CHAPTER EIGHT.
ABOUT ALLIGATORS.
The boys now returned to their tent, impressed with curious feelings bythe scene they had just witnessed. They lay down upon the grass, andentered into a conversation, of which bears and alligators formed thesubjects. The latter, however, with their singular and revoltinghabits, came in for the greater share of their talk. Many odd storiesin relation to them were known to all, even to the little Francois; andBasil being an old hunter among the swamps and bayous, was acquaintedwith many of the habits of these animals. But Basil was not much of anobserver; and he had only noticed such peculiarities as, from time totime, were forced upon his attention by the incidents of the chase.Lucien, however, had more closely observed their habits, and had alsostudied them from books. He was, therefore, well acquainted with allthat is known to the naturalist concerning these animals; and at therequest of his brothers he consented to while away the twilight hours,by imparting to them such information about them as he himselfpossessed.
"The alligator," began he, "belongs to the order _Sauria_, or lizards.This order is again divided into several families, one of which istermed _Crocodilida_, or crocodiles; and the family of crocodiles issubdivided into three genera, each of which has several species."
"How many species in all?" demanded Basil.
"There are not more than a dozen varieties of the whole crocodilefamily--at least, there are not more known to naturalists."
"Then I was thinking why there should be all this division andsubdivision into orders, families, genera, and species, for a dozenvarieties of the same animal, and these all so like each other in shapeand habits--are they not so?"
"They are," answered Lucien, "very similar in their characteristics."
"Then, why so much classing of them? It appears to me to be quiteuseless."
"The object of this classing is to make the study of their naturalhistory more easy and simple. But you are right, brother, in thepresent case; it appears quite useless, and only renders the thing morecomplex, and obscure. Where there are many varieties or species of afamily or order of animals, and where these species differ widely fromeach other in appearance and habits, then such minute classificationsbecome necessary to assist one's memory; but I say again, brother, youare quite right as to the present case. There is no need for thenumerous divisions and subdivisions which have been made of thecrocodile family."
"Who made them, then?" asked Francois.
"Who!" exclaimed Lucien, with some warmth; "who but _closet_-naturalists, old mummy-hunters of museums! Bah! it makes one angry."
As Lucien said this, his usually mild countenance exhibited anexpression of mingled indignation and contempt.
"What is there in it to make one angry?" inquired Basil, looking up athis brother with some astonishment.
"Why, to think," answered Lucien, "that these same closet-naturalistsshould have built themselves up great names by sitting in their easychairs measuring, and adding up, and classing into dry catalogues,objects which they knew very little about; and that little they obtainedfrom the observations of others--true naturalists--men like the greatWilson--men who toiled, and travelled, and exposed themselves tocountless dangers and fatigues for the purpose of collecting andobserving; and then for these men to have the fruits of their laboursfilched from them, and descanted upon in dry arithmetical terms by thesesame catalogue-makers.--Bah!"
"Stay, brother; Wilson was not robbed of the fruits of his labours! Hebecame famous."
"Yes, and he died from the struggles and hardships that made him so. Itreminds me of the fabled song of the swan, brother. He told hisbeautiful tale, and died. Ah! Poor Wilson, he was a _true_naturalist."
"His name will live for ever."
"Ay, that it will, when many of the _philosophic_ naturalists, now somuch talked of, shall be forgotten, or only remembered to have theirquaint theories laughed at, and their fabulous descriptions turned intoridicule. Fortunately for Wilson, he was too poor and too humble toattract their patronage until his book was published. Fortunately forhim he knew no great Linneus or Count Buffon, else the vast stores whichhe had been at so much pains to collect would have been given to theworld under another name. Look at Bartram."
"Bartram!" exclaimed Francois; "why, I never heard the name, Luce."
"Nor I," added Basil.
