds use them,
and gravitation has even less to do with the matter
than in flying.”
The nest of the dipper is placed as near the water
as possible. Dr. Cooper found one built under the
roots of an enormous tree that had floated over and
rested in a slanting position against the dam of a saw-
914 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
mill on the Chehalis River. The floor was of small
twigs, the sides and roof, arched over it like an oven
and formed of moss, projecting so as to protect and
shelter the opening, which was large enough to admit
the hand. Within this nest was a brood of half-
fledged young. The parents were familiar and fear-
less, and accustomed to the society of the millers.
Another nest described by the naturalist was built
at the foot of a milldam, resting on a slight ledge
under an overhanging rock, from which water was
continually falling. It was shaped like an oven with
a small doorway, and was built of moss green and
growing, so that it was no easy matter to discover the
nest. It was lined with soft grass and contained
young.
A number of nests have been found built upon
rocks behind cascades, where they were kept contin-
ually wet by spray from the falling water, showing
this to be a favorite locality for the birds in building
their homes. In leaving and returning to their young
it was necessary to dash through a sheet of falling
water. The dipper is the only aquatic song bird, and
its song is very sweet and musical.
PORTABLE HOUSES. 215
PORTABLE HOUSES.
CAMELS CARRY THE VILLAGES FROM PLACE TO PLACE.
The Turcomans, who live on the eastern shores of
the Caspian Sea, carry their villages about with them
as they travel. When a tribe sets out on a journey,
every man packs his wooden house upon a camel,
which the animal can easily carry; and after a spot
is reached where he and his friends intend to remain
any great length of time, the camels are unJoaded and
a village started, which it takes about an hour or so to
build.
It is to be remembered that the houses are real
houses, and not tents, and that the settlement is not a
camp, but a village.
The traveling house of the Turcoman is a marvel
of skill and ingenuity, and is really much lighter, more
portable, and can be packed into a much smaller com-
pass than any of the so-called portable houses that
are manufactured and sold in some parts of our
country.
The frame is made of strong, light wood laths
about an inch broad by three quarters of an inch
thick, crossing each other, when set up in position, at
right angles, about a foot apart, and fastened at each
crossing by thongs of rawhide, so as to be movable,
and the whole framework may be opened or shut in
the same manner as those toys for children that con-
916 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
sist of a squad of wooden soldiers and will expand or
close at will so as to form open or close columns.
One frame or more made in this way, inclosing a
circle fifteen or twenty feet across, forms the skele-
Tureoman’s portable dwelling.
ton of the walls, which are firmly secured in places by
bands or ropes made of hair or wool, fastened around
the end of each rod.
From the upper end of these rods, similar rods,
bent near the wall end into something less than a
right angle, are so disposed that the longer propor-
tions slope to the center, and, being tied with ropes,
form the roof. Over this is thrown a covering of
black felt, having in the center a large hole which
answers both for a window and a chimney.
Large pieces of the same coarse black felt are
wrapped around the walls; and outside these, to keep
PORTABLE HOUSES. akg
all tight, is bound another frame of split reeds or
canes, bound closely together with strong cords,
the pieces being straight up and down. This is
itself secured by a broad band of woven hair stuff
passed around the whole structure and united at the
ends.
The large opening at the top can be closed, if
needful, with a piece of felt, which is drawn on or off
by a strong cord, like a curtain. If there is danger
from the wind, a stick is placed on the side opposite
from which it blows, which supports the fabric.
Sometimes the house is divided into two apart-
ments by means of a screen of split reeds; but if
more rooms are needed, separate houses are generally
put up.
Upon the black tops of these houses may be seen
large white masses of sour curd pressed out of butter-
milk and put there to dry, to be set aside for future
use. This, broken up and mixed with water, forms a
very refreshing drink.
Carpets of felt are spread inside the house. These
are sometimes made in the shape of a horseshoe, with
a hole cut in the center for a fireplace, and the two
ends cut off, so that those who do not wish to take off
their boots may have a place to sit without soiling the
carpet with their muddy soles.
There is no furniture except the trappings of the
camels, the saddles and bridles of the horses, and the
bags in which things are packed; but swords, guns,
bows, spears, and arrows, with odds and ends of all
kinds, may be seen hung on the ends of the wooden
16
918 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
rods, which form very convenient pins for the pur-
pose.
The folks who live in these portable villages are
strange people. If they should catch you in one of
their robbing expeditions—for they are a nation of
robbers—they would take away everything, even your
freedom, and treat you with the utmost cruelty; but
if you should come to them as a visitor, even though
a perfect stranger, they would entertain you as a
brother, feed you, perhaps clothe you, give you a
horse to ride, and provide as far as they could for
the rest of your journey.
Their villages are generally square, inclosing an
empty space or forming a broad street, the houses
being placed on either side, with their doors toward
each other.
But although these portable houses of the Turco-
mans are so skillfully contrived, they can scarcely be
said to be as light and handy for their occupants as
the shells used by the hermit crab, who, instead of
having to employ other animals, as the Turcoman
uses camels, to carry his house, seems to find little
trouble in taking it with him, wherever he goes, on
his own back.
PORTABLE HOUSE OF THE HERMIT CRAB. 919
THE PORTABLE HOUSE OF THE HERMIT
CRABS,
AND WHAT ARE CARRIED ON THE ROOFS.
The hermit crab is by no means a solitary individ-
ual, since many are often found together. He can
scarcely lay claim to so respectable a name, and might
much more appropriately have been called the robber
burglar, or even the assassin crab, since he often gets
possession of the portable dwelling in which he lives
by killing and eating its rightful inmate and possessor.
But the law that governs the lives of lower animals,
whatever may be that obeyed by man, isa very simple
one—to eat, and not be eaten; and all their wonderful
instincts, aside from those connected with their young,
are directed to this end.
Having eaten, and made his dinner serve the
double purpose of satisfying hunger and obtaining for
him a protection against being eaten, the hermit crab
proceeds to back into his new dwelling and fill it up
with his soft unprotected hinder parts, while he al-
lows his strongly armored limbs and formidable claws
to project in front.
As he walks about he drags his house after him
and bids defiance to his enemies, for he is a great
fighter and always ready for single combat with his
kind.
While still young and of small size hermit crabs
220 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
live in shallow water on the coast, but as they grow
older they retreat to the deeper waters, whence fisher-
men bring them up in vast quantities in their drag nets.
Having once obtained lodgings, a hermit crab re-
mains in them as long as possible, for he does not .
like moving; and when he is forced to change his
shell he takes care to select one too large for present
use, so that he will have room to grow for some time
without being obliged to quit his quarters.
The soft stomach with which hermit crabs are
provided, and which perfectly fits and lodges in his
borrowed shell, is often cooked and eaten together
with his claws in Europe, where, by sailors at least,
they seem to be considered a great luxury ; but tastes
differ, and I doubt if many people in the United
States would relish such food.
Sometimes the drag net brings in great specimens
of a shell called Buccinida, inhabited by a hermit crab
of a particular kind, and fastened upon it a beautiful
sea anemone. The strangest part of all this is, that
this particular kind of shell seems to be monopolized
by one species of hermit crab, and the anemone is
never found on any other shell or upon one of those
that contains the animal to which it properly belongs,
being invariably fastened to a Buccinida inhabited by
a hermit crab.
How is it that these two creatures so different in
organization always associate together ? The anemone
has no eyes and no limbs, and can creep about only in
a very lame and tardy fashion; the hermit crab sup-
plies both. It is as if a blind and crippled soldier,
PORTABLE HOUSE OF THE HERMIT CRAB. 991
Hermit crab with sea anemone on its back.
who nevertheless knew how to defend himself and his
friend, were mounted on the back of a nimble-footed
companion.
922 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
The Aduwinséw, which is the name by which the
anemone is known, is nourishel by the food waste of
the hermit crab, and it is even said that the latter
carries his kindness so far as to use his claws to give
food to his friend. The anemone is evidently a use-
ful associate, preventing any approach of enemies
with her numerous feelers or tentacles, which, in-
deed, have the power of stinging and paralyzing
troublesome visitors.
