Birds and Nature, Vol 10 No. 2 [September 1901]

THE STAR FISH

One of the most common objects found along our New England sea coast is the star fish, called by the seamen “Five-fingered Jack.” The fact of its being common does not at all imply that its habits are commonly known. The great difficulty of watching it in its native haunts has been a drawback to getting better acquainted with it, but when taken to an aquarium it has been found to be an exceedingly interesting little star. At low tide you may find hundreds of them clinging to the rocks, sea moss or on the sandy bottom, but they prefer deep water. Their color varies from a dark rich brown to a reddish, and often a chocolate shade, sometimes lighter; but no matter the shade, they are always attractive.

The upper side is slightly convex, rough and tuberculous; the under side is soft and contains all the vital and locomotory organs. Immediately upon being taken from the water the soft under parts seem to shrink away and nothing substantial remains but the upper surface. This is perforated with pores, through which the water enters to all parts of the body by channels. Very near the center is a small opening through which the water is admitted to a strong, rather elastic, tube, which is encircled by a series of rings. Now turn the star fish over and you can see that this tube opens into a ring about the mouth, while similar tubes stretch out to the arms. From these cross tubes little fibers extend, terminating in discs. These are the true organs of locomotion, and are called ambulacra. They move very slowly and are not at all clumsy, but have even been called graceful by some naturalists.

A portion of these ambulacra are made fast by suction while the rest of the body is drawn forward; then the first are relaxed and the process repeated, thus they travel in the deep waters.

It is quite evident that the five bright red eyes at the tip of each ray are of some use in helping them on their journeys; but just how much they can see is not quite known. When a large object appears before them they prepare to surmount it, often going up very steep sides and down again as easily as though on a level stretch, often standing on the tip of one ray and sometimes on the five, thus resembling a five-legged stool.

The heart, situated near the opening on the back, is supplied with a set of blood vessels. They also have respiratory organs and a nervous system, but, judging from the manner they endure vivisection, their nervous system must be of a very low order, for if they are broken in pieces the missing parts will soon grow again – in fact, they do not seem to be disturbed in the least no more than if it were a cast-off garment, and evidently go about as happy with the remaining rays as with the complete body, and, what is still more strange, the broken ray will grow a complete set of arms and a new body. This is one way of reproduction, so if you wish to kill a star fish don’t break it in pieces. The only sure way of making an end to their lives is to drop them in fresh water, when they immediately die.

It is very interesting to watch them care for their eggs. These are kept in pouches at the base of the rays, and when emitted through an opening there provided, are actually brooded as a hen her chicks, by arching the central part of the body and bending the rays down, and if the eggs are scattered they take great pains to collect them again, often traveling long distances for them.

The star fish consumes a large amount of food; you would hardly think one stomach could care for so much, but each ray has an additional stomach, and all need food. Their favorite food is the whelk, a small black-shelled, snail-like mollusk. Indeed, they eat many varieties of the mollusk.

They are also very fond of oysters. You would be interested to watch the star fish as he slowly works his way along until directly over the oyster, then folds his five arms around it, holding it firmly in place, then pushing out his stomach, through his mouth, he wraps it around the unfortunate oyster, and by the power of suction the oyster is drawn from the shell and digested and the shell cast away. You can easily see what a nuisance they must be in an oyster bed.

They are known as the opossum of the sea, as they often appear to be quite dead when they are very much alive. If you wish to be sure, put him on his back, and if alive you will soon see a number of semitransparent globular objects beginning to move, reaching this way and that. These are the ambulacra seeking to regain their normal position. If you see no motion, you may safely conclude that he is an extinguished star.

Rest H. Metcalf.

IN THE MEADOW

 
A butterfly with spangles gay,
Met a bumble bee, one day,
Where the sunshine warmly lay
Turning clover into hay.
 
 
“Hark!” said lovely Shining Wings,
“Hear how loud that blackbird sings!
Don’t you think the summer brings
Just the brightest, sweetest things?
 
 
“See the color of the sky;
See the clouds that sail so high;
See the milkweed floating by” —
Said the dainty butterfly.
 
 
“Smell the clover blossoms there,
Scenting all the summer air;
Nothing half so sweet or fair,
As this meadow, anywhere!”
 
 
Bumble jerked his little head,
Then he rather crossly said:
“Well, I like the clover red,
Not for perfume, but for bread!
 
