Chapter 16

Beginning with the lowlier group of mammals we find in the base of the series the ornithorhynchus and its allies, creatures which have nothing to recommend them but their exceeding organic peculiarities that render them attractive to the naturalist, but which are not likely to win them a place in the affections of men in general. As these species are most inoffensive as well as interesting, and as they are now confined to a portion of Australia, they might well be made the subject of some human care which would stop short of domestication. They might be transplanted to other continents and thereby given a larger field for variation as well as a chance to exhibit their features in a wider field. Among the pouched mammals, especially in the species of kangaroo, there are forms which commend themselves as very fair subjects for taming. They are of considerable size, their flesh is palatable, and their hides useful for leather; they breed rapidly, live on a poor herbage, and are, for wild animals of like strength, very inoffensive. Moreover, though relatively invariable both in mind and body, they exhibit sufficient individual peculiarities to indicate that the breeder's art could, in a short time, bring about considerable changes such as have been effected in other species, changes that would increase the value of these animals. As far as aesthetic or sympathetic relations are concerned, the pouched mammals have nothing to give us; they are, as befits their lowly estate, among the least graceful of their class; they are also little interesting in their mental qualities, being about the stupidest of our kindred.

Among the ordinary herbivorous mammals there are several which should be domesticable which have not yet been properly subjected to experiment looking to that end. The American bison, commonly but improperly termed the buffalo, is a strong creature, one which is easily nourished. In its present condition, it is about as promising a subject for the breeder's care as were the ancestors of our horned cattle. Although there have been sundry trials of this animal as a beast of burthen, they have been of a rude as well as a brief kind, no care having been taken by selection to improve the qualities which evidently commend themselves to our use. The flesh of this species is quite as good as that of the wild bulls of the genus Bos, and the hides have a peculiar value on account of their somewhat woolly character. There is reason to believe that, bred in the region of the high north, about Lake Saskatchewan for instance, with proper selection this hairy covering could be developed much as has the wool on the sheep. This is indicated by the considerable variations in the quality of the coat which go to show that the feature is still in a very plastic state, a state that may be said to invite the assistance of man in order to bring it to the full measure of its possibilities. If this covering could be developed, the result would be to give us a domesticated beast of large size with a hairy covering having the character of a fur; such would be a great addition to our resources.

As there is a large extent of country in the high latitudes of North America, Asia, and South America, where the climate is too severe and the herbage too scanty to serve the needs of our ordinary cattle, in which a hardy feeder with a well-clad body such as the buffalo might do well, it seems most desirable to essay the experiment of domesticating the bison before it is too late, before the brutal instincts of our kind have quite made an end of the noblest animal which is native in the Americas.

There is another inhabitant of the high north of this continent which deserves the notice of those who are disposed to attend to the questions concerning the extension of man's control over nature; this is the ovibos or musk-ox. Like the buffalo, only in much higher measure, this singular creature is fit for very cold countries; his fitness being in part assured by his admirable covering of long hair as well as by his capacity for taking on fat during the short summer in sufficient store to last him through the trials of the winter season. The kinship of the musk-ox to the group of the sheep is near enough to warrant the belief that the hair could be improved by selection, and that from the process we would be likely to obtain an animal much larger than our largest sheep and yielding fleeces of peculiar value in the arts.

Among the northern carnivora there are several species which deserve attention for the reason that they may be brought to some degree of domestication which may enable us to make better use of their hairy coverings. Among these we may mention the foxes, the polar bears, and the seals. The first-named group affords at present about the dearest furs of our markets. The silver-gray variety, which at present seems to be a frequent individual variation, could doubtless be affirmed by selection, and probably could be brought to a higher state of perfection than it has as yet attained. The animals are, if we may judge from their kindred, not untamable; at least they could be brought to live in a sufficient state of captivity to permit selection. In time they might be quite domesticated. Many of the islands of the high north and south are well fitted for such experiments.

