Birds and Nature Vol. 10 No. 5 [December 1901]

The Brazilian Topazes come mostly from the Province of Minas Geraes, the province which also yields diamonds, beryls and many other precious stones. While those of greenish and bluish shades are found mostly in the form of rolled pebbles the yellow Brazilian Topaz is found in the mother rock. This is a decomposed itacolumite of a white or yellow color. The Russian Topazes, like that shown in the plate, come from the Imperial mines in the Urals. Alabashka, near Mursinka, is one of the most productive localities. The crystals occur in cavities in granite and are accompanied by crystals of smoky quartz, feldspar and mica. Superb gems are cut from these Topazes, a fine series of which is possessed by the Field Columbian Museum. The mines are operated by the Russian Government and the finest specimens are reserved for the Imperial Cabinet.

In the southern Urals, in the gold washings of the River Sanarka, yellow Topazes are found closely resembling those of Brazil. Associated with them are amethysts, rubies, chrysoberyls and many other precious stones. Topaz crystals of good size and color are found quite abundantly in Japan, although they have not yet been cut for gems to any extent. There are many localities in the United States where Topaz occurs, and it is often of gem quality. The group shown in the plate illustrates its occurrence at Thomas Mountain, Utah, a locality forty miles north of Sevier Lake. The crystals are found in cavities in the rock. They are never very large, but are usually clear and bright. They occur in somewhat similar fashion at Nathrop, Colorado. In the Eastern States Topaz was first found at Trumbull, Conn. It is here quite opaque and not suitable for gem purposes. Good gem Topaz has been found at Huntington and Middletown, Conn., however, and especially at Stoneham, Maine. In these localities it occurs in granite.

Of other stones which are sold under the name of Topaz the most common is the so-called Spanish or Saxon topaz. This is simply smoky quartz heated until it turns a yellow color. It can easily be distinguished from true Topaz by the properties above given.

At the present time it is also quite the common practice to vend ordinary colorless quartz under the name of Topaz. These practices are harmful to the reputation of true Topaz, as these forms of quartz are common and cheap and lack many of the desirable qualities of that stone. There is also a so-called Oriental Topaz which is a yellow form of corundum. It is heavier and harder than true Topaz, but its color and luster are not generally considered as desirable as those of that mineral. About forty years ago Topaz was quite popular as a gem and commanded three or four times its present price. At the present not more than two dollars a carat is often paid for the stone.

Topaz is often referred to by ancient writers and is mentioned in the Bible as one of the stones to be put in the ephod of the high priest; also as one of the gems worn by the King of Tyre and as forming one of the gates of the Holy City. Curiously enough, the gem referred to in these instances was the modern chrysolite, while where chrysolite is spoken of our Topaz is usually meant.

A Topaz presented by Lady Hildegarde, wife of Theodoric, Count of Holland, to a monastery in her native town, emitted at night, according to legend, a light so brilliant that in the chapel where it was kept prayers could be read at night without the aid of a light; a statement which might well be true if the monks knew the prayers by heart.

The spiritual qualities associated with Topaz are fruitfulness and faithfulness. It is also said to confer cheerfulness upon its wearer. The ancients believed that it calmed the passions and prevented bad dreams; that it discovered poison by becoming obscured when in contact with it; that it quenched the heat of boiling water, and that its powers increased and decreased with the increase and decrease of the moon. Also a Topaz held in the hand of a woman at childbirth was believed to lessen suffering. Lastly, a Topaz is the gem of the month of November:

“Who first comes to this world belowWith drear November’s fog and snowShould prize the topaz’s amber hue,Emblem of friends and lovers true.”Oliver Cummings Farrington.

THE BIRTH OF THE HUMMINGBIRD

It was born in a valley of violetsWhere bird and flower for its favor vied,Its father a poppy gone stark mad,Its mother a reckless honey bee,(True child of such startling pedigree)Its cradle a sunbeam glorified.It was bathed in a dewdrop morn by mornAnd when the time for the christening came,The font was filled with a jeweled flame;Glitter of gems dissolved in mist,White of diamond, its changing light,Ruby, emerald, amethyst,And its christening robe was encrusted quite.Nelly Hart Woodworth.

THE ROSE TANAGER.

(Pyranga aestiva.)

“Oh, if it might be that the rosesBe winged, and flying to thee,Could bear thee a thousand greetings, —Thou knowing they came from me!And if song might be given the roses,When I sped them in token to thee,They should warble my song to thee softly —Thou thinking the while on me!”– From the German of Abingulf Wegener.The brilliant Rose Tanager,“Encircled with poetic atmosphere,As lark emballed by its own crystal song.”

might be the fulfillment of the poet’s roseate dream, and the message that he bears a vocal incense from the flower’s glowing heart.

But if the burden of the one-half of the tanager duet is “my love is like a red, red rose,” the other half probably completes the flowery simile, with the proud refrain, “my love is like a green, green leaf,” and when the time of the bloom of the rose is past and the rosy plumes, like petals, fall away, he stands revealed an olive calyx, attended as the season wanes by an assemblage of belated olivaceous buds, whose song and carmine tints are folded away to await the summons of the next year’s sun.