A very significant fact proves the friendliness of
the association, It has been already stated that as
the hermit crab increases in size he is obliged to
change the shell he inhabits for a larger one. But
then arises the question, What is to become of the
abandoned anemone? When the hermit crab finds
his quarters are too
close for comfort-
able habitation, and
sets out and finds
another and a lar-
ger shell, he makes
this fact known—
how, no one but
hermit crabs and
ZS anemones know,
Hermit crab inclosed in a mass of polyps and they have
which entirely cover the shell in which
it lives, never revealed the
secret—to his com-
panion, who hastens to creep up and slip softly on the
back of its friend’s shell. Then the hermit enters its
new dwellings and the old association is re-established.
A WARU HOUSE. 293
If, as sometimes happens, the anemone becomes de-
tached from the shell inhabited by the hermit crab,
the latter takes it carefully and tenderly in its claws
and replaces it.
A WARU HOUSE,
AND THE FOOD PREPARED IN IT.
Houses are really indispensable in proportion to
the inclemency of climate. They are needed most,
perhaps, as shelters against wet and cold weather.
Of course, they have many other uses to us; but it
may be imagined that even a person accustomed to
civilized life could more easily do without one where
“The skies never weep and the leaves never die,”
than here in our own land, to say nothing of those
parts of the world where the climate is more severe.
The native Indian of Guiana has no conception of
home in our sense of the word. It would be impos-
sible to give him or any other savage an idea of the
meaning the word has to us. It is one of the most
complex of words, and belongs alone to our race and
civilization.
In the same way the word houseless, which de-
scribes as forlorn and pitiable the condition of
“The houseless wretch for whom no hearthstone glows,”
means little or nothing to people whose houses are
mere temporary cabins put up with at most but a few
994 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
hours’ work, and abandoned as carelessly as a sports-
man in our forest abandons the shack he has built to
camp in while hunting in the vicinity.
To the Guiana Indian a house is a place to hang
up his hammock, and-those of his wife and children,
and often of his friends and their wives and children.
«\ popular writer, in describing one of these habita-
tions, Says:
“Their architecture differs considerably, accord-
ing to the district. Asa rule, the climate is so warm
that houses are but little needed, all that is required
being a simple roof overhead. The ordinary kind of
habitation is nothing more than a mere shed or sort
of barn, without the walls, supported on posts and
thatched with leaves.
“ From the posts and rafters are hung the personal
goods of the natives, such as pans, paddles, clubs,
guns, bows and arrows, and similar articles, while
from one or two of the crossbeams is sure to be
hanging the singular cassava press. Between the
upright posts, and sometimes from the transverse
beams, are suspended the hammocks, some of which
are almost invariably occupied, as the master has a
natural genius for lying in his hammock when not
absolutely obliged to be upon his feet. The number
of hammocks under a single roof is almost incred-
ible. They are hung in tiers, one above the other,
like the berths on board a passenger ship, and when
thirty or forty of them are occupied at once it seems
rather wonderful that the building should be able to
stand such a strain.
A WARU HOUSE. 995
“ As the inhabitants move about or get into and out
of their hammocks when replenishing the nightly fires,
whose smoke is the only defense against mosquitoes
A waru house.
and other winged pests, the whole building rocks, the
joints creak, and the house seems on the point of
coming down. But the junctions of the beams and
posts and rafters are so firmly tied that they are far
stronger than they look, and, however fragile the shed
926 CURIOUS IIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
may seem, it is quite equal to any strain it may
have to endure.”
The Rev. Mr. N. H. Brett, who has given an ex-
cellent account of the Indian tribes of Guiana, says
that, rude and simple as these houses seem to be,
the place where one is built is not chosen without con-
siderable care and judginent. In the first place, it
must be within easy walking distance of a creek or
river, not only that the women may with the less
labor be able to supply water needed for household
purposes, but that the canoes belonging to the owners
of the house may be within easy reach for hunting
excursions, or for one of the migrations which so fre-
quently occur and is liable to happen at any time
among these people.
It must be in a retired and sheltered spot, where
the household will not be likely to be invaded by un-
welcome visitors, travelers, and the like, or any sort
of strangers; for the Indian, rude as he is, values
domestic privacy, and does not like surprise parties ;
and, as a last requisite, it must be upon soil light and
sandy and easy to cultivate.
The forests inhabited by these people abound in
game, and their waters with fish, so that they have the
less need to cultivate their lands. In fact, their prin-
cipal vegetable food is cassava, which is much the
same as tapioca.
The principal source of supply is a plant called
Jatrophiu mméihet, the juice of which is so deadly
that a very small dose will kill a person. This is
true, however, only when the plant is fresh. Dried,
A WARU HOUSE. 997
pressed, and baked, it is as wholesome as any; though,
perhaps, if some of our careful sisters and aunts and
mothers knew that fresh tapioca is a deadly poison,
they would be a little timid about using it.
The tapioca is prepared by shredding the roots—
the part of the plant used—into thin shavings. This
is done by means of a board into which is fastened in
regular rows a number of pieces of sharp stone or, of
late years, iron nails, over which the roots are dragged.
The next process in order is to get rid of its poi-
sonous juices in various ways, by subjecting it to
pressure of some kind, but lastly and most effectually
by putting it into what is called the “pita or native
press.
The tipita is an elongated cylindrical basket. This
basket, woven of the bark of a particular kind of
palm tree, is very elastic in the middle, and quite stiff
and unelastic at the ends. It is first stuffed as tightly
as possible with the shredded cassava, which naturally
has the effect of making it very much shorter and
very much thicker in the middle. Beneath the tipita
is placed a bowl of coarse earthenware, such as these
Indians make, to catch the juice. <A great stone, or
something as heavy as possible, fastened to the lower
end, elongates and narrows it and forces out the juice
that yet remains in the cassava. A pole is then fas-
tened in a strong loop at the lower end of the tipita,
and the shorter end secured to one of the posts sup-
porting the roof; upon the longer end of the pole is
then hung the weight, which is further increased by
an Indian, or, it may be, as many as can conven-
228 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
iently do so, perching upon this end and bringing a
proportionally powerful leverage to bear upon the
tipita.
There is, however, something that yet remains to
be explained concerning this process. Why should
The anhimia.
the juice that drips from the tipita be collected and
preserved ? The cassava is freed from it, because it
is poisonous. If any one drank of it he would die
in great agony—that is, if he drank of it before it
was boiled. Before it is boiled it is a deadly poison ;
after it is boiled it is wholesome sauce, and to the
taste of the natives a delicious one. There would
A HOUSE THAT WEARS A HAT. 229
be, however, for either the reader or writer of this
account of it a fatal objection to its use. It is the
chief ingredient in what is called pepper pot through-
out the West Indies, and as used by the Guiana
Indians is so highly seasoned with red pepper that
when the white traveler, pressed by his hospitable
Indian host, who has served him with cassava bread
and cassareep sauce, tastes it, the tears start to his
eyes. He does not care for anotser mouthful—he
knows when he has had enough!
The more stationary and settled Indians in Guiana
and Venezuela keep great numbers of domestic fowls,
which, strange to say, in the absence of any inclos-
ure are kept from straying by a rather large bird
called the anhimia. This faithful creature takes the
most excellent care of them, leading them out in
the morning and bringing them back safely at night.
The anhimia will fight for her charges, and can suc-
cessfully resist the attack of any hawk, or the smaller
wild: cats that abound in the forests.
A HOUSE THAT WEARS A HAT.
HOW IT IS BUILT.
A dwelling the construction of which, consisting
as it does of galleries surrounding a central chamber,
that suggests, although built aboveground, the habi-
tation of the mole, is that of a remarkable people of
930 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
southern Africa visited by Dr. Anderson—the Maka-
lolo tribe.
The women are the house-builders. It is all the
hard work they do, but they doubtless think it
enough.
"The house is begun by planting a circle of stakes
in the earth so that they will project nine or ten feet
aboveground; reeds and weeds are next woven in
and out of the stakes, and a cylindrical wall is formed
by plastering the whole with mud made from ant-
hills, which, as you probably know, are of immense
size in Africa. This sort of material makes a very
smooth, firm, and even surface. The floor is plas-
tered as well as the walls; this is a great improve-
ment on the floor of earth in most native huts, as it
can be kept clean and does not harbor insects.
The central circular chamber being finished, a large
conical roof, shaped like the hats worn by Japanese
and Chinese coolies or workmen, is constructed. This
is, in fact, the hat the house is to wear. All the
workwomen place themselves about it where it is
made, lift it from the ground, and carefully set it
upon the circular tower they have built.
