THE PELICAN
The Pelican of the wilderness—Attitudes of the bird—Its love of solitude—Derivation of the Hebrew word—Fantastic interpretation—Mode of feeding the young—Fables regarding the Pelican—Breeding-places of the bird—The object of its wide wings and large pouch—Colour of the Pelican.
On page 490 it has been mentioned that in two passages of Scripture, the word which is translated in the Authorized Version as Cormorant, ought to have been rendered as Pelican. These, however, are not the first passages in which we meet with the word kaath. The name occurs in the two parallel passages of Lev. xi. and Deut. xiv. among the list of birds which are proscribed as food. Passing over them, we next come to Ps. cii. 6. In this passage, the sacred writer is lamenting his misery: "By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.
"I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the desert."
In these sentences, we see that the Kaath was a bird of solitude that was to be found in the "wilderness," i.e. far from the habitations of man. This is one of the characteristics of the Pelican, which loves not the neighbourhood of human beings, and is fond of resorting to broad, uncultivated lands, where it will not be disturbed.
In them it makes its nest and hatches its young, and to them it retires after feeding, in order to digest in quiet the ample meal which it has made. Mr. Tristram well suggests that the metaphor of the Psalmist may allude to the habit common to the Pelican and its kin, of sitting motionless for hours after it has gorged itself with food, its head sunk on its shoulders, and its bill resting on its breast.
This is but one of the singular, and often grotesque, attitudes in which the Pelican is in the habit of indulging.
THE PELICAN.
"I am like a pelican in the wilderness."—Ps. cii. 6.
There are before me a number of sketches made of the Pelicans at the Zoological Gardens, and in no two cases does one attitude in the least resemble another. In one sketch the bird is sitting in the attitude which has just been described. In another it is walking, or rather staggering, along, with its head on one side, and its beak so closed that hardly a vestige of its enormous pouch can be seen. Another sketch shows the same bird as it appeared when angry with a companion, and scolding its foe in impotent rage; while another shows it basking in the sun, with its magnificent wings spread and shaking in the warm beams, and its pouch hanging in folds from its chin.
One of the most curious of these sketches shows the bird squatting on the ground, with its head drawn back as far as possible, and sunk so far among the feathers of the back and shoulders that only a portion of the head itself can be seen, while the long beak is hidden, except an inch or two of the end. In this attitude it might easily be mistaken at a little distance for an oval white stone.
The derivation of the Hebrew word kaath is a very curious one. It is taken from a verb signifying "to vomit," and this derivation has been explained in different ways.
The early writers, who were comparatively ignorant of natural history, thought that the Pelican lived chiefly on molluscs, and that, after digesting the animals, it rejected their shells, just as the owl and the hawk reject the bones, fur, and feathers of their prey. They thought that the Pelican was a bird of a hot temperament, and that the molluscs were quickly digested by the heat of the stomach: "conchas enim, calore ventris coctas, rursus evomit, ut testis rejectis, esculenta seligat."
At the present day, however, knowing as we do the habits of the Pelican, we find that, although the reasons just given are faulty, and that the Pelican lives essentially on fish, and not on molluscs, the derivation of the word is really a good one, and that those who gave the bird the name of Kaath, or the vomiter, were well acquainted with its habits.
The bird certainly does eat molluscs, but the principal part of its diet is composed of fish, which it catches dexterously by a sort of sidelong snatch of its enormous bill. The skin under the lower part of the beak is so modified that it can form, when distended, an enormous pouch, capable of holding a great quantity of fish, though, as long as it is not wanted, the pouch is so contracted into longitudinal folds as to be scarcely perceptible. When it has filled the pouch, it usually retires from the water, and flies to a retired spot, often many miles inland, where it can sit and digest at its ease the enormous meal which it has made.
As it often chooses its breeding-places in similar spots, far from the water, it has to carry the food with which it nourishes its young for many miles. For this purpose it is furnished, not only with the pouch which has been just mentioned, but with long, wide, and very powerful wings, often measuring from twelve to thirteen feet from tip to tip. No one, on looking at a Pelican as it waddles about or sits at rest, would imagine the gigantic dimensions of the wings, which seem, as the bird spreads them, to have almost as unlimited a power of expansion as the pouch.
