Читать книгу Nature's Teachings - John George Wood - Страница 12

Anglers and their Hooks.—Single and double Hooks.—Hook of British Columbia.—Seed of Galium, or Goose-grass, and its Armature of Hooks.—Seed of the Burdock, and its Annoyance to Sheep.—Hooked Sponge-spicules.—“Snatching” Fish.—The Fish-rake of British Columbia.—The “Gaff” and its Uses.—The Jaguar as a Fisher—Defensive Armour and its Varieties.—Plate and Chain Mail.—The Shield.—Australian and West African Shields.—Fibre Armour.—Seal’s-tooth Cuirass.—Joints of Armour.—“Tassets.”—Scale Armour in Art and Nature.—The Manis and the Fish.—Feather Armour.—“Madoc in Aztlan.”—Quilted Armour of Silk or Cotton.—Terrible Results from the latter.—Mr. Justice Maulstatute.—Natural Quilt Armour.—The Rhinoceros and the Whale.—The Testudo of the ancient Romans, and its Uses.—The common Tortoise.—The Fort.—Curious Transitions in Fort building; first Earth, then Stone, then Earth again.—Advantage of Earthen Mounds.—Natural Snow-fort made by the Elk, and its Defensive Powers against the Wolf.

The Hook

HAVING now seen that the rod and line of anglers have their prototypes in Nature, we will proceed to the hook, by which the fish are secured.

The two figures on the right hand of the accompanying illustration represent hooks which are familiar to every angler. The lower is the ordinary fish-hook, which can be used in so many ways. Generally it is employed singly, being fastened to the end of a line, and armed with a bait, either real or artificial. Sometimes, however, these hooks are whipped together, back to back, three or even four being so employed, and thus forming a combination of the hook and grapnel, and rendering the escape of a fish almost impossible.

Above it is a double hook, such as is used in “trolling” for pike, and with the use of which many of my readers are probably acquainted.

The third is a singularly ingenious hook made by the natives of British Columbia. It is almost entirely made of wood, with the exception of the barb, which is of bone. This, as the reader will see, is fixed, not to the point of the hook, as with us, but to its base, the point being directed towards the central portion of the curve.

At first sight this seems to be a singular arrangement, but it is a very effective one, as any one may see by placing the point between the fingers and pushing it through them. It will be found impossible to force it back again, the sharp point of the bone-barb coming against them and retaining them.

It has also another advantage. Very large fish, for which this hook is intended, are apt in their struggles to reverse the hook, and so to weaken its hold. In this hook, however, such a proceeding is impossible; for, even should the hook be reversed, it still retains its hold, the barb becoming the point, and the point keeping the lip of the fish against the tip of the barb. The figure is drawn from a specimen in my collection.

If the reader will look at the illustration, he will see a globular object covered with little hooks. This is a magnified representation of the seed-vessel of the common Goose-grass (Galium), which is so luxuriant in our hedges, and often intrudes itself into our gardens. Its long, trailing stems, with their tightly-clinging leaves, are familiar to all, and there are few who have not, while children, pelted each other with the little round green seed-vessels during the time that the fruit is in season. That they clung so tightly as not to be removed without difficulty, we all knew, but we did not all know the cause. The magnifying-glass, however, reveals the secret at once. The whole of the surface is covered with little sharp prickles, curved like hooks, and turned in all directions, so that, however it may be thrown, some of them are sure to catch.

So readily do these hooks hold to anything which they touch, that if a lady only sweeps her dress against a plant of Goose-grass, she is sure to carry off a considerable number of the seed-vessels, and to waste much time afterwards in picking them off.

The seed-vessel of the common Burdock, known popularly by the name of Bur, is armed in a similar manner, but, as it is much larger, it is easily avoided. Sheep suffer greatly from burs, which twist themselves among the wool so firmly that it is hardly possible to remove them without cutting away bur and wool together. As to a Skye terrier, when once he gets among burs, his life is a misery to him (I was going to say, a burden to him, but it would have looked like a pun).

Below, and on the left of the Galium-seed, are some spicules of the Hymedesmia, a sponge which is found on the coast of Madeira. The following account of it occurs in the Intellectual Observer, vol. ii. p. 312:—

“Fish-hook Spiculæ.—We have received from Mr. Baker, of Holborn, a slide containing spicules of the Hymedesmia Johnsonii, which are stated to be rare objects in this country. They have the form of a double fish-hook, and on the inner surface of each hook is an extremely sharp knife-edge projection, corresponding with a similar and equally sharp projection from the inside of the shank.”