And when they return to us again in the full flower of their beauty from their southern home, gorgeous as if stained in the dyes of the tropic sun, their song is said to be suffused with color like the mellow tones of the rose-breasted grosbeak and oriole.

This song Nuttall describes as a strong and sonorous whistle like that of the Baltimore bird, “resembling the trill or musical shake on the fife, and is frequently repeated; while that of the female is chattering and is chiefly uttered in alarm when any person approaches the vicinity of the nest. From the similarity of her color to the foliage of the trees, she is rarely seen and is usually mute, while the loquacity and brilliancy of the male, as he flies timidly and wildly through the branches, render him a most distinguished and beautiful object.”

Audubon pronounced the usual note of this bird as unmusical, resembling the sounds “chicky-chucky-chuck,” which is not, indeed, suggestive of poetic inspiration on the part of this “poet-prophet of the spring,” but the same author states that during the spring he sings pleasantly for nearly half an hour in succession, and that the song resembles that of the red-eyed vireo, his notes being sweeter and more varied and nearly equal to those of the orchard oriole.

Mr. Ridgway describes the song as somewhat after the style of the robin, but in a firmer tone and more continued, and, as compared with that of the scarlet tanager, with which he is often confounded, it is more vigorous and delivered in a manner less faltering. He describes the note of anxiety as a peculiar “pa-chip-it-tut-tut-tut,” very different from the weaker cry of Pyranga rubra.

Mr. Chapman says the summer tanager may be easily identified, not alone by its color, but by its unique call note, a clearly enunciated “chicky-tucky-tuck.” Its song bears a general resemblance to that of the scarlet, but to some ears is much sweeter, better sustained and more musical. According to some authorities it equals the robin’s in strength, but is uttered more hurriedly, is more “wiry” and much more continued.

Of the bird of Eastern North America Mr. Maynard says: “When the cold north winds cease to blow and the air in the piny woods is redolent with the perfume of the sundew, creeping mimosa and other delicate plants, which only bloom late in the spring, the voices of the summer tanagers are heard in the tops of the highest trees, when their songs are full of wild melody in perfect keeping with their surroundings. * * * So closely do they conceal themselves in the thick foliage that were it not for the loud song notes, which are constantly repeated, it would be difficult to discover them.”

From one of its habits the Rose Tanager is known to farmers as the red bee bird, and, although a bird of day, its taste for nocturnal beetles often leads it to the pursuit of its prey until the shades of evening have darkened into night, when, with the light of its plumes extinguished, as it were, with the setting sun, it proceeds silently and invisibly upon its gustatorial mission.

But it is credible that it is only when he is in his colorless nocturnal disguise that the prosaic beetle is permitted to refresh this Avian bloom, and that when the god of day has transformed the voiceless shade of night into the winged and musical rose of ornithology for his life’s sustenance, the same moment witnesses the miracle of the “dewdrops the sunrise has reddened to wine,” and that to his inspiration is poured Aurora’s rosy libation, the enchanted

“Wine that Morning spillsUpon the heaven-kissing hills.”Juliette A. Owen.

THE ERMINE

The Ermine is an aristocratic branch of the weasel family. His coat of pure or creamy white is the envy of kings, nobles and judges, whose robes of state or office etiquette prescribes shall be lined or faced with this matchless fur. A narrow band of the same is turned up around the crimson velvet cap worn beneath the British monarch’s crown and the coronets of peers.

At the coronation of King Edward and Queen Alexandra, which is to succeed the period of mourning for the late queen, the royal regalia will be brought into requisition, and in all its magnificent makeup not the least feature will be the priceless ermine trimming, costing the life of many a luckless animal. In view, therefore, of his constant exposure to martyrdom the price the Ermine pays for his social distinction is dear enough and should excite in his humbler cousins, even were they disposed to be sensitive on the point of birth, more of pity than of jealousy.

He dresses in perfection, however, only in winter, and that of the coldest regions, where the exceeding whiteness of his covering serves the two-fold purpose of retaining heat and concealing his presence on the universal carpet of snow, both from the enemies seeking his life and from the prey on which he subsists.

For a summer outing suit nature provides him an unconventional dress of light reddish brown varied with a stomacher of tawny white. With the doffing of his regal attire he also lays aside the distinguished title of Ermine and becomes plain Mr. Stoat.

This species of the weasel is found throughout Great Britain and in most parts of continental Europe, but except in northern Scotland, Scandinavia, and Russia the winters are neither sufficiently long nor cold to produce a complete change of color and he is left with a funny piebald coat which no one covets. The skins that supply the markets of the world all come from the arctic countries of the three northern continents, Europe, Asia and North America. A permanent feature of the Ermine’s coat is the glossy black tail tip, which in the preparation of the fur is inserted at regular intervals on the white, where the sharp contrast gives a most pleasing effect.