As the rim of the great hat projects considerably
beyond the plastered cylinder, it is supported by
pillars consisting of stakes driven into the ground,
which are made into a partition reaching almost to
their summits by means of interlacing reeds and
plaster made of earth obtained from ant-hills. An-
other wall built upon stakes that meet and support the
extreme ends of the rafters, but only about half as
A HOUSE THAT WEARS A HAT. 931
high as the interior one, completes this strange edifice,
consisting of three rooms, the two outer ones in the
form of circular galleries, and the inmost a cylin-
drical-shaped chamber.
The thatched roof, or hat, is not permanently
fixed to the walls upon which it rests. It can be lifted
off in pleasant weather, opening up the inside cham-
wa pinsbyicn 2.5 alte oF gs Sig:
Building the house that wears a hat.
ber to the fresh air, which is the more desirable as
there is absolutely no other means of ventilation pro-
vided, except an absurdly small door a little more
than a foot and a half high, and very little wider. A
932 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
well-grown white child might find some difficulty in
creeping into some of the smaller doorways, not to
speak of an adult; but a native Makalolo seems to
make his way through easily enough, though how he
manages to exist in the close atmosphere inside is a
difficult question to answer.
When there is any lack of accommodation for
visitors—as there always is, for every house is fully
occupied—the Makalolos doff their roof instead of
their hats, and taking it from the walls place it upon
the ground at the disposal of their guests, who,
though its accommodations are decidedly limited,
make shift to creep under it and shelter themselves
there, while the inmates of the house remain roofless
unless they happen to have an extra roof or so for
such occasions.
Although the Makalolo women are the only house-
builders in the tribe, they have so much unoccupied
time on their hands that they are apt to fall into idle
habits; for, contrary to the habits of savages gener-
ally, the men do all other hard work.
DWELLINGS IN SKELETONS OF WHALES,
AND HOUSES OF SAND.
Perhaps the strangest dwellings ever occupied by
human beings were those found on the shores of
Encounter Bay, in Australia. Whether any yet sur-
vive the march of civilization may be questioned, for
DWELLINGS IN SKELETONS OF WHALES. 933
the aboriginal people who inhabited them are disap-
pearing like snow in midsummer. Not many years
ago, however, they were sufficiently numerous to
attract the attention of travelers in that wonderful
country.
The Australians, who are without any doubt the
most primitive of people, are also the most omnivorous.
They, like our Digger Indians, will eat anything that
can be chewed and swallowed, and some things that
can not, as, for instance, the roots of bulrushes, which
are of so fibrous a nature that it would be as easy to
swallow a skein of yarn; and certain shellfish which,
though they may perhaps be swallowed, are no more
to be chewed than so much sole leather.
The native Australian relishes fried tadpoles and
roasted caterpillars, and fairly luxuriates on fricasseed
snakes and lizards. The greatest possible treat, how-
ever, is whale’s flesh. A dead one is now and then
washed ashore, and as its “ancient and fishlike smell”
penetrates throughout the country for miles around,
the natives follow their noses down to the shore where
it is stranded and gather about it with great rejoicing.
Enormous as is the supply, the demand is so great
that in a comparatively short time nothing but the
skeleton remains. This forms the framework of a
house, the ribs and backbone constituting the arched
roof, which is covered with leaves, grass, and matting
to render it impervious to wind and rain. Like mice
in a cheese, the Australians eat out the inside and then
make their home in the shell of their food supply.
On another part of the Australian coast the dwell-
17
934 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ings of the aborigines are formed of a framework of
sticks, over which is plastered a thick layer of turf
and mud; this is covered with sand, so that a village
of Milmenduras, as these people are called, would
never be taken for anything else than a collection of
sand heaps overgrown, perhaps, with the abundant
creeping plant, the monterry, which bears a small fruit
resembling in form and taste a miniature apple.
A HOME IN A HORN,
AND THE ANIMAL THAT LIVES IN IT.
A mammal that makes its home in the born of a
sheep is certainly a novelty. But such a dwelling
place is no novelty to the animal, for from time im-
memorial he and his ancestors have had no other.
Giants among their kind, the mountain sheep not
only surpass all others in stature, but their horns, in
proportion to the animal that carries them, are far the
largest borne. Among these huge sheep the urgale
of Siberia is pre-eminent, being almost equal in bulk
and weight to an average-sized ox, and the horns he
bears are proportionally enormous.
Much resembling those of our own Rocky Moun-
tain sheep, the horns of the urgale are yet larger.
Springing upward from the forehead, they curve
backward and with a bold sweep descend below the
muzzle, then, recurving upward, taper off to a point.
A HOME IN A HORN. 935
They are hollow and, though stout and elastic, and
buttressed and strengthened wonderfully by a series
of ridges or horny rings set close together, are often
badly bruised, battered, and broken in the fierce com-
bats waged by rival rams fighting for the leader-
ship of the flock. This has given rise to a story told
of the ibex, and the Rocky Mountain sheep as well,
that the animals use their horns as buffers. “ A ram,”
we are told, “leaping from a great height, alights
upon them, and their strength and elasticity, breaking
his fall, saves him from a shock that would otherwise
prove fatal.” If this were really the case, it would
be a pity that the female sheep, whose horns are com-
paratively light and small, are deprived of so useful a
safeguard.
The fact is, however, that no living mammal,
especially no mountain sheep, whose necks are not
especially large or strong in proportion to the size
and weight of their bodies, could survive such a man-
ner of alighting.
Though the horns of the argali are larger than
those of his American cousin, it would seem that they
are not as strong, for, firmly set as they appear to be
upon his forehead, they are sometimes broken com-
pletely off.
When the native hunters kill one of these animals
they either use the horns—which are capacious enough
to contain several gallons of liquid—as vessels in
which to carry a supply of water, or convert them into
various articles of domestic economy. Nor are those
broken off in the shock of battle allowed to lie un-
936 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
noticed upon the ground where they have fallen, but
are soon utilized by the Siberian fox, who not only
stows itself away in it as snugly as a hermit crab in a
sea shell, but employs it as a dwelling place in which
to nurse and rear its little family in comfort and
safety.
A CITY OF BIRDS.
THE PENGUINS.
as seals and walruses, that
can not walk, so there
are many kinds of birds
—-some, strange to say,
with large and well-
developed wings—that
can not fly. The pen-
guin, properly speaking,
has neither legs nor
a wings ; what answer for
Rock-hopper penguin. the latter are paddle-
shaped limbs something
like the flippers of seals; and the legs of the bird are
so illy adapted for walking, that while some species
can shuffle along much like a person whose feet are
inclosed in a narrow sack, others can not walk at all,
and get about on shore by jerking themselves for-
ward with a hitch anda short jump.
A CITY OF BIRDS. 237
But, though as helpless on land as the seals, to
whose manner of life theirs bears in many respects
so great a resemblance, they are, like the latter, per-
fectly at home in the
water, which they
never leave except
to lay their eggs and
rear their young.
Indeed, it may be
said that they be-
long to the ocean al-
most as much as do
certain fish that oc-
casionally land and
creep about the
beach; for they not
only swim upon the
surface, but, like dolphins and porpoises, sound the
depths of the sea in search of the crabs and marine
animals upon which they feed, and fly about under
water as other birds do in the air.
Wonderful stories are told of the breeding places
and habitations of these strange, fishlike birds. This
is told us by Mr. Louis Figuier: “At certain pe-
riods of the year the penguins assemble on the
beach as if they had appointed a particular day for
the purpose. These assemblies last for a day or two,
and are conducted with evident solemnity. When
the meeting results in a decision they proceed to
work with great activity.
“Upon a ledge of rock sufficiently level and of the
is
a
Old penguin and nestling.
938 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
necessary size they trace a square, with one of its sides
parallel and overlooking the edge of the water, which
is left open for the going out and coming in of the
colony ; then with their beaks they proceed to col-
lect all the stones in the neighborhood, which they
heap up outside the lines marked out, to serve them
as a wall to shelter them from the prevailing winds.
During the night these openings are guarded by sen-
tinels.
“They afterward divide the inclosure into smaller
squares, each large enough to receive a certain num-
ber of nests, with a passage between each square.
No architect could arrange the plan in a more regu-
lar manner.”
