the burrowing owls tame and fearless of man.
They were so reduced as scarcely to be able to fly,
and hung about the houses all day long on the look-out
for some stray morsel of food. I have frequently
seen one alight and advance within two or three yards
of the door-step, probably attracted by the smell of
roasted meat. The weather continued dry until
late in spring, so reducing the sheep and cattle that
incredible numbers perished during a month of cold
and rainy weather that followed the drought.
How clearly we can see in all this that the tendency
to multiply rapidly, so advantageous in normal seasons,
becomes almost fatal to a species in seasons of exceptional
abundance. Cover and food without limit enabled
the mice to increase at such an amazing rate that the
lesser checks interposed by predatory species were
for a while inappreciable. But as the mice increased,
so did their enemies. Insectivorous and other
species acquired the habits of owls and weasels, preying
exclusively on them; while to this innumerable army
of residents was shortly added multitudes of wandering
birds coming from distant regions. No sooner
had the herbage perished, depriving the little victims
of cover and food, than the effects of the war became
apparent. In autumn the earth so teemed with
them that one could scarcely walk anywhere without
treading on mice; while out of every hollow weed-stalk
lying on the ground dozens could be shaken; but so
rapidly had they devoured, by the trained army of
persecutors, that in spring it was hard to find a
survivor, even in the barns and houses. The fact
that species tend to increase in a geometrical ratio
makes these great and sudden changes frequent in many
regions of the earth; but it is not often they present
themselves so vividly as in the foregoing instance,
for here, scene after scene in one of Nature’s
silent passionless tragedies opens before us, countless
myriads of highly organized beings rising into existence
only to perish almost immediately, scarcely a hard-pressed
remnant remaining after the great reaction to continue
the species.
CHAPTER IV.
SOME CURIOUS ANIMAL WEAPONS.
Strictly speaking, the only weapons of vertebrates
are teeth, claws, horns, and spurs. Horns belong
only to the ruminants, and the spur is a rare weapon.
There are also many animals in which teeth and claws
are not suited to inflict injury, or in which the
proper instincts and courage to use and develop them
are wanted; and these would seem, to be in a very
defenceless condition. Defenceless they are in
one sense, but as a fact they are no worse off than
the well-armed species, having either a protective
colouring or a greater swiftness or cunning to assist
them in escaping from their enemies. And there
are also many of these practically toothless and clawless
species which have yet been provided with other organs
and means of offence and defence out of Nature’s
curious armoury, and concerning a few of these species
I propose to speak in this place.
Copyrights
The Naturalist in La Plata from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.