"There it is, you see. Few know his name; and yet this same JohnBartram, a farmer of Pennsylvania, who lived an hundred years ago, didmore to spread, not only a knowledge of American plants, but the plantsthemselves, than any one who has lived since. Most of the great gardensof England--Kew among the rest--are indebted to this indefatigablebotanist for their American flora; and there were few of the naturalistsof that time--Linneus not excepted--that were not largely indebted tohim for their facts and their fame. They took his plants andspecimens--collected by arduous, toilsome, and perilous journeyings--they put names to them--noble and kingly names--for king-sycophants mostof them were, these same naturalists--they _described_ them as _they_call it--such descriptions, indeed! and then adopted them as their owndiscoveries. And what did they give John Bartram in return for all histrouble? Why, the English king gave him 50 pounds to enable him totravel over thousands of miles of wilderness in search of rare plants,many of which on reaching England were worth hundreds of pounds each!This was all the poor botanist had for enriching the gardens of Kew, andsending over the first magnolias and tulip-trees that ever blossomed inEngland! What did the scientific naturalists do for him? They stolehis histories and descriptions, and published them under their ownnames. Now, brothers, what think you of it? Is it not enough to spoilone's temper when one reflects upon such injustice?"
Both Basil and Francois signified their assent.
"It is to such men as Hearne, and Bartram, and Wilson, that we areindebted for all we know of natural history--at least, all that is worthknowing. What to us is the dry knowledge of scientific classifications?For my part, I believe that the authors of them have obscured ratherthan simplified the knowledge of natural history. Take an example.There is one before our eyes. You see those long streamers hanging downfrom the live oaks?"
"Yes, yes," replied Francois; "the Spanish moss."
"Yes, Spanish moss, as we call it here, or _old-man's-beard_ moss, asthey name it in other parts. It is no moss, however, but a regularflowering plant, although a strange one. Now, according to thesephilosophic naturalists, that long, stringy, silvery creeper, that looksvery like an old man's beard, is of the same family of plants as thepineapple!"
"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Francois; "Spanish moss the same as a pineappleplant! Why, they are no more like than my hat is to the steeple of achurch."
"They are unlike," continued Lucien, "in every respect--in appearance,in properties, and uses; and yet, were you to consult the dry books ofthe closet-naturalists, you would learn that this Spanish moss(_Tillandsia_) was of a certain family of plants, and a few particularsof that sort, and that is all you would learn about it. Now what is thevalue of such a knowledge? What is it to compare with a knowledge ofthe appearance, the structure, and character of the plant--of itsproperties and the ends for which nature designed it--of its uses to thebirds and beasts around--of its uses to man--how it makes his mattressto sleep on, stuffs his sofas, and saddles, and chairs equal to the besthorse-hair, and would even feed his horse in case of a pinch? In myopinion, these are the facts worth knowing; and who are the men whopublish such facts to the world? Not your closet-naturalists, I fancy."
"True, very true, brother; but let us not vex ourselves about suchthings; go on, and tell us what you know of the crocodiles."
"Well, then," said Lucien, returning to his natural tone and manner, "asI have already said, the crocodiles are divided into threegenera--_crocodiles_, _gavials_, and _alligators_. It is Baron Cuvierwho has made this distinction; and he rests it more upon the shape ofthe head and the set of the teeth, than upon any real difference in theappearance or habits of these
animals. The crocodiles have long,pointed, narrow snouts, and a large tooth in each side of the lower jaw,which, when the mouth shuts, passes into a groove in the upper. `Theseare the _true_ crocodiles,' says Monsieur Cuvier. The gavials have alsolong, pointed, narrow, roundish snouts, but their teeth are nearlyequal-sized and even. The alligators, on the contrary, have broadpike-shaped noses, with teeth very unequal, and one large one on eachside of the lower jaw, that, when the mouth shuts, passes--not into agroove as with the crocodile--but, into a hole or socket in the upperjaw. These are Monsieur Cuvier's distinctions; which he takes a worldof pains to point out and prove. He might, in my opinion, have sparedhimself the trouble, as there are so few varieties of the animal inexistence, that they might have been treated of with greater simplicityas so many species of the genus `crocodile.'