As is well known, the polar bears have a wonderfully developed hairy covering; their coats, indeed, are among the richest that exist. These animals subsist mainly on what they capture from the sea, so that it might be possible to keep them at a small expense. They are, however, of all their kindred the most indomitable; it would probably require a long and costly effort to reduce them to anything like domestication. Moreover, being strong, free swimmers, it would not be easy to maintain them in captivity. Still, selecting such a well-inundated place as Bear Island of the North Atlantic, it would be most interesting to make the experiment, first of accustoming them to some human control, and then to a selection which might serve to lift the quality of the kind. It would be less difficult and perhaps more advisable at first to make a trial of a similar sort with the black bear, which in less arctic conditions flourishes and carries a fine pelt. The only difficulty would be in finding a sufficient supply of food for such captives, for although they will eat fish they have no skill in capturing them such as is possessed by their more degraded, or perhaps we should say their less advanced kindred, the polar bears. Still, as the form is even more omnivorous than man, it might be practicable to feed them.

By far the most important of the carnivora in an economic sense are the seals which dwell in the high northern waters. These creatures afford the most interesting subjects for experiments in domestication from an economic point of view that remain to be made. Of all the predatory animals the seals seem to have the largest share of intelligence and the greatest amount of sympathetic motives. No other wild animals, except perhaps the monkeys, appear to be so human-like in their qualities of mind as these creatures of the sea. So far, except when they have been captured and kept for purposes of show in menageries, man's relations to the seals have been purely destructive; he has incessantly hunted them. Yet certain species of them remain singularly willing, we may say desirous, of claiming friendship with their persecutors. As elsewhere noted, wounded seals behave in a curiously appealing way towards their assailants. When in captivity certain of the species show a remarkable friendliness and a capacity to receive training. No other wild animals, except perhaps the elephants, exhibit so great a fitness for profiting from contact with man.

Although our knowledge as to the habits of seals is still very imperfect, it appears likely that the greater part of the species have the habit of resorting to certain places during the breeding season, and that the individuals after the manner of certain fishes return at that time to their native shore. If this be true, as there is good reason to believe it is, it should not be a matter of grave difficulty, provided the maritime nations would abet the experiment, to establish seal colonies composed of the several promising forms at fit points in the circumpolar seas. There is reason to suppose that with ordinary decent treatment the animals would become to a great degree accustomed to men, and that it might be possible to accomplish selection enough of the individuals which were left to breed, to develop the already valuable characteristics of the fur. In the present disgraceful condition of our relations to these animals it will be but a few years before we shall have to lament the extirpation of several species, including the most interesting members of the group.

Looking upon the questions of man's future on the earth in a large way, we see that there are reasons why the animals of the high north, particularly those which obtain their food from the sea, should be protected from extermination. There is a great area of country in that part of the world which is not adapted to the occupation of any of the species which have as yet been domesticated. If this portion of the world is ever to prove fruitful in other ways than through its mineral stores, it will be by the creatures which are adapted to its climate and other conditions. At the present rate of increase in numbers, the population of the world will, in the course of two or three centuries, begin seriously to press upon the resources in the way of food which the fields of the tropical and temperate zones can supply; the chances of the arctic regions may then have much importance to our successors. Moreover, in the case of the seals we find the peculiar advantage that the animals are fed entirely from the sea, so that the domestication of these forms would give to man a means, the like of which he has never possessed, whereby he would be enabled to harvest the food resources of the deep.

The beaver, particularly the North American form, offers a most attractive opportunity for a great and far-reaching experiment in domestication. On this continent, at least, the creature exhibits a range of attractive qualities which is exceeded by none other in the whole range of the lower mammalian life. No other mammal below man shows anything like the same constructive skill in the contrivance of its habitations, or is able so to modify its habits of building to meet the varied needs of its life. When this country was first visited by man near one half of its area was occupied by this species. It built its dams and dwelling-places and, when necessary, excavated its canals along all the lesser streams in the timbered regions of the northern districts. As the destructive effects of civilization increased, the animal has gradually, to a great extent, been driven away from its old haunts, and where it remains it has, as the price of life, given up its architectural habits and betaken itself to the older and simpler mode of living in a chance manner much as is now the habit of the European variety. As an illustration of this I may note, in passing, that before the civil war, when all the recesses of the forests in the region about Richmond, Virginia, had for more than a century been industriously explored by hunters, the beaver was supposed to be extinct in the district; yet during the civil war, as I am credibly informed, a colony of these creatures became established near the town of Suffolk, and there, amid the roar of a great conflict in which men ceased to seek the lesser game, they recovered their habit of building dams, which we must believe to have been discontinued for many generations. This capacity to vary action with reference to changing needs is the best possible index of the mental power of animals. Guided by the exhibition that has been given us by the beavers, we are justified in considering them to be the one group of mammals which has gained a distinct, rational constructive power. This feature makes them decidedly the most interesting group for investigations which may be expected to throw light on the problems of animal intelligence. From the economic point of view the species has a certain importance for the reason that it affords one of the most valuable kinds of fur that has ever been marketed.