Penguin city is laid out with streets and lanes,
along which groups of citizens may constantly be seen
going to or coming from the water.
Dr. Bennett, in speaking of one of these cities, says
it occupied from thirty to forty acres of ground; and
so numerous were its inhabitants, that during the
whole day and night from thirty to forty thousand
of them are continually going to sea, and as many
landing.
“They are,” he says, “ when on shore, arranged in
regular ranks, in as compact a manner as a regiment
of soldiers, and are classed with the greatest order,
the young birds in one place, the molting birds in
another, the sitting hens in a third, and the clean
birds, in perfect feather, in a fourth; and so strictly
is this order kept, that where a bird endeavors to in-
trude itself in a class to which it does not belong, the
A CITY OF BIRDS. 239
trespasser is immediately driven out from the precincts
he has invaded.”
Another species—the gentle penguins, commonly
called Johnnies—build hamlets and villages of from a
Penguins running.
dozen to seventy and one hundred and fifty families
or more. Rev. A. E. Eaton has written a description
of a small community of these birds at Royal Sound,
Kerguelen Island, which, as you may know, is situated
very far south, in the Indian Ocean. He says:
“The birds occupied a position on the neck of a
low promontory within an hour’s walk of Observa-
940 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
tory Bay. Their nests were nearest the farther side
of the isthmus, but when they were approached the
male birds would run to the water, not by the short-
est route where it was deep, close to the rocks, but by
the longest, to a place where the shore was shelving.
“It was amusing to see a troop of them start off as
fast as their abbreviated apologies for legs would allow
them, holding out their ridiculous-looking wings like
the sleeves of coats so long as to conceal the wearer’s
hands, and tumbling headlong over stones and other
obstacles in their way, simply because, instead of
looking to see where they were going, they would
persist in gazing backward at their pursuers, and
shouting and scolding at the top of their voices.
Panic seemed to possess them all, but the females,
allowing their mother-love to overcome their fear,
soon returned to their nests, and, if the intruder stood
still, soon settled down again upon their eggs.
“Not many weeks passed before a change took
place in their behavior. The young were hatched,
and now the mothers anxiously endeavored to per-
suade them to follow the example of their fathers
and run away to sea. But the nestlings much pre-
ferred to stay in their nests; they did not care if the
stranger did stroke them, althongh their mothers
would run at him with open beaks if he dared to do
so. Only a few of the older chicks could be prevailed
upon to stir, and they, after waddling a few yards,
became satisfied with their performance and turned
to go home again. Their mothers, who had straggled
to a greater distance, began also to return.
A CITY OF BIRDS. 241
“The tardy youngsters now began to experience
the ills of life. Every penguin that had reached its
place aimed blows at them as they passed on the way
to their own abodes.
“One of these little birds certainly did seem to need
correction. It saw its neighbor’s nest empty and sat
down in it. The old female Johnny, the rightful
occupier, presently returned in company with her own
chick, to whom, after having put her head well into
his mouth, she began to administer refreshment after
his run. Seeing them so pleasantly engaged, the
small vagrant, thoughtlessly presuming on her gener-
osity, presented himself to be fed, as if he also had a
right to her care and attention.
“She looked at him as he stood gaping before her
with drooping wings, unable for a moment to credit
what she saw. But suddenly the truth flashed upon
her, and, provoked by his consummate audacity, she
gave vent to her indignation, pecked his tongue as
hard as she could, chased him out of the nest, darting
blows on his back and croaking ominously as he fled
precipitately beyond the reach of her beak, leaving
trophies in the form of shreds of his downy coat
upon the scene of his unfortunate adventure.”
949 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
FEATHERED GARDENERS,
AND THEIR BEAUTIFUL CABINS.
Birds build houses and lay out gardens and play-
grounds.
Faney encountering in an unexplored land, in the
recesses of a primeval forest, far away from human
habitation, a tiny cabin set in miniature pleasure
grounds studded with brilliant flowers.
That such a piece of workmanship, more lovely
than the ingenuity of any mere animal has ever be-
fore been known to construct, is in reality built with
beaks or claws, is probably an idea less likely to enter
the mind of the discoverer than that fairies, after all,
do exist, and, flying from civilized lands, have found
refuge here, and that the little house and mossy
meadow is one of their places of abode.
The architect, however, is in reality a bird which,
though allied to the magnificent birds of paradise,
that also inhabit the great island of New Guinea,
is neither remarkable for color or size, being of a
plain uniform reddish brown, and about the size of
our common American robin.
As described by. its discoverer, the garden bird—
for so he called it—when it sets out to build one of its
remarkable structures first selects a woody plant with
a stem about the height and girth of the handle of
a lady’s parasol. This plant must be surrounded by
FEATHERED GARDENERS. 948
a flat piece of land on a level with the ground about
it. Around the trunk of the shrub which it has
selected the garden bird proceeds to break ground.
The first thing to be done is to carefully clean and
level the space chosen. As this would be too much
for one bird alone to undertake, it probably receives
aid from a number of its companions. An ordinary
bird’s nest is generally built from suitable material
easily found in its immediate vicinity, but that of
which the garden bird constructs his summer house
must be sought for far and wide. The style of edi-
fice erected on the carefully prepared foundation, al-
though in every case elaborate and beautiful almost
beyond belief, depends upon the particular species of
the genus that builds it. In Australia, where the birds
are called bower birds, the structure built is an arched
tunnel of twigs, skillfully and firmly built and inter-
laced, and decorated with all sorts of pretty shells and
feathers.
Speaking of these playhouses of the birds, a recent
writer justly says, “Perhaps the whole range of or-
nithology does not produce a more singular phenome-
non than the fact of a bird building a house merely as
a place of amusement, and decorating it as if to mark
its design and purpose.”
Without doubt, however, the garden bird of New
Guinea surpasses all other birds in constructive abil-
ity. Around the trunk of the selected shrub
in the center of the prepared space, which it uses
as a center pole, the little feathered workman pro-
ceeds to build up, from the prettiest mosses it can
944 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
find, a cone about as large across its hase as a dinner
plate. This is not done alone to beautify the cabin,
but to strengthen its central support, which is to sus-
tain the entire weight of the construction. It selects
for its rafters the long, straight, slender stems of a
kind of orchid (Dendrobium) that grows in large
dense tufts on the mossy boughs of trees, sending
out upright branches about twenty inches in length.
One reason the wise birds have tor selecting these
stems is that the plant to which they belong is an
upiphite, or air plant, and requires only air and mois-
ture to live and grow. The small and pretty leaves,
so closely packed together, will continue alive and
fresh after the stems upon which they have grown
are built into the walls of the cabin, that would other-
wise soon become unsightly and fall into decay.
All about the top of the center pole and slanting
outward from it, regularly laid with their upper ends
resting upon the central support and their lower ones
on the ground, are the long stems placed, all around,
except immediately in front, where an opening is
left for a doorway, so that when finished the cabin is
quite regular in form and conical in shape. Many
other stems are also used, and so compactly inter-
woven that the whole structure is strong, and imper-
vious to the rain. Around the central cone of moss
runs a horseshoe-shaped apartment or gallery. The
cabin is about twenty inches high, and twice that
in diameter.
“ But,” says their discoverer, “the esthetic tastes
of our gardeners are not restricted to the construc-
FEATHERED GARDENERS. 945
tion of a cabin.” Their fondness for flowers and gar-
dens is still more remarkable. Directly in front of
the door of their cabin is a level space occupying
at least as much ground as the structure itself. This
is a garden of fresh, green, growing moss, brought
here by the birds, and with the utmost care kept
smooth and clean, entirely free from dirt or litter of
any kind, all stones, sticks, etc., falling from the trees
above, or brought by the wind, being at once re-
moved. The verdant and velvety surface exhibited
by the miniature meadow does not, however, entirely
satisfy its owners. Something is yet wanting, and
they proceed to scatter over it the most brilliantly
colored flowers and fruits they can gather about the
forest—wings of butterflies, lightly painted shaces
of beetles, and showy fungus growths. The greatcr
number of these ornaments are deposited near tlie
entrance of the cabin. The variety of objects thus
exhibited is very great, and they are always of the
most brilliant colors. As soon as any have been so
long exposed as to lose their freshness they are taken
from the garden, thrown away, and replaced by new
ones. :
It remains to be said that these little cabins are
not used by the garden birds as nests. Their real
homes are in the tops of the tallest forest trees;
it is there they lay their eggs and rear their young.
