Chapter 8

It is evident that the variability of our domesticated bovines, as far as their bodies are concerned, is very great. Between the ancient aurochs and the more highly cultivated of its descendants, the difference is as great as that which separates any other of our captive animals from their wild ancestors. In size, shape, in flesh-and milk-giving qualities, the departure from the old form of the wilderness is remarkable. Moreover, at the present time these diverse breeds of horned cattle are rapidly being multiplied, the distinctive forms probably being twice as numerous as they were at the beginning of the present century. The process of selection has led to some very wide diversifications of the body. The horns, which in the wild state are invariably well developed, and which in the cattle of our Western plains attain very great size, have in certain breeds altogether disappeared, and in their place there sometimes comes a remarkable crest of bony matter which does not project beyond the skin which covers the head. If such differences occurred in the wild state, they would be regarded as separating the two types of animals widely from each other.

In treating the wool-bearing animals along with beasts of burden, we make a somewhat fanciful classification which yet is not quite without reason. By long training man has brought these species to the state where their covering of wool or hair, once a coating only sufficient to afford protection from the weather, has become a very serious load. In certain of our highly developed varieties the annual coat is so far increased that the creature loses a large part of its bulk after the shearer has done his work. Each year's fleece often amounts in weight to eight to twelve pounds, and in its lifetime the animal may yield a mass of wool far exceeding its weight of flesh and bones in any time of its life. When the fleece is mature the animal is often burdened with a load about as heavy in proportion to his size as is a horse by the weight of its rider and accoutrements.

As a flesh producer, particularly in sterile fields, sheep are more valuable than our horned cattle. They mature more rapidly, attaining their adult size and reproducing their kind in less than two years, so that in many parts of the world it is possible to obtain a larger quantity of flesh from poor pasturages with sheep than with any other of our domesticated animals. Their principal value, however, has been from the means they afforded whereby men in high latitudes have obtained warm clothing. Before the domestication of these creatures, peoples who had to endure the winter of high latitudes were forced to rely upon hides for covering--a form of clothing which is clumsy, uncleanly, and which the chase could not supply in any considerable quantity. Owing to its peculiar structure, the hair of the sheep makes the strongest and warmest covering, when rendered into cloth, which has ever been devised for the use of man. The value of this contribution is directly related to the conditions of climate. In the intertropical regions the sheep plays no part of importance. In high latitudes it is of the utmost value to man. No other of our domesticated creatures, except the camel, is so specially adapted to the needs which peculiarities of climate impose upon their possessors.

The relations of the goat to mankind are in certain ways peculiar. The creature has long been subjugated, probably having come into the human family before the dawn of history. It has been almost as widely disseminated, among barbarian and civilized peoples alike, as the sheep. It readily cleaves to the household, and exhibits much more intelligence than the other members of our flocks and herds. It yields good milk, the flesh is edible, though in the old animals not savory, and the hair can be made to vary in a larger measure than any of our animals which are shorn. Yet this creature has never obtained the place in relation to man to which it seems entitled. Only here and there is it kept in considerable numbers or made the basis of extensive industries. The reason for this seems to be that these animals cannot readily be kept in flocks in the manner of sheep. They are only partly gregarious, and tend to stray from the owner's keeping. There seems reason also to believe that they cannot easily be made to vary in other characteristics except their hairy covering at the will of the breeder, and so varieties cannot be formed, as is the case with sheep, to suit each peculiarity of soil and climate. Thus in Europe, where it would be easy to name a score of distinct breeds of sheep, each peculiarly well suited to the conditions of the country where it had been developed, the goats are singularly alike. The original stock of these creatures appears to have been adapted to feeding on the scant herbage which develops in rocky and mountainous countries. They do not seem able to make the perfect use of the resources of a pasture which sheep do. These inherited peculiarities in feeding enable them to pick up a subsistence where they may range over a considerable territory, even where it seems to afford no forms of food for the hungriest animal. Thus in that part of the city of New York known as "Shanty town," goats may be seen in fairly good condition, although the sole source of food, besides a few stray weeds, appears to be the paste of the paper advertisements which they pick from the rocks and fences.