"Of the true crocodiles there are five species known. Four of these arefound in the rivers of Africa, while the fifth is an inhabitant of theWest Indies and South America. The gavial is found in Asia--particularly in the Ganges and other Indian rivers, and is the crocodileof those parts. The alligator belongs to America, where it isdistributed extensively both in North and South America. In the Spanishparts it is called `caiman,' and there are two species well-known, vizthe spectacled caiman of Guiana, and the alligator of the Mississippi.No doubt, when the great rivers of South America have been properlyexplored, it will come to light, that there are other varieties thanthese. I have heard of a species that inhabits the Lake Valencia inVenezuela, and which differs from both the American species mentioned.It is smaller than either, and is much sought after by the Indians forits flesh, which these people eat, and of which they are particularlyfond. It is probable, too, that new species of crocodiles may yet befound in Africa and the islands of the Indian Ocean.
"Now I think it is a well-ascertained fact, that all these varieties ofthe crocodile family have pretty much the same habits,--differing onlywhere such difference might be expected by reason of climate, food, orother circumstances. What I shall tell you of the alligator, then, willapply in a general way to all his scaly cousins. You know his colour,--dusky-brown above, and dirty yellowish-white underneath. You know thathe is covered all over with scales, and you see that on his back thesescales rise into protuberances like little pyramids, and that a row ofthem along the upper edge of his tail give it a notched, saw-likeappearance. You notice that the tail is flattened vertically, and notlike the tail of the beaver, which is compressed horizontally. Youobserve that the legs are short and very muscular--that there are fivetoes on the fore-feet, slightly webbed or palmated, and four on thehind-feet much longer and much more webbed. You notice that his head issomewhat like that of a pike, that the nostrils are near the end of thesnout, the eyes prominent, and the opening of the ears just behind them.His eyes have dark pupils, with a lemon-coloured iris; and the pupilsare not round, as in the eye of a man, but of an oval shape, somethinglike those of a goat.
"All these things you may observe by looking at an alligator. But thereare some things about the structure of the animal which are peculiar,and which may not strike you so readily. You observe that his jaws openfar back--even beyond the ears--where they are hinged or articulatedinto each other. Now this is a peculiar formation, and the effect is,that when the alligator opens his mouth, his neck becomes somewhat bentupwards, giving him the appearance of having moved the upper instead ofthe under jaw."
"Why I have often heard that that was so," remarked Francois.
"Many have thought so, and said so, since the time of Herodotus, whofirst propagated this absurd idea. It is not the fact, however. It isthe lower jaw that moves, as in other vertebrated animals; but theappearance I have described leads to the mistake that has been made bycareless observers. There is another point worth speaking of. Theopening of the alligator's ear is guarded by a pair of lips, which hecloses the moment he goes under water. His nostrils, too, are protectedby valves, which he can also close at will. There is also a peculiarityabout his vertebrae. These are so jointed to each other, that he cannotturn without describing a circle with his body. He can move his headbut slightly to one side or the other; and this is a fortunatecircumstance, if not for him, at least for his enemies. Were he able toturn short round, or twist himself about, as serpents do, he would be amost dangerous creature to encounter. As it is, the great length of hisbody, combined with the shortness of his legs and the impossibility ofhis getting round quickly, renders him an easy antagonist on land,provided you keep out of reach of his great jaws, and beyond the sweepof his powerful tail. This last is his true weapon of offence ordefence; and as _it_ is not restrained by any vertebrae, he can use itwith such effect as to knock the breath out of a man with one singleflap. Many of the habits of the alligator are known to you. How thefemale lays eggs as big as those of a goose, and buries them in thesand, where they are hatched by the heat of the sun. Sometimes shecannot find a sandbank to suit her purpose. She then raises a circularplatform of mud mixed with grass and sticks. Upon this she deposits alayer of eggs, and covers them over with several inches of mud andgrass. She then lays a fresh tier of eggs, covering these also withmud, and so on until she has laid her whole hatching, which oftenamounts to nearly two hundred eggs, of a dirty greenish-white colour.In the end she covers all up with mud, plastering it with her tail untilit assumes the appearance of a mud oven or beaver-house. All thesepains she takes to protect her eggs from raccoons and turtles, as wellas vultures and other birds, that are very fond of them. She hauntsnear the spot while the eggs are hatching, so as to keep off theseenemies. When the young are out, her first care is to get them to thewater out of the way of such dangers. This seems to be their firstinstinct, too; for no sooner are they free from the shell than they areseen scuttling off in that direction, or following their mother, many ofthem having climbed upon her back and shoulders."