These dainty little summer houses and flower gardens
are, if you please, their playhouses, where it is prob-
able they invite their lady and gentleman friends for
a frolic.
246 CURIOUS HOMES AND TUEIR TENANTS.
Were this account not vouched for by sober, un-
imaginative scientific men, it might well be doubted,
but a reference to recent ornithological reports will
not only give fuller details of the matter, but tell of
other more recently discovered varieties of the gar-
den bird, that build structures of a different kind that
are equally as surprising as those here described.
It is safe to say that nothing so strange and
beautiful, among homes built without hands, will ever
be found on this planet of ours as the summer houses
and pleasure grounds of the garden birds of New
Guinea. Nature has more than compensated for the
deprivation of superb plumage such as that given
the bird of paradise, by bestowing upon the garden
birds the ability to make little paradises to gratify
their inborn love of beauty, that seems inherent in the
whole family.
FUN-LOVING KAGUS,
AND THEIR QUEER ACTIONS.
There is in the Zodlogical Gardens in London a
bird whose aviary is constantly surrounded by groups
of children shouting with laughter and vigorously
applauding, as if they were witnessing the perform-
ance of some favorite play-actor, comedian, or panto-
mimist, instead of the antics of a rather common-
place-looking fowl, neither as remarkable for shape
or plumage as many another about him.
FUN-LOVING KAGUS, DAT
If, however, you were to join one of these groups
of spectators and watch his antics, I feel sure you
would acknowledge him to be as funny as any hu-
man being or monkey you ever saw.
He has such an old-fashioned, high-shouldered,
learned look when you first see him that you can not
help respecting him, much as if he were really and
truly the wise old professor he looks to be—a Ger-
man professor, perhaps, such as you have seen pic-
tures of—a professor in a gray dressing gown, with
his hands behind him, and his head and long red
nose thrust forward, nodding at every step as he stalks
solemnly about, rapt in silent meditation.
The dignity and seriousness of his gait and expres-
sion, indeed, are something that must be seen to be
appreciated ; as must also the suddenness with which
all this—his stately, formal, and decorous deport-
ment—disappears.
All at once his sleepy companions, dozing on their
perches or meditatively dressing their feathers and
pluming themselves, awake to the fact that they have
a feathered terror among them, and that the hitherto
unobtrusive kagu, whom they had found no particular
occasion to notice before, has apparently gone mad.
‘With wide-open beak and outspread wings, with a
sudden development of an ominous and most pre-
posterous crest where none was to be seen before,
and a harsh, rattling noise, he rushes at the frightened
inmates of the aviary; he drives them frantically
squalling, shrieking, and flapping in every direction ;
he chases and upsets them, and is not satisfied until,
248 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
master of the field, he alone remains on the ground,
and every one of his companions is clinging in mor-
tal terror to the topmost wires of the great cage.
His satisfaction at this achievement is evident;
his enjoyment is unbounded. He runs, prances, and
skips about in the most undignified fashion, and
finally, taking the tip end of a wing or tail feather in
the end of his beak, he indulges in a high-stepping,
light, fantastic waltz that is absurd and preposter-
ous beyond description. His performance generally
winds up with picking up a stray feather—there are
sure to be plenty lost in the hurly-burly he has been
causing—tossing it up in the air, chasing, catching
it and tossing it up in the air again, until he is tired
or has worked off his flow of spirits. Occasionally,
however, he varies this performance by sticking his
bill deep in the ground, standing on his head, flap-
ping his wings, and flourishing his long red legs wild-
ly in the faces of the spectators, who never fail to
greet the performance with shrieks of laughter.
Certainly such another amusing bird does not
exist, unless it is a sort of second cousin of the kagu,
the shadow bird, or Scopus umbrel/a, of Africa, that
plays in pretty much the same way.
As the homes of these two birds probably resem-
ble each other, at least as nearly as do their habits and
external appearance, an account of those of the shad-
ow bird, which are much better known, are given.
SILADOW BIRDS AND THE HOUSES THEY BUILD. 949
SHADOW BIRDS AND THE HOUSES THEY
BUILD.
WHERE AND HOW THEY BUILD THEM.
The ponds, marshes, rivers, and lakes in southern
Africa are sometimes haunted by strange, weird crea-
tures called shadow birds, that flit about in the dusk
of the evening preying upon frogs, small fish, and
water snakes.
At times two or three meeting at the same small
pool will silently and solemnly perform a singular
dance, skipping absurdly around each other, extend-
ing their necks and stiltlike legs, opening and clos-
ing their bills, and performing strange antics.
These birds, instead of nests, build themselves great
houses of clay and sticks, as much, we are told, as nine
feet long by four and a half wide, containing at
least a large cart load of sticks, and so strongly built
that a heavy, full-grown man can stand on the
rounded roof without crushing it. A small door just
large enough for the bird to squeeze through is placed
at the side most difficult to get at.
These strange dwelling places contain three dis-
tinct rooms, the walls of which, like those that form
the outside of the house, are carefully built of clay
and twigs nicely worked together, and between each
of the rooms is a door like that leading outside of
these apartments. The one in the rear is the largest,
18
950 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
and is raised so as to keep dry should heavy rains
flood other parts of the house, although the entrance
is so well made that this could not often happen.
The large back room is the bedroom, and actually
contains a large, soft bed of dried grasses and leaves.
as
EM A:
Weel,
We,
a
Shadow bird and the house he builds.
Here the eggs are hatched and the young reared by
the united care of both parents. The nestlings are
almost naked, very helpless, and grow very slowly, but
SHADOW BIRDS AND THE HOUSES THEY BUILD. 951
the papa and mamma birds never neglect them, and
seem to take pleasure in paying them every loving
attention.
The central room is used as a pantry, and contains
a goodly supply of provisions; while the small apart-
ment in front serves for a guard room, where the
owner, lying flat on the floor with his head thrust out
the door, watches sharply for coming danger.
Mr. Layard, in speaking of these birds, says :
“On my late friend Jackson’s farm at Nils Port
there is a singular rocky glen between two hills.
In this spot a beautiful spring, that is never dry, takes
its rise. Of course, there are a few wild almond and
other trees; indeed, the place is a little oasis amid
the barren mountains, and is a favorite resort for
hyenas, jackals, leopards, and other wild animals.
On the ledges of rocks in this secluded spot a fam-
ily of shadow birds have for years built their nests.
Some of these nests are so placed that it is impossible
to get at them, but others can be reached with a little
trouble. I counted six or eight within fifty yards, all
built in pretty much the same way. About some of
them that I visited I found bits of brass, bone but-
tons, broken crockery, bleached bones, and such
things. Mr. Jackson told me that if any of the ne-
groes lost a knife, or any small object belonging to
them, that could be easily carried away, on the farm
or within some miles of the place, the loser made
a point of looking for the missing property among
the nests, and was often successful in finding it.
there.”
952 CURIOUS IIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
The fact is that these birds, like the bower birds
of Australia which they so little resemble in size,
looks, or in many of their habits, love to embellish their
dwellings with any glittering or bright-colored thing
they can pick up.
The strange actions of these birds, and the won-
derful skill they show in building their curious
homes, serve to protect thei from the savage na-
tives, who indeed are much in awe of them, and dare
not hurt them or destroy their dwellings, thinking it
very unlucky to do so, for they say “these crea-
tures are not really birds, but spirits, that have the
power and will to punish severely any who injure
them.” It is a curious fact that the natives of Aus-
tralia have the same fear of injuring the bower bird
or its work, and for exactly the same reason.
SPIDERS AND COBWEBS.
FLYING WITHOUT WINGS.
Exposed to every attack, easily crushed, soft-bodied
as they all are, wingless, and in most cases possessing
no great speed in running, or the power—belonging to
grasshoppers and their kind—of swiftly springing out
of harm’s way, spiders, were it not for two gifts be-
stowed upon them by Nature, could neither defend
themselves nor capture the prey upon which they de-
pend for subsistence.
Both of these gifts are fluids, one a poison and
SPIDERS AND COBWEBS. 253
the other a sort of mucilage, which, being drawn out
of the spinnerets of the spider, hardens in contact with
the air and becomes the silken thread that serves the
spinner so many useful purposes.