The domestication of the beavers to the point where they would tolerate the presence of man should not, provided they could be protected against the depredations of poachers, be a matter of any difficulty. The colonies of these animals require only what is afforded by vast realms of our wildernesses--flowing streams of moderate fall with timber upon their banks. They are not particular as to the species, so that swift-growing kinds of trees such as the poplars may be made to serve their needs. The natural growth on a hundred acres of otherwise worthless land would probably be sufficient to maintain a colony of average size containing say twenty-five individuals. In the region about the great lakes and for some distance to the northward and to the east and west there are great areas amounting in the aggregate to some hundred thousand square miles that would apparently be well suited to the nurture of this form, and which in the present condition of the country, as well as for the immediate future, cannot be turned to better use. It may be remarked that the domestication of the beavers would afford yet another means, in addition to those above noted, whereby we might be able to win some profit from the great wilderness of the north, which is, so far as our existing means of appropriating its resources, of little use to mankind. The only evident way by which we may hope to win profit from this part of our continent is by using it as a field for rearing animals that have yet to be subjugated; none of our captive varieties are fit for the service.

In the tropical parts of the world there are many mammalian species which are worthy subjects for essays in domestication. This is particularly the case in the continent of Africa where, except in the lands about the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, the native peoples have never attained the stage of culture in which men become strongly inclined to subjugate wild animals. Africa is richer in large herbivorous species than any other of the great lands; many of these forms are of large size and have qualities of flesh, of hide, or other peculiar features which promise to make them valuable in an economic way. Others, especially the antelopes, have a beauty of form and a grace of movement which render them among the most attractive creatures of their class. Even the hippopotamus, one of the grossest beasts of this realm, affords in its teeth a valuable ivory, and its hides, if supplied in sufficient quantity, would probably find a considerable use. It is evident that in this "dark continent," where the influences which make for human advancement have been so slight, we have the best field for the selection of species that may hereafter be brought to the use of man. There is evidently danger, in the advance in the civilizing process, that the native forms which, owing to their fitness to the physical conditions of the country, might be made useful to its people, may be utterly destroyed by hunters.

Perhaps the most interesting of the tropical beasts from the point of view which we occupy is the elephant: This animal in its relations to men is eminently peculiar, in that while it has been in an individual way long and completely subjugated, it has never been systematically reared in captivity. Owing, it may be, to the slow growth of these great beasts, as well as to the immediate manner in which they submit to their captors, it has ever been the custom to take them when adult from the wilderness. The result is that the supply of the Asiatic species, which alone is serviceable--the African form being apparently too fierce for use--is now dependent on a relatively small number of wild herds. Certain of these herds are protected by the governments of India, but it seems as if the species were already dangerously near the vanishing point--in a position where the invasion of some disease or some insect enemy might deprive the world of what is, all things considered, the most interesting of the brutes. Moreover, the failure to rear elephants in captivity has made it impossible to essay any of those experiments in breeding which have done so much to improve the utility and the beauty of most subjugated forms.

If the elephants could be reared in captivity there is little reason to doubt that with a few centuries of selection they might be made to vary in many important ways. It is evident that the form and mental quality of these creatures is as plastic as those features in the other domesticated animals have been proved to be. Moreover, the group, though it is now represented by but two recognized species, was in comparatively recent times quite rich in varieties, a fact which raises the presumption that the existing kinds are open to modification by the selective process. As the elephant is not mature until it is near thirty years old, probably not reproducing until about that age, there is little inducement for any person to undertake the process of breeding them in the selective way; if the task is ever done it will have to be accomplished by government action or by that of a society which is pledged to such tasks. If the effort to bring the elephants into a more permanent relation with man is not made and the race is allowed to perish, we may be sure that in the time to come people will gravely censure us for any such neglect of the opportunities which this world affords as would be involved in the loss of this noble brute. It is clearly our duty to see that all such resources are preserved for the inquirers of the future.