"But, brother," interrupted Francois, "is it true that the old males eattheir own young?"
"Horrible though it be, it is perfectly true, Francois. I myself haveseen it."
"And I," said Basil, "several times."
"The first care of the mother is to get them to the water, where she canbetter conceal them from their unnatural parent; but, notwithstandingall her precautions, many of them fall victims, both to the oldalligators, and the larger tortoises, and birds. As soon as the youngones have learned a little sense, if I may so speak, they elude theirmonster fathers and uncles, as they are nimbler in their movements, andcan keep out of reach of their great jaws and tails. I have often seenthe small alligators riding upon the backs of the larger ones, knowingthat the latter could not reach them in that situation."
"They appear to eat anything that comes in their way," remarkedFrancois.
"They are not very particular as to that. Fish is their favourite food,I believe, but they will eat any land animal they can kill; and it isbelieved they prefer it in a state of putrefaction. That is a doubtfulpoint. They have been known to kill large animals in the water, andleave them at the bottom for several days; but this may have happenedbecause they were not hungry at the time, and were merely keeping themuntil they should get an appetite. The process of digestion with them,as with all reptiles, is very slow; hence they do not require suchquantities of food as the warm-blooded animals--mammals and birds. Forinstance, they bury themselves in the mud, and lie asleep during thewhole winter without any food."
"You say fish is their favourite food, Luce," said Basil; "now I thinkthey are fonder of dogs than anything else. I have often known them tocome where they had heard the yelping of a dog as if for the purpose ofdevouring it. I have seen one seize a large dog that was swimmingacross the Bayou Boeuf, and drag him under, as quick as a trout wouldhave taken a fly. The dog was never seen again."
"It is very true," replied Lucien, "that they will eat dogs, as theywill any other animals; but their being particularly fond of them is apoint about which naturalists differ. It is true they will approach thespot where t
hey hear the yelping of a dog; but some say that this isbecause it so much resembles the whining of their own young, and that itis these they are in search of."
"But I have seen both the males and females make towards the dog."
"Just so. The males went to devour the young, as they thought, and thefemales followed to protect them. Great battles are often foughtbetween the males and females on this account."
"But how is it, Luce," inquired Francois, "how is it they can catch fishthat appear so much swifter than themselves?"
"Very few kinds of fish are swifter. The alligator, by means of hiswebbed feet, and particularly his flat tail--which acts on the principleof a stern-oar to a boat, and a rudder as well--can pass through thewater as swiftly as most of the finny tribe. It is not by hunting itdown, however, but by stratagem, that the alligator secures a fish forhis maw."
"By what stratagem?"
"You have often noticed them floating on the surface of the water, bentinto a sort of semicircular shape, and without moving either body orlimb?"
"Yes--yes; I have noticed it many a time."
"Well, if you could have looked under the water then, you would haveseen a fish somewhere upon the convex side of the semicircle. The fishwould be at rest--no doubt, watching the surface for his own prey: suchflies or beetles as might come along. Thus occupied, he does not heedthe great dusky mass that is gliding slowly towards him, and whichpresents no threatening appearance--for the head of the alligator is atthis time turned away from his intended victim. Although apparentlyasleep, the alligator knows what he is about well enough. He floatssilently on, until he has got the fish within sweep of his great tail,that is all the while bent like a bow; and then, taking sure aim, hestrikes the unconscious prey a `slap' that kills it at once--sometimesthrowing it directly into his jaws, and sometimes flinging it severalfeet out of the water!