“These minute knife-blades are so arranged that in addition to their cutting properties, they would act as barbs, obstructing the withdrawal of the hook. The two hooks attached to one shank are not in the same place, but nearly at right angles with one another, so that when one is horizontal the other is vertical, or nearly so. A magnification of four or five hundred linear does not in any way detract from the sharp appearance of the knife-edges, and they may take their place with the anchors of the Synapta as curious illustrations of the occurrence in living organisms of forms which man was apt to fancy were exclusively the products of his own contrivance and skill.

“We presume that these hooks of the Hymedesmia answer the usual purpose of spiculæ in strengthening the soft tissue, but they must likewise render the sponge an awkward article for the Madeira sea-slugs to eat.”

For an account and figures of the Synapta anchor-spicules see page 39.

We now come to another modification of the hook. I presume that many of my readers have heard of the practice called “snatching” fish, though I hope that they have never been unsportsmanlike enough to follow it.

This plan, which is only worthy of poachers, consists in taking several flights of treble or quadruple hooks, dropping them gently by the side of the fish, and then, with a sudden jerk, driving them into any part of its body which they may happen to strike. Most anglers have snatched fish accidentally, but to do so intentionally is ranked among the worst of an angler’s crimes, and is equivalent to cheating at cards, or playing with false dice.

In some parts of the world, however, there are certain small fish which are never taken in any other way, and, indeed, are raked out of the water just as a gardener rakes dead leaves off the path or beds.

In British Columbia there are certain lakes tenanted largely with small fish which form a considerable portion of the natives’ diet. They swim in vast shoals close to the surface of the water, and are captured by veritable rakes, one of which is shown in the illustration. The points of the rake are slightly curved, and very sharp, and so numerous are the fish that when the native has struck his rake among the shoal, and drawn it into the boat, he generally finds a fish on every tooth, while it often happens that two or three are transfixed by the same tooth. A sharp knock against the side of the boat shakes off the prey, and the fisherman again strikes his rake into the shoal. By this simple mode of fishing a couple of men will, in a few hours, load a canoe with small but valuable fish.

Below the rake is the “Gaff,” an instrument, not to say a weapon, which is indispensable when salmon or other large fish are to be caught. For ordinary-sized fish a landing-net is sufficient, but no landing-net could either receive or retain a salmon of any size.

Recourse is then had to the Gaff, which is simply a huge hook at the end of a handle. The fish being “played” until it can be drawn within reach, the gaff is slipped under it, struck into the side of the salmon, and by its aid the fish is easily lifted out of the water.

On the left hand of the illustration are two figures showing how the principle of the fish-rake and gaff has been anticipated in Nature.

It is a well-known fact that the Jaguar feeds largely on fish, which it catches for itself. It goes down to the river-side as close to the water as possible, and waits patiently for its prey. As soon as a fish comes within reach, the Jaguar stretches out its paw to the fullest extent, and, with a stroke of the curved claws, hooks the fish on shore, just as the Vancouver Islander does with his fish-rake, or the English angler with his gaff.

Many persons have practically experienced the gaff-like powers of the feline claw by the loss of their gold-fish. It is seldom safe to leave a globe of gold-fish within reach of a cat. Nearly all cats are madly fond of fish, and, in spite of their instinctive hatred of water, will hook out the fish with their claws, and eat them. Indeed, there are several instances on record where a cat has regularly caught fish, and brought them home to its owner. Mr. F. Buckland gives an account of a fisherman’s cat, which used to go out with her master, jump into the sea, secure a fish, and then be lifted on board with her prey.

Above the Jaguar is drawn a single claw, so as to show the form of the instrument by which the fish is captured.

Armour

We will now take the subject of Defensive Armour, by which warriors are enabled to protect themselves against the offensive weapons of the enemy.

As many readers will probably know, armour reached its greatest development in the Middle Ages, when the knight was so completely cased in steel that no weapon then in use could penetrate his panoply.

The head, body, and limbs were covered with steel plates curiously articulated at the joints, so as to give freedom of motion, while guarding the wearer from any ordinary weapon. A warrior might be beaten from his horse by a mace, or struck down by a lance, or the horse itself might be killed under him.