Although goats appear to be characterized by invariable bodies, our sheep are, in physical characteristics, among the most flexible of our domesticated animals. They may by selection readily and rapidly be made to vary as regards the character of their wool, the size and proportion of their muscles, and the quantity and placing of the fat. In all these features they may be fairly blown to and fro by the wind of favor. Between the meagre-bodied merino, with its skeleton-like frame and heavily wrinkled skin bearing a vast burden of long wool, and the heavy Hampshire-downs or South-downs, there is really an immense difference in bodily quality; yet these variations represent only a century or two of careful experiment on the part of the breeders. It seems not improbable that in the present state of this developing art it would be possible, in a hundred years, to reverse the conditions of these two varieties.

Sheep and goats, like the other herbivorous species which are the common tenants of our fields and forests, belong to the great class of dull-witted mammals in which the intellectual processes appear to be almost altogether limited to ancient and simple emotions, such as are inspired by fear or hunger. They are characterized by little individuality of mind, and although the needs of men have not led to any experiment in developing their wits, as in the case of dogs, there is no reason to believe that they afford much foundation for such essays. The present rapid variations in the physical characteristics of our sheep which are induced by the breeder's skill, make it evident that we are far from having attained the maximum profit from these creatures. The goats also give promise, when selective work is carefully done upon them, of giving much more than they now afford to the uses of mankind; but from neither of these forms is there reason to hope, at least on our present lines of experiment, for any considerable gain in the intellectual qualities.

We have already noted the fact that the sheep is especially adapted to serve man in high latitudes, where he has to provide against the winter's cold. The camel is an even more striking instance in which the value of the creature depends upon climatal peculiarities. It is peculiarly fitted, by its ancestral training and development, for the use of men who dwell in arid countries. In the olden days of the later Tertiary epoch, creatures akin to the camels appear to have been widely distributed, and were probably adapted to considerable variations of environment. Within the time of which we know something by history, these forms have been limited to the arid districts of southwestern Asia and northern Africa. It is not certain that we know the originally wild form of either of the two species, the double-humped or single-humped camels. Wild members of each exist, but they may be the descendants of the domesticated forms. It seems probable that long before the building of the Pyramids the people of the deserts had learned how to profit from the very peculiar qualities of this strangely provided beast, which in several distinct ways is singularly fitted to serve the needs of man in arid lands. The large and well-padded foot of this creature is well adapted for treading a surface unsoftened by vegetation. Its peculiar stomach enables it to store water in such a manner that it can go for days without drink. In the humps upon its back, as in natural pack-saddles, it may harvest a share of the nutriment which it obtains from occasional good pasturages, the store being laid away in the form of fat which may return to the blood when the creature would otherwise starve. So important have these peculiarities been found by men who have domesticated the camel, that on them have rested many of the most interesting features of race development in the history of our kind. In the territories along the eastern and southern shores of the Mediterranean, and in a large part of southern and central Asia, the camel has done service to man which elsewhere has been performed by sheep, cattle, and horses. In those parts of the world the share which these domesticated animals have had in the development of man has been relatively small. The camel has given the strength for burdens, hair for clothing, and often flesh to the needy men of the desert.

Although long a captive, and for ages, perhaps, the most serviceable of all the creatures which man has won from the wilds, the camel is still only partly domesticated, having never acquired even the small measure of affection for his master which we find in the other herbivorous animals which have been won to the service of man. The obedience which he renders is but a dull submission to inevitable toil. The intelligence which he shows is very limited, and, so far as I can judge from the accounts of those who have observed him, there is but little variation in his mental qualities. As a whole, the creature appears to be innately the dullest and least improvable of all our servitors. The fact is, this animal belongs to an ancient and lowly type of mammals characterized by relatively small brains, and therefore of weak intelligence; but, for its singular serviceableness in drought-ridden countries, it would probably have been hunted off the earth by the early men, as have been many other remnants of the ancient life.

It is somewhat characteristic of the older forms of animals, those which took shape in the earlier Tertiary periods, that they are less variable than those which acquired their characteristics in times nearer our own. It is a fact well known to the students of paleontology, that species and genera which have been long on the earth are apt to become in a way rigid as regards their qualities of body and mind. It is an interesting fact that, although the camel can readily be transplanted to many other parts of the world, where the physiographic conditions are similar to those of the realm where he has served man so well, he has never been thoroughly successful except in the regions where he has been in use for ages. In the desert regions of the Cordilleras of America, in South Africa, and in Australia, various experiments go to show that the creature could be perfectly reconciled to its environment. Many years ago a lot of camels were brought to the valley of the Rio Grande with a view to their utilization in that region, which closely resembles the desert countries about the Mediterranean. These animals were thoroughly successful in meeting the climatal conditions of the region. They proved as strong and as fertile as in their natural realms. Although it is said they survive to the present day, they have never been of any service to the people.