In these two points the true Pelicans present a strong contrast to the cormorants, though birds closely allied. The cormorant has its home close by the sea, and therefore needs not to carry its food for any distance. Consequently, it needs no pouch, and has none. Neither does it require the great expanse of wing which is needful for the Pelican, that has to carry such a weight of fish through the air. Accordingly, the wings, though strong enough to enable the bird to carry for a short distance a single fish of somewhat large size, are comparatively short and closely feathered, and the flight of the cormorant possesses neither the grace nor the power which distinguishes that of the Pelican.
When the Pelican feeds its young, it does so by pressing its beak against its breast, so as to force out of it the enclosed fish. Now the tip of the beak is armed, like that of the cormorant, with a sharply-curved hook, only, in the case of the Pelican, the hook is of a bright scarlet colour, looking, when the bird presses the beak against the white feathers of the breast, like a large drop of blood. Hence arose the curious legend respecting the Pelican, which represented it as feeding its young with its own blood, and tearing open its breast with its hooked bill. We find that this legend is exemplified by the oft-recurring symbol of the "Pelican feeding its young" in ecclesiastical art, as an emblem of Divine love.
This is one of the many instances in which the inventive, poetical, inaccurate Oriental mind has seized some peculiarity of form, and based upon it a whole series of fabulous legends. As long as they restricted themselves to the appearance and habits of the animals with which they were familiarly acquainted, the old writers were curiously full, exact, and precise in their details. But as soon as they came to any creature of whose mode of life they were entirely or partially ignorant, they allowed their inventive faculties full scope, and put forward as zoological facts statements which were the mere creation of their own fancy. We have already seen several examples of this propensity, and shall find more as we proceed with the zoology of the Scriptures.
The fabulous legends of the Pelican are too numerous to be even mentioned, but there is one which deserves notice, because it is made the basis of an old Persian fable.
The writer of the legend evidently had some partial knowledge of the bird. He knew that it had a large pouch which could hold fish and water; that it had large and powerful wings; and that it was in the habit of flying far inland, either for the purpose of digesting its food or nourishing its young. Knowing that the Pelican is in the habit of choosing solitary spots in which it may bring up its young in safety, but not knowing the precise mode of its nesting, the writer in question has trusted to his imagination, and put forward his theories as facts.
Knowing that the bird dwells in "the wilderness," he has assumed that the wilderness in question is a sandy, arid desert, far from water, and consequently from vegetation. Such being the case, the nurture of the Pelican's young is evidently a difficult question. Being aquatic birds, the young must needs require water for drink and bathing, as well as fish for food; and, though a supply of both these necessaries could be brought in the ample pouches of the parents, they would be wasted unless some mode of storing were employed.
Accordingly, the parent birds were said to make their nest in a hollow tree, and to line it with clay, or to build it altogether of clay, so as to leave a deep basin. This basin the parent birds were said to use as a sort of store-pond, bringing home supplies of fish and water in their pouches, and pouring them into the pond. The wild beasts who lived in the desert were said to be acquainted with these nests, and to resort to them daily in order to quench their thirst, repaying their entertainers by protecting their homes.
In real fact, the Pelican mostly breeds near water, and is fond of selecting little rocky islands where it cannot be approached without danger. The nest is made on the ground, and is formed in a most inartificial manner of reeds and grass, the general mass of the nest being made of the reeds, and the lining being formed of grass. The eggs are white, of nearly the same shape at both ends, and are from two to five in number. On an average, however, each nest will contain about two eggs.
The parent birds are very energetic in defence of their eggs or young, and, according to Le Vaillant, when approached they are "like furious harpies let loose against us, and their cries rendered us almost deaf. They often flew so near us that they flapped their wings in our faces, and, though we fired our pieces repeatedly, we were not able to frighten them." When the well-known naturalist Sonnerat tried to drive a female Pelican from her nest, she appeared not to be frightened, but angry. She would not move from her nest, and when he tried to push her off, she struck at him with her long bill and uttered cries of rage.