In either of these cases the fallen knight was not much the worse, until a weapon called the “Misericorde,” or dagger of mercy, was invented. This was a poniard with a very slender and very sharp blade, so constructed that it could be driven between the joints of the armour, and thus inflict a mortal wound. The Misericorde, however, was baffled by the use of chain or scale armour under the plate-mail, and then the only way of getting at the fallen knight was by breaking up the armour with hammers which were made for this express purpose.

Perhaps the reader may wonder that any one should lie quietly and allow himself to be so badly treated. The very strength of the armour, however, which rendered its wearer unassailable by ordinary weapons, involved so much weight, that when a knight had fallen, it was impossible for him to rise, much less to mount a horse, without help. Moreover, the first blow of a weighty hammer on the helmet would, although it could not kill the wearer, cause such a jar to his brain as partially, if not wholly, to stun him.

The rapidly increasing power of firearms soon caused armour to be laid aside, and now the only remains of it are to be found in the helmets and cuirasses worn by our dragoons.

There are few parts of the world where armour of some sort is not used. Putting aside civilised or semi-civilised nations, we find that in most cases, wherever there is war, there is armour of some kind. Sometimes it is movable, and in that case is called a shield.

The most singular shields that I know are those made by the Australians, which are so shaped that no one who did not know their use would take them for shields. They are about three feet long, four inches wide at the back, six inches or so thick in the middle, tapering towards the ends, and coming to an edge in front. They are held by the centre with one hand, so that they can be rapidly twisted from side to side, and so serve to parry the spear or stop the boomerang. The weight of the shield enables it to withstand the shock of the boomerang, which whirls through the air with terrific force.

Several warlike savage tribes have, however, no armour of any kind, such as the New Zealanders, the Samoans, and the Fijians.

Sometimes the armour is affixed to the body, and of such protection many examples are to be found in various museums, among which the Christy collection is pre-eminent.

Among the Polynesians cocoa-nut fibre was at one time employed as the material for armour. It was twisted into small cords, and with these a sort of armour was constructed, quite strong enough to resist any weapon that an enemy of their own kind could bring against them. Sometimes this armour was merely a belt wide enough to protect the abdomen, but sometimes the whole body was defended, from the neck to the hips.

In the United Service Museum there is a very remarkable cuirass, which is made of successive rows of seals’ teeth, each row overlapping the other like the tiles of a house. It is very heavy, weighing quite as much as a steel cuirass, and was probably quite as effective against the primitive weapons which could be brought to bear upon it.

Now for Natural Armour.

There are so many examples of armour, as furnished by Nature, that I can only mention a few.

Any one who looks at a lobster, crayfish, prawn, or shrimp, must at once see that in it lies the prototype of plate armour. That portion of the lobster which is popularly called the head, and is scientifically known as the “carapace,” is not jointed, and corresponds with the cuirass of ancient or modern armour. Then comes the part called the “tail,” the joints of which are exactly like those employed in the shoulders, elbows, knees, and ankles of ancient armour. The lobster tail will again be mentioned in connection with another branch of human art.

As for the heavy, ungraceful armour which was used in tilting, we have an admirable example in the Trunk-fish of the tropical seas (Ostracion), the whole of which is enclosed in a bony case, the fins and tail protruding through openings in it. In fact, the scales, instead of being separate, are fused together so as to form a continuous covering. The Box-tortoise of South America is another good example, the creature being furnished with bony flaps with which it covers the apertures through which the head, legs, and tail are protruded, and so is as impervious as the knight of old.

In the later ages of armour, the thighs, instead of being enclosed in steel coverings with cuisses, were defended by a number of steel plates called “tassets.” Now these tassets are exactly like the defensive armour of the Armadillo’s back, and, though it is not likely that the inventor of tassets should have seen an Armadillo, the fact still remains, that Art has been anticipated by Nature.

Exactly the same principle is seen in that wonderful little animal, the Pichiciago of South America, which is shown in the lower left-hand figure of the illustration. This creature is not only furnished with bony rings on the body like those of the Armadillo, but has likewise a flap which comes over the hindquarters, and effectually defends it against the attacks of any foe that might pursue it into its burrow.

In the lower right-hand corner of the illustration is seen a figure of a Chiton, several species of which are common on most of our coasts. This is one of the molluscs, which adheres to the rock just as limpets do. But, whereas the shell of the limpet is all in one piece and inflexible, that of the Chiton is composed of several pieces, which are arranged exactly like the tassets of armour, and enable the Chiton to accommodate itself to the inequalities of the rocks to which it is adhering.