Although, as before noted, the camel has a certain value for other purposes than conveying burdens, these subsidiary uses are so far limited that the creature is not likely to retain a place in the world after his service in caravans is no longer called for. The rapid recivilization of northern Africa, leading as it does to the development of a railway system in that region, promises to displace this creature from his most trodden ways. It seems likely that the other portions of the desert lands in the old world will soon be brought under the same civilizing influences, the nomadic tribes reduced to a stationary habit of life, and the commerce effected in the modern manner. When this change is brought about, this old-time animal, which but for the care of man would have probably long since passed away, will be likely, save so far as it may be preserved through motives of scientific interest, to join the great array of vanished species.

It affords a pleasant contrast to turn from the consideration of the camels to a study of the elephants. The difference in the measure of attractiveness of the two forms is very great, and depends upon facts of remarkable interest. Unlike the camel--which, as we have seen, is the last survivor of an ancient lineage, represented by but two species, and these limited to a small part of the world--the elephant, at the time when man appears to have taken shape, seems to have existed on all the continental lands except Australia, and to have been in a state of singular prosperity. As is often the case with other vigorous genera of mammals, the species were adapted to a very great variety of climates, and were fitted to endure tropic heat as well as arctic cold.

The group of elephants is first known to us in the early part of Tertiary time. From its first appearance on our stage it seems to have been successful in a high measure, and this probably by reason of its possession of the remarkable invention of the trunk--a prolonged and marvellously flexible nose which serves in the manner of an arm and hand for gathering food.

When we first find traces of mankind in the records of the rocks, in what appears to be an age just anterior to the Glacial epoch, the elephant had passed the experimental stages of its development and was firmly established as the king of beasts. In his adult form he had nothing to fear from any of the lower animals, and by the organization of herds it is probable that even the young were tolerably safe from assault. Until the early races of men had attained a considerable skill in the use of weapons, the great beasts were probably safe from human attack. We may well believe that primitive savages shunned them as unconquerable. As early, perhaps, as the closing stages of the Glacial epoch in Europe, we find evidences which pretty clearly show that the folk of that land, probably belonging to some race other than our own, had attained a state of the warlike arts in which they could venture to hunt this creature.

The species of elephant which was hunted by the early men of Europe, and perhaps also by those in Asia and America as well, was a greater and, at least in appearance, a more formidable monster than the living species of Asia or Africa. He was on the average taller and probably bulkier than any of his living kindred. The tusks were large and curved in a curious scimitar form. Adding to the might of its aspect was a vast covering of hair, which on the neck appears to have had the form of a mane. This covering must have greatly increased the apparent size of the creature, which no doubt appeared about twice as large as any of our modern elephants which are nearly hairless. Although the perils of this ancient chase must have been great, the triumphs were equally so, and to a people who lived by hunting, most profitable; a single animal would furnish more food than scores of the lesser beasts such as the reindeer.

It seems probable that the ancient northern elephant continued in existence in North America down to the time when this continent was inhabited by man. It can hardly be doubted that the very ancient human beings, whose remains are preserved to us beneath the lava streams of California, dwelt on the continent along with the mammoth. In excavations which I have made at Big Bone Lick in Kentucky, where a group of saline springs emerges at the bottom of a valley, there were disclosed a very great number of skeletons of this great elephant, commingled with the bones of one or two smaller forms of the related genus, the mastodon. At a slightly higher level was the multitude of remains belonging to an extinct species of bison which came just before our so-called buffalo, while near the surface of the ground was found the waste of the creatures which were in the field when it was first seen by the white men. A very careful search failed to reveal any trace of man until the uppermost level was attained. The facts, which cannot well be discussed here, have led me to the conclusion that only a few thousand years can have elapsed since the mammoth and the mastodon plentifully abounded in North America; but I am forced to doubt whether our savages were here in time to make acquaintance with these animals.