In order to aid the bird in carrying the heavy weights with which it loads itself, the whole skeleton is permeated with air, and is exceedingly light. Beside this, the whole cellular system of the bird is honeycombed with air-cells, so that the bulk of the bird can be greatly increased, while its weight remains practically unaltered, and the Pelican becomes a sort of living balloon.
The habit of conveying its food inland before eating it is so characteristic of the Pelican that other birds take advantage of it. In some countries there is a large hawk which robs the Pelican, just as the bald-headed eagle of America robs the osprey. Knowing instinctively that when a Pelican is flying inland slowly and heavily and with a distended pouch it is carrying a supply of food to its home, the hawk dashes at it, and frightens it so that the poor bird opens its beak, and gives up to the assailant the fish which it was bearing homewards.
It is evident that the wings which are needed for supporting such weights, and which, as we have seen, exceed twelve feet in length from tip to tip, would be useless in the water, and would hinder rather than aid the bird if it attempted to dive as the close-winged cormorant does. Accordingly, we find that the Pelican is not a diver, and, instead of chasing its finny prey under water, after the manner of the cormorant, it contents itself with scooping up in its beak the fishes which come to the surface of the water. The very buoyancy of its body would prevent it from diving as does the cormorant, and, although it often plunges into the water so fairly as to be for a moment submerged, it almost immediately rises, and pursues its course on the surface of the water, and not beneath it. Like the cormorant, the Pelican can perch on trees, though it does not select such spots for its roosting-places, and prefers rocks to branches. In one case, however, when some young Pelicans had been captured and tied to a stake, their mother used to bring them food during the day, and at night was accustomed to roost in the branches of a tree above them.
One of the two passages to which allusion has already been made in which the word kaath has been wrongly translated, occurs in Isa. xxxiv. 10, 11: "From generation to generation it shall lie waste; none shall pass through it for ever and ever.
"But the cormorant [Pelican in margin] and the bittern shall possess it; the owl also and the raven shall dwell in it: and He shall stretch out upon it the line of confusion and the stones of emptiness."
These words form part of a prophecy concerning Idumæa or Edom, in which the desolation that is to come upon the land is painted in the most vivid colours. The streams are to be turned into pitch, and the dust into brimstone; thorns are to come up in the palaces, and nettles and brambles in the fortresses, and the land is to be washed with blood. And so great is to be the desolation of the land, that even the Pelican, which keeps itself far from the habitations of men, is to possess it.
A similar figure is employed by the prophet Zephaniah, when writing of the utter destruction of Nineveh, that "rejoicing city, that dwelt carelessly, that said in her heart, I am, and there is no more beside me." In chap. ii. ver. 13, 14, the prophet writes as follows: "He will stretch out His hand against the north, and destroy Assyria; and will make Nineveh a desolation, and dry like a wilderness.
"And flocks shall lie down in the midst of her, all the beasts of the nations; both the cormorant [Pelican] and bittern shall lodge in the upper lintels of it, their voices shall sing in the windows; desolation shall be in the threshold: for He shall overcome the cedar work."
In both these passages the Jewish Bible renders the word kaath as Pelican. For a further explanation of them the reader is referred to the article on the hedgehog.
It will be now seen that, accepting the Kaath to be the Pelican, the imagery of the scriptural writers is as accurate as it is forcible. Though under some circumstances a thoroughly social bird, it is yet fond of retiring to the most solitary spots in order to consume at peace the prey that it has captured; and, as it sits motionless and alone for hours, more like a white stone than, a bird, it may well be accepted as a type of solitude and desolation.
The colour of the common Pelican is white, with a very slight pinky tinge, which is most conspicuous in the breeding season. The feathers of the crest are yellow, and the quill feathers of the wings are jetty black, contrasting well with the white plumage of the body. The pouch is yellow, and the upper part of the beak bluish grey, with a red line running across the middle, and a bright red hook at the tip. This plumage belongs only to the adult bird, that of the young being ashen grey, and four or five years are required before the bird puts on its full beauty. There is no difference in the appearance of the sexes. The illustration on page 496 represents a fine old male Crested Pelican (Pelecanus cristatus). The general colour is greyish white, with a slight yellowish tint on the breast. The pouch is bright orange, and the crest is formed of curling feathers.