 
“All the world knows that a bee
Much too busy is to see
Beauty merely. All that he
Cares for is utility.”
 
 
Shining Wings then made reply:
“Though I’m but a butterfly,
Beauty’s faithful lover I,
And without it fain to die.
 
 
“Life itself is naught, poor bee,
If it’s but utility;
Sure am I ’twas meant that we
Should the beauty, also, see;
 
 
“Else there were no summer sky,
Nor the clouds to sail on high;
Else no milkweed floating by,
Nor spangles for the butterfly!”
 
 
Angry Bumble flew away,
Leaving Shining Wings to stay
Where the sunshine warmly lay,
Turning clover into hay.
 

Sarah E. Sprague.

THE INDIAN ELEPHANT
(Elephas indicus.)

The Indian Elephant (Elephas indicus) inhabits the wooded parts of Southern Asia from the Himalayas to the Indian Ocean, and is found throughout Burmah, Siam and the Malay Peninsula. It differs from the African Elephant in having much smaller ears, a concave instead of convex forehead, smaller tusks, and in the possession of a finger on the end of the proboscis which, working against a tubercle on the lower part of the trunk, serves many of the purposes of the human hand.

The proboscis, which is an extension and enlargement of the nose and upper lip, is composed of as many as forty thousand interlacing muscles, and is capable of the most delicate and varied manipulation. At times it is used to strip twigs and leaves from overhanging trees, or again to uproot bamboo shoots or to pluck grass and plants from the ground, carrying all to the ever-grinding jaws behind. By sucking it full of water the Elephant may give himself a shower bath or squirt water into his mouth or even over people who offend him.

The presence of the trunk and tusks has greatly modified the cranium of the Elephant. Although a very intelligent animal, his brain is relatively small in proportion to his immense size. The great, rounded humps which crown an Elephant’s head are composed of bony air cells, and their function is to provide surface for the supporting muscles of the trunk. So thick are these bony processes that they will stop a rifle ball; and on the other hand Elephants have been shot through the skull without the least injury to the brain.

The tusks, which are often lacking in Asiatic Elephants, especially in the females, are the incisors of the upper jaw, grown straight out, and serve primarily as weapons, although in domesticated animals they are used to dig and lift and to carry heavy burdens. Besides these teeth the Elephant has four large molars, two in each jaw, and he is able to chew from four to eight hundred pounds of green fodder a day with them. In a wild state the Elephants wander about in bands through the forests, following their leader from feeding grounds to water, and concern themselves largely with eating and drinking and escaping from their enemies. The young weigh about two hundred pounds at birth, and attain to over eight thousand pounds at thirty years, when they have reached maturity. At sixty an Elephant is counted in his prime, and many live to be a hundred or even a hundred and fifty years old. Eleven feet is the extreme height of the Asiatic Elephant. His specific gravity is so great that in swimming rivers his whole body disappears below the surface; but this gives him no trouble, as he breathes by thrusting the tip of his trunk above the water and can surge up enough to get one eye out when he wishes to see where he is going.

The eyes are small and, probably on account of living in the forest so much, they are not very sharp-sighted. This defect is counterbalanced by very acute hearing and sense of smell. In browsing the Elephant is probably guided altogether by touch and his sense of smell; and in a dark forest even very sharp eyes are of little value either in selecting food or detecting enemies, especially in an animal with so short and heavy a neck.

The feet of an Elephant are great elastic cushions with which he passes noiselessly through the jungles. When he chooses to stand still it is almost impossible to distinguish his brown skin from the foliage with which he is surrounded. But an animal as large and strong as the Elephant does not need to conceal himself, except from man, his great enemy, and when a troop of Elephants wish to pass from one place to another they often charge through the jungles and forest, smashing down trees and vines and leaving a broad trail behind them. When disturbed or wounded by hunters they rush furiously through the thickets after their tormentors, and if they fail to catch and crush them in the first charge it has often happened that Elephants have returned and smelled them out as a dog scents a rabbit.