Among the other tropical mammals which, because they have not as yet proved of economic value, are on account of their size and their attractiveness to sportsmen in danger of extinction, we may note the various species of rhinoceros, the giraffe, and the several African forms which are akin to the horse. None of these forms have been turned to use, none of them appear likely to be adopted by man for the service they can do; but they are, in common with all the host which cannot be mentioned here, of great interest to the naturalists of our time. Their importance in the inquiries which are hereafter to be made by our ever expanding science of life cannot be estimated. It certainly will not be possible to overreckon it in this very practical age. This plea for the sparing of the mammalian species in no case needs to be made so strongly, and in no other instance is so well entitled to a hearing, as when it is raised for the life of the monkeys. These interesting animals because of their collateral kinship with man afford precious evidence as to the stages of intellectual development which is likely to be of exceeding value to students in that field of inquiry. There is unfortunately little chance that any of the monkeys will ever prove useful; their habits are such that they are generally troublesome neighbors; moreover, their weakness makes it easy to exterminate them. The result is that some species have probably already been destroyed, and others are in conditions where during the next century they are likely to vanish. In the animate realm it is hard to choose the forms which are to be the most important for the naturalists of the time to come, but it is certain that these students will deplore the loss of the simian life and charge us sorely if we neglect due effort for its preservation.

Although the matter before us concerns the domestication of animals, it may be well to devote a little attention to the question of the wild plants which need protection or which promise to afford unwon values. It may be said that plants in general are much less likely than animals to be disturbed by the process of bringing a country under the conditions of civilization. With rare exceptions the individuals of each species are so numerous that, like the insects, they escape by their numbers the risk of the extinction of their kinds. Moreover, the ease with which nearly all the kinds can be brought under cultivation, and the fact that they present no self-will to be dominated, makes the task of dealing with them, in a protective way, infinitely easier than in the case of animals. So far as we know, there has not been an instance in which a continental species of plant has been exterminated by man, while there are a number of the larger animals which have been swept away apparently by human agency, and there are many more which are on the verge of extinction. Therefore, so far as the plant world is concerned, we may for the present at least trust the species to their own powers to maintain them against the rude assaults of civilization. If here and there one is overrun by the wheels of our economic engines, something of value to the student is lost, but the loss does not include the element of mind which is hereafter to be the subject of so much study.

The foregoing considerations make it evident that the problem of domestication shades into the question as to the preservation of the life which is now on the earth, and this with a view to the advantage which the arts, the sciences, or general culture may obtain from the preservation of the useful, the instructive, and the beautiful things in the realm of nature from the swift destruction which our rude subjugation of the earth threatens to inflict. To deal with this problem in an adequate manner we must ask ourselves what limits are to be set to the displacement of the ancient order which is now going on. We see that wherever civilization enters, and even where its first influences are felt, the olden societies of nature are disturbed or broken up. All the nobler members of these associations, the greater mammals, many of the larger birds, and a host of the lesser forms, are expelled or destroyed. In the condition of organic life when the supremely predatory creature man rose to domination, the species were grouped in those vast organizations which were of old termed faunae and florae, but which are now better known as biological fields or provinces. In each of these hosts the several species were, as regards their external life, so balanced with their neighbors that the assemblage from the point of view of these relations might well be compared with the polities or states of man's construction. Such an organic society represents the result of a series of trials and balances which began to be made in the immeasurably remote past and have been continued through the geologic ages, each age adding something to the accord. The plants give and take from the animals; the insects are equated with the birds, and each species in every group has set up an accord with its rivals. From time to time the host has by the changes of sea and land been compelled to migrate, moving this way and that to find its fit station. In these movements species are rapidly extinguished, much as the weaker soldiers of an army perish in forced marches. Into their places new forms hasten to take their place, so that every position of advantage is filled. At a less rapid rate, but perpetually, even without the change of abode, which it is often by climatic changes compelled to make, the organic host is slowly changing in character; old kinds give way in the endless contest to new varieties which have managed to establish a better relation to the environment. Still the legions press on towards the great accomplishment of a higher and nobler life.