REPTILES
THE TORTOISE
Reptiles in general—Looseness of the term "creeping things"—The Tzab of the Scriptures, translated as Tortoise—Flesh and eggs of the Tortoise—Its slow movements—Hibernation dependent on temperature—The "Water-Tortoises—Their food and voracity—Their eggs—Their odour terrifying the horses—The Dhubb lizard and its legends—Its armed tail, and the use made of it—Its food, and localities which it prefers.
We now come to a different class of animated beings. We have already found that the sacred writers were very loose in their nomenclature of the mammalia and birds, and we may therefore expect to find that even greater uncertainty prevails with regard to the Reptiles. It is evident that the sacred writers classed together the "creeping things" of the earth, without troubling themselves about zoological accuracy, and that by them a lizard, a centipede, and a caterpillar would have been alike classed as belonging to the "creeping things." For example, we learn in Deut. xiv. 19 that "every creeping thing that flieth" is unclean. On referring to Levit. xi. 21, we find that the same prohibition is repeated, but with an addition that shows that the sacred writer is treating of insects under the head of "creeping things." "Yet these may ye eat of every flying creeping thing that goeth upon all four, which have legs above their feet, to leap withal upon the earth;
"Even these of them may ye eat; the locust after his kind, and the bald locust after his kind, and the beetle after his kind, and the grasshopper after his kind.
"But all other flying creeping things which have four feet shall be an abomination unto you."
As to the particular species signified by these different insects, the reader is referred to that portion of the work which treats of entomology; and it is sufficient to observe that in this passage the term "creeping things" is employed to designate insects.
If we pass to verse 42 of the same chapter, we find that among the "creeping things" the centipedes, millepedes, and very probably the caterpillars, are ranked. "Whatsoever hath more feet among all creeping things that creep upon the earth, them ye shall not eat, for they are an abomination.
"Ye shall not make yourselves [or, your souls] abominable with any creeping thing that creepeth, neither shall ye make yourselves unclean with them, that ye should be defiled thereby."
Again, in Ps. civ. 24, 25, different orders of animals are classed under the name of creeping things: "0 Lord, how manifold are Thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all: the earth is full of Thy riches.
"So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts." In this passage it is probable that the sacred writer classed together all the inhabitants of the sea that creep and that do not swim with fins, and that under this term are first comprised the marine turtles, and perhaps snakes. Indeed, from verses 10 and 11 of Levit. xi. it is almost certain that marine and aquatic reptiles are signified: "All that have not fins and scales in the seas and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of every living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you:
"They shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcases in abomination."
This prohibition also includes the whole of the molluscs, and the marine worms, or annelids.
We will take these creatures in their order, and begin with those which are classed as Reptiles by the zoologists of the present day, and which are distinguished by having a bony skeleton, breathing by means of lungs and not of gills, having a heart with two auricles and one ventricle, and the skin being covered with horny plates or scales. The first in order are those which are covered with plates, and which are known as the Chelarians, including the Tortoises and Turtles.
In Levit. xi. 29, there occurs among the list of unclean beasts a word which is translated in the Authorized Version as "tortoise." The word is Tzab, and is rendered in the Hebrew Bible as "lizard," but with the mark of doubt affixed to it. As the correct translation of the word is very dubious, we shall examine it in both these senses.
THE DHUBB AND TORTOISE.
"These also shall be unclean unto you among the creeping things that creep upon the earth; the weasel, and the mouse, and the tortoise after his kind."—Levit. xi. 29.
The common Tortoise (Testudo Græca) is very common in Palestine, and is so plentiful that it would certainly have been used by the Israelites as food, had it not been prohibited by law. At the present day it is cooked and eaten by the inhabitants of the country who are not Jews, and its eggs are in as great request as those of the fowl.