The head of the spider is armed with a pair of
sharp pincers or curved fangs, called falces, from a
Latin word meaning a sickle. When not in use
these are folded back between the rows of teeth; but
when the jaws are opened to bite, the falces erect
themselves and are thrust into any object that comes
between them. Near the point of each of these fangs
is a little hole so small as to require a high mag-
nifying power to see it, and this, when the falces are
used, gives out a tiny drop of venom, that, minute as
it is, makes the wound it enters a fatal one to the
insect captured.
Spiders very seldom bite anything besides the in-
sects upon which they feed, but when attacked and
unable to escape they open their jaws and try to bite,
and if they are large specimens with strong jaws
they may succeed in doing so ; “ but, notwithstanding
the number of stings and pimples that are laid to
their charge, undoubted cases of their biting the hu-
man skin are extremely rare,” says Professor Pack-
ard, who has made them the study of a lifetime, “and
the stories of death, insanity, and lameness from
spider bites are probably all untrue.”
The spinning of webs for the capture of their prey
distinguishes spiders from all other living creatures.
Not only is the silk of which the web is composed
used for constructing nets for the capture of their
954 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
prey, but for lining nests, egg cocoons, bridges—the
first suspension bridge in the world was built by a
spider—and, most curious of all, for flying machines.
Yes, in this, at least; spiders are ahead of mankind;
they can fly without the aid of wings or of gas or
heated air.
Mr. Packard says: “Small spiders, especially in
fine days in autumn, get on the tops of bushes and
fences, each apparently anxious to climb as high as pos-
sible, and then raise themselves up on tiptoe and turn
their bodies up, with their heads toward the wind and
spinnerets open. A thread soon blows out from the
spinnerets, and, if the current of air continues, spins
out to a length of two or three yards, and then offers
enough resistance to the wind to carry the spider
away with it into the air. As soon as she is clear
the spider turns around and grasps the thread with
her feet, and seems to be very contented and comfort-
able.
“Sometimes they rise rapidly and are soon out of
sight, and at other times blow along just above the
ground.”
The silk spun by spiders is much superior to that
of silkwonns, stronger, firmer, and more elastic, and
many attempts have been made to use it ; but although
gloves and other articles of wearing apparel have been
made of spiders’ silk, the difficulty of keeping the
spiders together in sufficient numbers (each spider has
to be separated from the rest, for they fight and de-
vour each: other), and the immense labur involved in
keeping them supplied with flies or other insects for
SPIDERS AND COBWEBS. 255
956 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
food, have prevented any considerable success in this
direction.
When a garden spider is about to construct one of
the beautiful nests shown in the illustration, she gen-
erally selects a corner of a fence or an open window,
or one with a broken pane of glass, or an open
space through which flies after the manner of their
kind love to dart in and out. It is also necessary that
there should be a crevice or crack near at hand in
which, when occasion offers, to take refuge.
The spider begins by attaching a line and car-
rying it across and fastening it to the opposite side;
across the center of the space to be occupied by the
web to the middle of this line she attaches another,
the other end of which is fastened an inch or s0 dis-
tant from one end of the first line. She then returns
and repeats the same movements with a third line,
which in its turn is stretched from the common
center of the first and second lines to a point as far
away from the second thread as that is from the first.
And so she proceeds, stopping occasionally in the
center to draw her lines taut and fasten them more
securely by additional short cross-lines spun here and
there, until all the gray lines or rays of her net are
completed.
When this is done the spider has a framework
that unites strength to elasticity in a remarkable de-
gree, that yields to the slightest pressure and the
severest test in proportion to the size of the lines that
compose it, and in both cases immediately recovers its
position whole and uninjured.
SPIDERS AND COBWEBS. O57
Upon this framework, beginning at’ the center, the
spider spins a spiral line; the meshes of the net it
makes by crossing the radiating, foundation lines, be-
ing as far apart as she can reach. Having carried
this outward as far as she purposes to have her web
extend, the spider commences another between the
turns of that first constructed, and of an entirely dif-
ferent character, which she carries from the outside to
the center of the web.
The first threads spun are dry and smooth, but
this last is covered with a sticky fluid to which every-
thing that touches it adheres. Upon these last lines
she is careful not to step, but generally has a thread
extending from the outside, where she sometimes re-
mains, to the center of her web, always having one
foot on the line, which vibrates when anything strikes
the net and telegraphs to her the fact that prey is
captured.
‘When this oceurs the spider runs to the center of
the web, where all the rays meet, touches each in
turn to see where the insect is, and, having ascer-
tained this, hastens out and seizes it.
Such webs as the one described require constant
repairs; dust and rubbish collect and adhere to the
sticky threads, and in time portions of the net be-
come dirty, tangled, and useless. When the spider
ascertains this to be the fact she takes out the defect-
ive parts and replaces them with new ones, often
taking down a whole web and placing a freshly spun
net in its place.
The strangest part of this proceeding is, that as
958 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
she goes along gathering up the old web in front
and spinning a new one behind her, she rolls the old
one into a ball and sits and chews it a long time with
evident pleasure.
The spinnerets, which give out the sticky fluid
that becomes silken threads on exposure to the air,
consist of three pairs of little projections on the
hinder part of the body, each beset with a great num-
ber of what look like fine hairs or bristles, but which
are found under the microscope to be double-jointed
tubes ending in fine-drawn points, from each of which
escape extremely small drops of a liquid which, being
drawn out, dries into delicate silken lines a thousand
times as fine as a hair, which being united together
form a thread of from four to eight thousandths of
an inch in diameter. It is this that gives spiders’ silk
such strength ; for a cord is strong in proportion to
the number of filaments that compose it.
DEATH IN A ROSE.
THE SPIDER AND THE BUTTERFLY.
Spiders, we know, are in general dingy and dull of
hue, grayish black or blackish gray, or brown and
dull buff or yellow, with perhaps more or less ob-
secure markings, but there is a family of these crea-
tures that for a special purpose put on brighter col-
ors. If on looking into the heart of an oxeye daisy,
or in a sun flower, perhaps, or upon golden-rod, we
DEATH IN A ROSE. 259
find a spider of a bright yellow color, it is the Mésu-
meta, Viata, or flower spider.
It is commonly of a bright yellow, perhaps va-
ried with darker markings, but it seems either like
‘the chamelion, and much more than the chamelion, to
have the power of adapting its color to its surround-
ings, the petals of the flower it adopts for its nest;
or individuals of the same species are very differ-
ently colored, and seek flowers to correspond; for what-
ever blossom serves them for a home matches their
hue, be it purple, yellow, white, or pink.
Mrs. Mary Treat, in her little book, My Garden
Pets, gives an account of one of these spiders, who,
hiding in the heart of a rose, was so nearly the same
shade of color as the flower as to make it difficult
to distinguish her froin the petals of the flower.
‘When the rose faded she moved into another.
Mrs. Treat first saw the spider in July, and lived
in the same rose for three weeks, after which she
took up her abode in a bright red tea rose whose sta-
mens were more numerous and of a brighter yellow
than those of the flowers she had left, and attracted a
greater number of insect visitors. She at once went
to the center of the rose, but, as if observing the
stamens there were of a much deeper yellow than her
body, which contrasted with the bright red of the
surrounding petals near, now easily seen, she became
restless and soon returned to her first lodgings, the
color of whose furnishings better matched her com-
plexion.
She spins no web, but depends entirely upon her
260 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
ant
Kose spider capturing buttertly.
cunning and hodily strength to take her prey. While
waiting to make a capture she crouched in the center
of the flower and erected her long forelegs, so that it
was hard to tell them from the scattering stamens.
If a mail-clad and ferocious, warriorlike wasp
INSECT NOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 961
or a big, stalwart bumblebee called on her, down
dropped her stamenlike legs, still more closely clung
her yellow body to the yellow center of the flower,
and she pretended not to be at home, and not until
such objectionable visitors departed did she resume
her former attitude.
Now, however, a pretty lady butterfly, all uncon-
scious of harm, rests a moment on the flower. Misu-
meta does not stir. She knows her business too
well for that, until Miss Butterfly, on the lookout, per-
haps, for a sip of dew or a taste of honey, comes
within her reach, then out fly the lean arms of the
yellow hag ina fatal embrace about the body of the
unfortunate insect, which, though four or five times
her own weight, she prevents from rising into the air
until her poisoned fangs have done their work, and
the butterfly will visit no more flowers.