It is not certain that the extermination of the great northern elephant or mammoth even in the Old World came about through the action of man. It is possible that the death was due to more natural causes, such as the change of climate which attended the decline of the Glacial period, or to the attacks of some insect enemy like the tsetze fly of South Africa, which occasionally brings destruction to cattle in that part of the world. On the whole, however, it seems most probable that the extermination of this noble beast is to be accounted among the brutal triumphs of mankind, perhaps as the first of the long tale of destructions which he has inflicted upon his fellow-creatures. However this may be, it is clear that at the dawn of civilization the species of the genus elephas had become limited to that part of the African continent which lies south of the Sahara, and to the portion of Asia east of the Persian Gulf and south of China. The remnant consisted of two species: the African form, on the average the larger of the two, a fierce and scarcely domesticable creature; and the Asiatic, a milder-natured species which alone has been to any extent brought into the service of man.

It is not certain when or where elephants were first reduced to domestication. In the dawn of history we find them used to enhance the state of princes and for the purposes of war. It seems possible that in this early day the African as well as the Asiatic species was tamed, at least to the point where they could be made to serve in battle. We can hardly believe that all these animals which were at the command of Hannibal and the other generals of North Africa, came from the Asiatic realm. The fact that in modern times the species which dwells south of the Sahara has not been turned to the uses of man, may be accounted for by the lowly estate of the native people in that part of the world, and the lack of need for such creatures in the economic conditions of the Aryan folk who have settled along the shores and in the southern part of that continent.

The relations of man to the elephant are more peculiar than those which he has formed with any other domesticated animal. Although the creature will breed in captivity, its reproduction in that state is exceptional, and it is many years before the offspring are fit for any service. It is indeed about thirty years before the creature is sufficiently adult to attain a good measure of strength and endurance. It has therefore been the habit of the people who avail themselves of this admirable beast to use the captures which they make in the wilderness. It is a most interesting and exceptional fact that these captive elephants, though bred in perfect freedom and provided with none of those inherited instincts so essentially a part of the value of our other domesticated quadrupeds, become helpful to man and attached to him in a way which is characteristic of none other of our ancient companions except the dog. It is safe to say that the Asiatic elephant is the most innately domesticable, and the best fitted by nature for companionship with man, of all our great quadrupeds. The qualities of mind which in our other domesticated quadrupeds have been slowly developed by thousands of years of selection and intercourse with our kind, are in this creature a part of its wild estate.

It appears from trustworthy anecdotes that the Asiatic elephants in a few months of captivity acquire the rules of conduct which it is necessary to impose upon them. The speediness of this intellectual subjugation may be judged from the fact that, after a short term of domestication, they will take a willing and intelligent part in capturing their kindred of the wilderness, showing in this work little or no disposition to rejoin the wild herds. In the case of no other animal do we find anything like such an immediate adhesion to the ways of civilization. We have to account for this eminent peculiarity of the elephant on the supposition, which appears to be thoroughly justified, that the creature has, even in its wild state, a type of intelligence and instincts more nearly like those of men than is the case with any other wild mammal, an affinity with human quality which is, perhaps, only approached by certain species of birds. It appears from the observations of naturalists that the family or tribe of wild elephants is a distinct and highly sympathetic community. The grade and value of the friendly feeling which prevails among them may be judged by the fact that, when one of the males becomes lost or is driven away from its associates, it does not seem to be able to join any other tribe, but becomes a "rogue," or solitary individual, and in this state develops a morose and furious temper.

There are many well-attested stories which serve to show that wild elephants have a kind of intelligence which indicates a certain constructive capacity. Of these, perhaps the best are the instances in which the creatures have been caught in pitfalls, made by digging a hole in the paths of the wilderness which they are accustomed to follow, the surface being covered with a frail platform so arranged as to conceal the excavation. When one of a tribe is caught in the trap, the others, if time allows before the hunters come to the ground, will in an ingenious way release him. I doubt if the most practicable manner of effecting this will occur at once to the reader. The easiest plan may seem to drag the captive from the pit by sheer strength, but as the hole is deep and has vertical sides, the elephants contrive a better way. They bring bits of timber, which they throw into the pitfall, the captive treads them down until he is elevated to a position whence he can escape from his prison.