These eggs are hard, nearly spherical, thick-shelled, and covered with minute punctures, giving them a roughness like that of a file. In captivity the Tortoise is very careless about the mode in which they are deposited, and I have seen a large yard almost covered with eggs laid by Tortoises and abandoned. The white or albumen of the egg is so stiff and gelatinous that to empty one of them without breaking the shell is a difficult task, and the yolk is very dark, and covered with minute spots of black. When fresh the eggs are as good as those of the fowl, and many persons even think them better; the only drawback being that their small size and thick shell cause considerable trouble in eating them.
The flesh of the Tortoise is eaten, not only by human beings, but by birds, such as the lämmergeier. In order to get at the flesh of the Tortoise, they carry it high in the air and drop it on the ground so as to break the shell to pieces, should the reptile fall on a stone or rock. If, as is not often the case in such a rocky land as that of Palestine, it should fall on a soft spot, the bird picks it up, soars aloft, and drops it again.
The Tortoises have no teeth, but yet are able to crop the herbage with perfect ease. In lieu of teeth the edges of the jaws are sharp-edged and very hard, so that they cut anything that comes between them like a pair of shears. Leaves that are pulpy and crisp are bitten through at once, but those that are thin, tough, and fibrous are rather torn than bitten, the Tortoise placing its feet upon them, and dragging them to pieces with its jaws. The carnivorous Tortoises have a similar habit, as we shall presently see.
This is the species from whose deliberate and slow movements the familiar metaphor of "slow as a Tortoise" was derived, and it is this species which is the hero of the popular fable of the "Hare and the Tortoise." Many of the reptiles are very slow in some things and astonishingly quick in others. Some of the lizards, for example, will at one time remain motionless for many hours together, or creep about with a slow and snail-like progress, while at others they dart from spot to spot with such rapidity that the eye can scarcely follow their movements. This however is not the case with the Tortoise, which is always slow, and, but for the defensive armour in which it is encased, would long ago have been extirpated.
During the whole of the summer months it may be seen crawling deliberately among the herbage, eating in the same deliberate style which characterises all its movements, and occasionally resting in the same spot for many hours together, apparently enjoying the warm beams of the sunshine.
As winter approaches, it slowly scrapes a deep hole in the ground, and buries itself until the following spring awakes it once more to active life. The depth of its burrow depends on the severity of the winter, for, as the cold increases, the Tortoise sinks itself more deeply into the earth.
Mention has been made of a species of Tortoise that inhabits the water. This is the Caspian Emys (Emys caspica), a small species, measuring about six inches in length. It belongs to the large family of the Terrapins, several of which are so well known in America, and has a long, retractile neck, very sharp jaws, and webbed feet, and a well-developed tail.
The body is flattish, and the colour is olive, with lines of yellow edged with black, and the head is marked with longitudinal streaks of bright yellow. After the death of the creature these yellow streaks fade away gradually, and at last become nearly black. The skin of the head is thin, but very hard. In general appearance it is not unlike the chicken Tortoise of America, a species which is often brought to England and kept in captivity, on account of its hardy nature and the little trouble which is needed for keeping it in health.
I have kept specimens of the Caspian Emys for some time, and found them to be more interesting animals than they at first promised to be. They were active, swimming with considerable speed, and snatching quickly at anything which they fancied might be food.
They were exceedingly voracious, consuming daily a quantity of meat apparently disproportioned to their size, and eating it in a manner that strongly reminded me of the mole when engaged on a piece of meat or the body of a bird or mouse. The Tortoise would plant its fore-paws firmly at each side of the meat, seize a mouthful in its jaws, and, by retracting its head violently, would tear away the piece which it had grasped.
They are most destructive among fish, and are apt to rise quietly underneath a fish as it basks near the surface of the water, grasp it beneath with its sharp-edged jaws, and tear away the piece, leaving the fish to die. It is rather remarkable that the Lepidosiren, or mud-fish of the Gambia, destroys fish in a precisely similar manner, though, as its jaws are much sharper than those of the Emys, it does not need the aid of fore-paws in biting out its mouthful of flesh.