"When on land the alligator strikes his prey in a similar manner. As hegives the blow, his head turns so as to meet the tail half-way--thewhole body thus forming a semicircle. Should the prey not be killed bythe blow of the tail, it is flung right into the jaws of the monster,where it is sure to be despatched in a trice."
"But, brother," inquired Basil, "why do the alligators eat stones andsuch substances? I have seen one that was opened, and his stomach wasnearly quarter full of stones as big as my fist, and pieces of sticksand glass. They looked as if they had been there a long time, for thesharp edges were worn off. This I never could understand."
"No wonder, for wiser naturalists than we do not know the reason ofthis. Some think it is upon the same principle, and for the samereason, that birds and other creatures swallow gravel and earth--toassist the process of digestion. Others have affirmed that it is forthe purpose of distending the stomach, so as to enable the reptile tobear his long fast while torpid during the winter. This latter reason Ilook upon as very absurd, and worthy only of the fabulous Buffon. Formy part, I believe that the rubbish usually found in the alligator'sstomach is collected there by accident--swallowed, from time to time, bymistake, or along with his prey; for his organs of taste are far frombeing delicate, and he will devour anything that is flung into thewater, even a glass bottle. These substances, of course, remain in hisstomach--perhaps accumulating there during his whole lifetime--and as,like most reptiles, his stomach being very strong, they do him little,if any, injury. We must not judge of an alligator's stomach as we wouldthat of a human being; nor, indeed, of any of his organs. If our brainis seriously injured, we die; but an alligator's brain may be altogetherremoved, even in the most violent manner, and the animal will crawl offand live for days after. Instances have been known of alligators havinghad their brains blown out by a shot, and yet for hours after they wouldgive battle to any one who might approach them. Their brain, like thatof all reptiles, is exceedingly small--proving them lower in the scaleof intelligence than birds and mammals."
"But, Lucien, you tell us that the habits of the crocodile family arealike, or nearly so: how comes it that the African crocodiles are somuch more fierce, as we have heard, often attacking and devouring thenatives of Senegal and the Upper Nile? Our alligators are not so. Itis true they sometimes bite the legs of our negroes; and we have heardalso of some boys who have been killed by them; but this was whenthrough negligence they came in the animals' way. They do not attackone if they are left alone. We, for instance, are not a bit afraid toapproach them with only a stick in our hands."
"That is, because we feel certain they are too clumsy on land to get atus, as we can easily leap out of the reach of their tails and jaws. Howwould you like to swim across that bayou at this moment? I dare say youwould not venture it."
"Not a bit of it--you are right there."
"And if you did, you would, in all probability, be attacked before youcould reach the opposite shore. But our alligators are not now whatthey were an hundred years ago. We know, from the best authority, thatthey were then much more fierce and dangerous, and often attacked menwithout provocation. They have grown afraid of _us_, because they knowthat we are dangerous to them; and they can easily distinguish ourupright form and shape from those of other animals. Look how they havebeen hunted by men during the mania for alligator-leather, and see howmany of them are still killed for their oil and tails. It is quitenatural, then, they should fear us; and you may notice they are muchmore timid near the plantations and settlements than in the wilderparts. I have no doubt--and I have so heard it--that there are placesin the great swamps where they are still dangerous to approach. Thosewho assert that the African crocodiles are more fierce, do not drawtheir conclusions from facts. The caimans of South America--and theseare alligators--are quite as fierce as the crocodiles. I have read manyaccounts of their attacking the natives of Guiana and Brazil, anddevouring them, too. Much of this is fabulous, no doubt; but there aresome stories of the kind well authenticated, and I have heard one whichI am certain is true. I shall relate it, if you desire, though it is avery horrible and very melancholy tale, and I could well wish it had notbeen true."
"Oh! tell it--tell it us," cried Francois. "We can bear the narrative;neither Basil nor I have weak nerves. Have we, Basil?"
"No," replied Basil. "I guess we can stand it, Frank. Go on, Luce."
"Very well, then," said Lucien, "I shall give it, as it is not long, andis therefore not likely to weary you."