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS.
I.
To the proper study of Nature one has only to
look about in country lanes and fields and forests.
The galleries of the Creator are to be found every-
where except where those of man exist. And what
exquisite workmanship do they not exhibit! A de-
vout old man (Basil, an ante-Nicene father of the
Church) who lived in the third century has said :
“Tf you speak of the organism of an insect, what
962 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
you say will be in some sort a demonstration of His:
power whose hand formed it, for the skill of the
craftsman is exhibited more in the minuteness and
delicacy of his workmanship than in the size of what
he makes. He who stretched out the infinite firma-
ment, and hollowed the bed of the sea, pierced the tiny
sting of the bee for the ejection of its poison.”
The astronomer who looks up toward the unfath-
omable depths of space with the aid of his costly in-
struments sees no more of creation than is to be
found in a patch of living, velvety moss at the foot of
a forest tree. In such humble and obscure localities
exist little families, communities, and nations that
carry on the business of life in their own queer fash-
ion, which nevertheless affords many parallels to hu-
man life and man’s way of doing things. Like us,
these pygmy peoples have their governments, their
wars, their children, and their homes to look after;
they have servants, household pets, and police; they
are cattle-raisers, farmers, hunters, and fishers, and
practice all the handicrafts of men.
Take, for example, the paper-makers. While the
rest of mankind were writing imperishable thoughts
on all sorts of clumsy makeshifts, the pith of reeds,
cut spirally and flattened by pressure, leather, the leaves
of palm trees, wood, stone, clay, and what not, the Chi-
nese painted their tiresome treatises on paper; but
even they did not first imvent paper. Long before
they discovered how to make it the wasp was manu-
facturing a firm and durable article of this valuable
substance, “by very much the same process,” says
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 9263
Mr. James Rennie, “as that by which human hands
now manufacture it with the best aid of chemistry
and machinery.”
Not only do these insects make paper, but also
cardboard, and, anticipating the Japanese, build their
habitations of papier maché. One species of wasp in
South America, of whose curious nest an illustration
is given, manufactures a cardboard of so firm a tex-
ture and so smooth a surface that it can be written,
drawn, or painted upon like the best Bristol board ;
and in one respect at least it is superior to the man-
made article, for it is entirely waterproof. The heavi-
est showers fail to soften it or dampen the interior of
the nest it incases.
Il.
CARPENTERS.
The carpenters find many representatives, beside
the carpenter ants described in a previous chapter,
among the insect tribes. An English insect related to
our bumblebee, but differing in color, being of a dark
violet tint, well deserves her name of carpenter bee.
Selecting a suitable locality, a stump, post, or any bit
of timber—if a little softened by decay so much the
better—she proceeds to excavate her ten- or twelve-
storied house with more ease than a human workman
aided by every appliance with which modern science
can supply him can tunnel into the hillside.
First entering the timber in a horizontal direction,
she abruptly turns and extends the passage downward
964 CURIOUS TIOMES AND THEIR TENANTS,
SOLES
SEP
=
Carpenter bee and the cells she hollows out
in standing timber.
Chisels of the car-
penter bee, much
enlarged.
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 965
at a right angle to that by which she entered. Twelve
times her own length she hollows out her tunnel (as
if a man with his proportionally greater size and
strength should cut his way some sixty odd or seventy
odd feet into solid timber), and then she prepares to
put in floors and furnish the chambers into which her
tunnel is thus divided.
She has been very careful to preserve her “ chips” ;
no sawdust or shavings obstruct or litter her work,
which is clean cut and perfect. All the results of her
gnawings are gathered into a compact heap near by
and preserved for future use.
An observer says: “She proceeds thus: At the
bottom of her excavation she deposits an egg, and
over it fills a space nearly an inch high with pollen of
flowers made into a paste with honey. She covers
this over with a ceiling composed of cemented saw-
dust taken from what she has saved. This also serves
for a floor to the next chamber above it. She lays
this floor by cementing around the wall a ring of
wood chips, and within this ring forms another, and
so on until she has constructed a circular plate about
the thickness of a ten-cent piece. She proceeds in
the same manner until she has completed ten or
twelve cells, when she builds up the main entrance
with a barrier of similar materials.”
From the bottom cell a back entrance affords
egress to the firstborn and first adult bee, and Réau-
mur also noticed a door opening from the middle cell.
The young bees readily eat through the floors, but
can not penetrate the solid wood. The implements
19
966 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
with which the violet carpenter bee works are chisels
—here shown—hard and keen edged, and most prac-
tical tools, however seemingly inadequate for the
work they do.
But while the carpenter bees work with chisels,
there are many insects that use saws. These saws,
however, are much
better contrived, fin-
ished, and sharp-
ened, and more ef-
fective than any yet
made of steel. With
them the little crafts-
men undertake jobs
of work which, if
multiplied propor-
tionately to his size,
no human workman
would think of enter-
ing upon unaided. In the saw fly, which owns perhaps
the most perfect instruments of the kind, our invent-
ors might find a teacher whose suggestions would not
be valueless. The saw is in the head of the insect.
It is double, working alternately in the groove, the
two very cleverly strengthened by a thick plate of
horn at their back. The system of toothing is differ-
ent from any used by human beings, and the saw it-
self, instead of having the teeth in a straight line, is
curved into the shape of the f hole in a violin. Like
the wonderfully effective cutting edge of sharks’
teeth, the teeth of the insect’s saw are furnished with
Saws of the saw fly, much enlarged.
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 967
smaller teeth, and the sides of the saw itself as well
as its edge are supplied with teeth. It is, in fact, a
rasp and saw combined. It not only cuts a groove,
but it smooths the sawed surfaces and keeps the kerf
open.
Mr. Gosse, as quoted by the Rev. J. G. Wood,
points out that, beautiful and elaborate as these in-
struments are, they are but the sheaths of a still finer
and more delicate pair of saws. These secondary
saws have only a few teeth on the edge, and these
near the point; whereas the sides are furnished with
a number of razor-sharp blades, set on their edges,
slightly overlapping each other and directed back-
ward. In Nature’s Teachings there is a notice of
several large beetles, called sawyer beetles, which
actually answer the purpose of circular saws. Seiz-
ing a branch with their deeply toothed jaws, they fly
around and around it until it is sawed in two. They
have been known to saw off a branch larger than an
ordinary walking stick.
III.
VARNISHERS AND UPHOLSTERERS.
No observant lover of Nature can have failed to
notice how the buds of the horse-chestnut and other
trees are coated with a natural waterproof varnish, a
lacquer that not only protects them from injury but
adds materially to their appearance.
There are times, while this varnish is yet soft and
fresh, when the buds and twigs from which it exudes
968 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
may be seen swarming with bees, all busy in collect-
ing it for their own uses. Long before mankind had
arrived at what may be called the varnish period, when
the surfaces of furniture and utensils began to receive
coats of viscous material not for the purpose of col- .
oring but to make them look polished and brilliant,
the bees were expert varnishers.
Among hive-bees, wax is used with the utmost
economy, for its collection and elaboration are attended
with so much labor that only the hive-bee takes the
trouble to store it in any quantity, other species sup-
plying its place with inferior substitutes. The par-
titions of wax that separate the marvelous structure
of the honeycomb into cells—so arranged as to com-
bine the greatest amount of available storeroom with
the minimum of material—are so extremely thin that
the insect finds it necessary to strengthen their edges
with accumulations of this bee varnish, or propolis,
as itis called. The comb is fastened to its support,
and all crevices are filled with this material. The
propolis can be easily distinguished from the wax by
its darker color and natural luster.
Among the insect upholsterers we have the leaf-
cutting bees. It is said that a French gardener, find-
ing their extraordinary nests in his flower beds, could
not account for the presence of such skillfully con-
trived curios otherwise than that they were placed
there by some evilly disposed magician to work him
or his garden harm, and with this idea showed them
to his employer, who with some difficulty persuaded
him that they were the work of insects.
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 969
In a cylindrical hole excavated in a well-beaten
and hardened pathway several thimble-shaped cells
Leaf-cutting bees and nest.
are constructed, made of leaf cuttings very artificially
and skillfully worked and folded into shape, and in-
serted the bottom of one into the mouth of another.