Like the land Tortoise, it is one of the hibernators, and during the winter months buries itself deeply in the earth, choosing for this purpose the soft, muddy bed or bank of the pond in which it lives. Its eggs are white, and hard-shelled, but are more oval than those of the land Tortoise, and both ends are nearly alike. In fact, its egg might well be mistaken for that of a small pigeon. The shell has a porcelain-like look, and is very liable to crack, so that the resemblance is increased.
There is one drawback to these reptiles when kept as pets. They give out a very unpleasant odour, which is disagreeable to human nostrils, but is absolutely terrifying to many animals. The monkey tribe have the strongest objection to these aquatic Tortoises. I once held one of them towards a very tame chimpanzee, much to his discomfiture. He muttered and remonstrated, and retreated as far as he could, pushing out his lips in a funnel-like form, and showing his repugnance to the reptile in a manner that could not be mistaken.
Horses seem to be driven almost frantic with terror, not only by the sight, but by the odour of these Tortoises. In Southern Africa there are Tortoises closely allied to the Caspian Emys, and having the same power of frightening horses. In "Land and Water" for February 22d, 1869, there is an account of an adventure with one of those Tortoises, called in the catalogue of the British Museum the Reddish Pelamedusa. It is of an olive colour, and, when adult, there is a slight depression on either side of the vertebral line.
"Some very awkward accidents have occurred to parties from the terror caused by the fresh-water turtle (Pelamedusa subrufa). Carts have been smashed to fragments, riders thrown, and the utmost confusion caused by them. It is their smell, and it is certainly very disagreeable.
"My first acquaintance with the fact was in this wise. I was out shooting with two young ladies who had volunteered as markers; and, as you know, all our shooting is done from horseback. I had jumped off for a shot at some francolins near a knill, or water-hole, and, after picking up my birds, was coming round the knill to windward of the horses. In my path scrambled a turtle. I called out to my young friends, and told them of my find, on which one of them, in a hasty voice, said, 'Oh, please, Mr. L., don't touch it; you will frighten the horses!'
"Of course I laughed at the idea, and picked up the reptile, which instantly emitted its pungent odour—its means of defence. Though a long way off, the moment the horses caught the scent, away they flew, showing terror in every action. The girls, luckily splendid riders, tugged in vain at the reins; away they went over the Veldt, leaving me in mortal fear that the yawning 'aard-vark' holes (Orycteropus capensis) would break their necks. My own horse, which I had hitched to a bush, tore away his bridle, and with the ends streaming in the wind and the stirrups clashing about him, sped off home at full gallop, and was only recovered after a severe chase by my gallant young Amazons, who, after a race of some miles, succeeded in checking their affrighted steeds and in securing my runaway. But for some hours after, if I ventured to windward, there were wild-looking eyes and cocked ears—the smell of the reptile clung to me."
Should any of my readers keep any of those water Tortoises, they will do well to supply them plentifully with food, to give them an elevated rocky perch on which they can scramble, and on which they will sit for hours so motionless that at a little distance they can scarcely be distinguished from the stone on which they rest. They should also be weighed at regular intervals, as decrease of weight is a sure sign that something is wrong, and, as a general rule, is an almost certain precursor of death.
This little reptile is not without its legends. According to the old writers on natural history, it is of exceeding use to vine-growers in the season when there is excess of rain or hail. Whenever the owner of a vineyard sees a black cloud approaching, all he has to do is, to take one of these Tortoises, lay it on its back, and carry it round the vineyard. He must then go into the middle of the ground and lay the reptile on the earth, still on its back; and the effect of this proceeding would be that the cloud would pass aside from a place so well protected.
"But," proceeds the narrator, not wishing to be responsible for the statement, "such diabolical and foolish observations were not so muche to be remembered in this place, were it not for their sillinesse, that by knowing them men might learn the weaknesse of human wisdom when it erreth from the fountain of all science and true knowledge (which is Divinity), and the most approved assertions of nature. And so I will say no more in this place of the sweet-water tortoise."