On account of the slow growth of young Elephants it has been found more satisfactory in India to catch wild Elephants than to breed them in captivity and wait fifteen years for the young to reach maturity and usefulness. The plan usually pursued is to build a huge corral in a tract of forest where wild Elephants roam, usually across an Elephant path. Where the path enters the corral a heavy gate is made and suspended over the way, so that it can be instantly dropped and fastened. Then, when a herd of wild Elephants wanders near enough to the trap on the gate side an army of native beaters is hastily gathered and the troop is surrounded on three sides. Each beater is provided with a tom-tom or torch, and in the confusion of shouting and torch-waving the whole herd is driven into the enclosure. At first they charge the stockade wildly, and the natives rush from side to side, resisting their attacks with fire and uproar. When at last they stand huddled together in the middle of the enclosure tame Elephants are driven in and allowed to mix freely with the wild ones. Cautiously they single out an Elephant, surround him and hold him in place, while men called noosers slip quietly down from the backs of the tame Elephants and fasten strong, soft ropes about his feet, after which he is marched out of the corral between two Elephants and tamed to work as they work, carrying heavy loads, dragging and piling timber, or perhaps marching in the splendid processions of Eastern kings.

Dane Coolidge.

THE WILD CLEMATIS

 
Brave Clematis, through sunny days and long,
I watched thee toil to reach a leafy height,
Proud of thy kirtle green, and bloom-hood white;
And now when winds are riotous and strong,
Thou flauntest silken plumes sere leaves among,
To lead my glances from the Frost-King’s blight
And as of old my longing eyes delight,
Thou, fairest climber of the rustic throng;
And I take courage by thy bravery,
My much-plumed friend of tangled copse and vale,
That fain would hide the mars of autumn’s hour,
Henceforth I strive that others only see
My higher self as outward graces fail,
And see that self through love’s ennobling power.
 

Jenny Terrill Ruprecht.

TOPSY

Ethel Tyler has a tame crow for a pet. It is so black and such a mischievous creature that Ethel named her Topsy.

Topsy was quite small when given to Ethel, and she has learned to say a number of words.

There is a large orchard back of the house, and Topsy seems to think this her special playground. Here she can play about and “caw” to her heart’s content.

She loves to hide among the branches of a tree, then call, “Ethel, Ethel,” expecting Ethel to come and hunt for her.

Topsy is very amusing, for there is no end to her tricks and pranks, but she can also be very troublesome if she is so disposed.

Her greatest fault is that of stealing. Small articles, as keys, thimbles, spools of thread and such things have to be kept where she cannot get at them or they will be missing.

Her eyes are quick and she is so sly that she generally gets away with the things without being caught.

When articles are missed, we know whom to blame, but it is quite another thing to find them, for she seldom uses a hiding place after it has once been discovered and her plunder removed.

There is one member of the Tyler family that has not a high opinion of Topsy, and that is Tony, Ethel’s cat.

Topsy does her part towards making the poor cat’s life miserable, and I guess Tony thinks she is quite successful.

She tips over his saucer of milk, pecks at his tail, swoops down upon him when he is eating, seizes his meat and flies to a place of safety before Tony realizes that he has been robbed. Topsy then proceeds to eat her booty, chattering to herself as though she had done a brave deed.

Tony stands in fear of Topsy, and she knows it, and is not slow in taking advantage of the knowledge whenever an opportunity presents itself.

When Topsy calls, “Tony, Tony,” the cat lengthens the distance between himself and the artful crow, for he knows by experience that she only wants the tuft of fur at the tip of his tail or a piece of the rim of his ear.

There is no trouble about feeding Topsy. As long as she has plenty to eat it does not matter what the food might be and she never stops to inquire whether it is fresh or not.

She is very fond of fish, and it is amusing to watch her when a fish cart comes along.

Mrs. Tyler patronizes a certain man that sells fish, and he stops in front of the house and blows his horn so that she will know he is there. Topsy has learned to associate the blast from the horn with “fish,” and the minute she hears a horn blown she starts for the street.

She always receives a piece of fish if it is Mrs. Tyler’s fish monger that is passing, but it often happens that it is a stranger going by and then Topsy follows the cart down the street to see if he will not throw her a piece of fish. If he does not, she comes back chattering angrily at being cheated out of so enjoyable a meal.

Ethel will call, “Topsy, Topsy,” and the crow will come hopping to her. “Shake hands,” and Topsy will raise one of her black feet and put it in Ethel’s hand for her to shake.

When Topsy wishes to go into the house she stands on the door step and calls, “Mamma, Papa or Ethel” until some one comes and lets her in.

She has many opportunities to leave the place and shift for herself, but she never goes far from the house and seems to prefer making her home with the Tyler family.

Martha R. Fitch.