When one cell is completed and stored with a rose-
970 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
colored conserve of the honey and pollen of the
thistle upon which is deposited a single egg, it is
covered with three layers of leaf cutting so exactly
cireular that, as observers notice, no compass could
define their margin more accurately.
IV.
MINERS AND GRAVE DIGGERS.
The miners and excavators are best represented
by the mole cricket. Like the mammal after which
it is named, this little creature digs extensive galleries.
The structure of its fore limbs and feet much resem-
bles that of the mole. The tibiee of these limbs are
broad, flat, and of a strong, horny substance, and are
armed with sharp, strong claws.
Nothing more unlike the ordinary forelegs of an
insect could well have been contrived. If the edges
of our spades were similarly armed their efficiency
would be undoubtedly increased. The whole struc-
ture of the insect is in all parts adapted to the work
it has to perform.
The breast is defended by a cuirass of strong horn,
backed by double layers of tough gristle, in front of
which are firmly jointed the shoulder blades, to pre-
vent the insect from being wounded by the power-
ful impact of earth and sand in digging.
Passing over, for want of space, many most inter-
esting branches of industry practiced by insects, we
close appropriately with the sextons, or grave-diggers,
whose craft is the last that can be used for the benefit
INSECT HOME-BUILDERS AND THEIR TOOLS. 971
of their fellows. The insects, however, do not con-
fine their offices to other insects, for if they find the
dead body of any small animal or bird, several unite
in their efforts, get beneath it and dig with great
energy, shoving aside with their hind legs the dirt
Mole cricket and her nest.
they excavate, without pausing, until the body gradu-
ally sinks below the level of the surrounding earth.
When it has sunken low enough to serve their
purposes, having first deposited their eggs in the
body, they throw over it the earth they have exca-
vated, carefully leveling and smoothing the ground
above the grave.
In conclusion, it may be said that the habits and
972. CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
life of American insects afford an immense and fruit-
ful field to the investigator. With no more expen-
sive appliances than a magnifying glass and a cheap
pocket microscope, but with eyes to see, patience to
investigate, and brains to be interested in and com-
prehend what is seen and investigated, any one who
has sufficient leisure and love for Nature may make
discoveries that will cause his name to be known
throughout the civilized world. Indeed, I doubt if
there exists a more promising field for scientific in-
vestigation than the open-air study of American in-
sects.
INDEX.
Aard-vark, 29.
Alactaga, 46.
Ameeba, 4.
Andrena bee, 63, 64.
A nest in a waterfall, 210.
Anhimia, 228.
Animal rolled into a ball, 206.
Animals that sleep through the
winter, 108.
Ant-eater, 27.
Ant-eater porcupine, 41.
Antennarius and nest, 186.
Ant-milking aphides, 52.
Ants, agricultural, 77, 79.
Ants at home, 74,
Australian cliff-dwellers, 94.
a duckbill, 39.
ue native houses, 15.
#e sea-horse, 3.
Bank burrowers, 36.
Bashful Billy, 113.
Baya bird, 121, 122.
Bees as miners, 62.
Bird burrower, puttin, 53.
Birds, tenement-house, 117.
Birds that make edible nests, 18.
Bumblebee and nest, 68. .
Butterfly house, 147.
Butterfly that mimics a leaf, 148.
Caddice flies, 193.
Carpenters, 262.
Carpenter ants, 82.
= bee and cells, 263,
Carysfort lighthouse, 10.
Cheirogale, 161.
Cheeropus, nest and young, 160.
City of birds, 236.
Cliff-dwellings, 88.
Cliff-dwellings, situation, 92.
Communal dwellings and those who
inhabit them, 1.
Coonbear, long-tuiled, 115.
Coral development, 13.
“field, 10.
“ living, 12.
“ polyps, 12.
“polyp open and closed, 12.
Cow blackbird, 188.
Cretaceous or Chalk period, 6.
Crossbill, 126.
Cteniza, 59.
Cuckoo bees, 63.
Death in a rose, 258.
Diamond birds and nests, 50, 51.
Dogs, prairie, 32.
Dogs that are not dogs, 32.
Dome beneath the waters, 189.
Dwellings in skeletons of whales,
232.
Eagles’ nests, 97.
Echidna, 42.
Esculent swallow, 18.
278
274 CURIOUS HOMES AND THEIR TENANTS.
Extinet animals hunted by man, 17.
Feathered gardeners, 243.
” parson, 184,
st seamstress, 133.
Fellow with pockets in his cheeks,
47.
Fisherman's dwelling, New Guinea,
104,
Fish, web-spinning, 183.
Floating nest, 181.
Flower-eater and nest, 131.
Four-footed lake-dwellers, 177.
Fun-loving kagus, 246.
Gopher and nest, 48.
Grasstish, 14.
Head-footed nest-builder, 200.
Hercules destroying fabled hydra,
206.
Hermit crab in mass of polyps, 222.
Hermit crab with sea anemone on |
its back, 221,
Hog, ground, 29.
Home in a horn, 234.
Home of American water thrush,
S11.
Ilome of the mole, 24.
Homes of Eskimo, 167.
Honey ants and their homes, 84.
Hornbill, 140.
House that wears a hat, 229, 231.
Human cave-dwellers, 15.
“ cliff-dwellers, 87.
“ ~nest-builders, 154, 155.
Hydra, 205,
Hydroids, 11.
Indians on coast of North Amer-
ica, 1.
Infusoria, 7.
Insect home-builders and their
tools, 260.
{sland-builders, 8.
Jerboas, 45.
Jerboas and jumping mice, 43.
Kangaroo’s nest, 157.
Kinkajou, long-tailed, 115.
Lake-dwellers, human, 173.
Lake-dwellers, four-footed, 177.
Lake-dwellings on Lake Mara-
cay bo, 174, 177.
Leat-cutting bees and nest, 268.
Lima, 197.
Little quadrupeds that lay eggs, 39.
Loris, 114.
Malmags, 105.
Miners and grave-diggers, 269.
Mole, 21; home of, 24; burrows of,
25; eyes and ears of, 26.
Mole cricket and her nest, 270.
Mouse, American jumping. 44.
Mouse, nest of field, 163.
Nest in a waterfall, 210.
Nest of pig’s feet, 160.
Octopus, 200.
Octopus at rest, 203.
Old penguin and nestling, 237.
Penguin running, 239.
Pholas, 198.
Planula, 13.
Porcupine ant-eaters, 41.
Portable houses, 215.
Portable house of hermit crabs, 219.
Potoroo, 158.
Potto, 110.
INDEX.
Prairie dogs, 33.
Pueblo Indians, 1.
« ornament, 89.
“ plan of building, 90.
Puitlin, 53, 54.
Puny races inhabiting America, 2.
Quarrelsome little nest- builders,
187.
Queer little kangaroo’s nest, 157.
Queer-looking ground hog, 29.
Rock-hopper penguin, 236.
Rose-ieaf bee, 65.
Salangene, 19.
Saw of the saw fly, 265.
Scoletus, 144, 145.
Sea fans, 11.
“ squirt, 8.
“ urchins imbedded in rock, 207.
Senses of ants, 68.
Shadow birds and the house they
build, 250.
Shells that build nests, 196, 197.
Snow house of Eskimo, 168.
sal « ~ of polar bear, 169.
of seal, 168.
Spider, turret-building, 56, 57.
Spiders and cobwebs, 252.
Spiders and nest, 255.
Sponges, 11.
“ ry
Stealing a home, 138.
Stickleback, 188.
Stickleback and nest, 188,
Strange animal, 105.
Swallow breeding places and nests
of esculent swallows in northern
Borneo, 19.
Tailor bird and nest, 133.
Tarsius spectrum, 107.
Tenement house built by birds,
11%.
Thrush, water, 211.
Tree houses, 101, 102.
Tube dwellings, 193.
Tube dwellings of serpule, 194.
Turret-building spider, 56, 57.
Turcoman’s portable dwellings, 216.
Varnishers and upholsterers, 266.
Walking-stick insects, 146.
Walled up, 140.
Waru house, 228, 225.
Wasps as miners, 62.
Wasps’ nest in a spool, 67.
Wasps’ nests, 149.
Wasps’ nests, South American, 151.
Web-spinning fish, 185.
Wood-eater, 144.
Work versus play, 71.
World-builders, 4.
THE END.
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