An utter abhorrence of uncleanness is a characteristic instinct of his lordship, and impels him to suffer capture or death rather than become soiled or bedraggled. This sentiment of purity is figuratively transferred to the fur whose use on the garments of rulers and judges symbolizes the purity of justice and law.

Determination and perseverance are qualities displayed in the pursuit of game for food, consisting of small herbivorous animals, birds, and eggs. In length the Ermine’s body is about ten inches; the tail, four inches; the legs are short, bearing the slender body with a creeping snake-like motion.

M. A. Hoyt.

THE RHESUS MONKEY

(Macacus rhesus.)

It was in Simla that we first encountered the Rhesus Monkey. We had gone up to Simla to escape the intense heat of Bombay, and, refreshed by the cool air of the “hill country,” we were soon ready to make the expedition to the hill called Jako. This hill is indeed the hill of the monkeys. It is eight or nine thousand feet above the level of the sea, and here lives a fakir, who feeds the monkeys as they troop down the mountainside at his call.

Undoubtedly there is no more mischievous monkey than the Rhesus, but, after all, he is not altogether to blame, for the blame may belong to the Hindoos. Some tell us that the Rhesus Monkey is sacred; others think not. But, however that may be, it is a fact that the Hindoos protect the monkeys in every possible way, willingly sharing their food with the bands which are found almost everywhere, and permitting no one to kill them.

This fosters every mischievous trait in these monkeys, and they fear nothing from man. They will devastate every plantation and garden near them. They belong to that genus of the ape family called Macaque, and as this variety, with their near relations, the other macaques, are found all over Southeastern Asia, besides one branch in Western Africa, one can readily see that their mischievousness becomes a serious drawback.

The natives of Baka are said to leave one-tenth of their harvests in heaps for the monkeys, which come down in great numbers and carry away all that is left for them. And this they can readily do on account of their well-developed cheek pouches. These pockets in the cheeks are assuredly most convenient, but are never found on American monkeys. The Old World monkeys are the narrow-nosed variety, while the American monkeys have the broad nose bone.

Our Rhesus Monkeys had, of course, the narrow nose bone. They averaged about twenty inches long, and the tail was half as long. Like all the macaque monkeys, they were of sturdy build, with legs of moderate length. In color the fur was grayish or greenish on the upper part, yellowish over the hips and white below. The tail was greenish above and gray under. The face, ears and hands were of a light copper color.

The mother monkeys were most assiduous in the care of their young, but in educating them one of the most important lessons was to teach them to steal successfully. This the pupils learned with ease, and to find a Rhesus Monkey which could not steal would be a curiosity indeed.

While in Simla we were told the oft-repeated story of Lady Barker’s dinner. Lady Barker, desiring to give a dinner to a large number of guests, took unusual pains in the preparation of the feast. With her own hands she arranged the flowers, and in the most attractive manner were placed upon the table all the delicacies possible to procure, far and near. When everything was arranged to her entire satisfaction, she retired to array herself for the reception of her guests. The servants were left in charge of the rooms, but instead of watching the tables, they deserted their posts to amuse themselves in a more congenial way. Imagine the surprise and consternation when, upon descending to the dining room, she found it filled with guests, but not those whom she had invited. A large band of monkeys had entered through the windows and were enjoying themselves without restraint. Poor Lady Barker had nothing left to offer her invited guests but the spoiled remains of her sumptuous feast. Her little lap-dog “Fury” met with an untimely death by the hands of probably this same band of monkeys. The dog waged war on the creatures at every opportunity, but one day a large monkey managed to catch him and carry him along to its tree-top. There the dog was tormented by all the monkeys, being passed from hand to hand and finally thrown down a precipice.

While the Rhesus is an intelligent creature and easily taught while young, it it a question whether one really wishes this monkey for a pet, for when old, they become vicious and spiteful and can bite and scratch in a dangerous manner.

In addition to the fruit and seeds which they eat, they are also fond of insects and spiders, and frequently large parties may be seen searching the ground for these delicacies.

Professor Ball relates an interesting anecdote of these monkeys. He said that when at Malwa Tal, a lake where he spent a day, he was warned that when passing under a certain landslip which slopes to the lake, he would be liable to have stones thrown at him by the monkeys. As he thought this might be only a traveler’s tale, he took pains to go to the spot in order to see what had given rise to the story. As he approached the base of the landslip, he saw a number of Rhesus monkeys rush to the sides and across the top, and presently pieces of loosened stone and shale came tumbling down where he stood. He soon satisfied himself that this was not accidental, for he distinctly saw one monkey, industriously with both forepaws, push the loose shingle off a shoulder of rock. He then tried the effect of throwing stones at them, but this made them quite angry and the amount of fragments which they set rolling was speedily doubled. This adventure caused Professor Ball to believe that there may be some truth in the stories related in regard to monkeys throwing fruit at people from the tree tops, and yet even about monkeys it is not always best to credit all one hears.

John Ainslie.

AN ANIMAL TORPEDO

The gymnotus, or electric eel, is a common denizen of the stagnant pools and sluggish lagoons of the Llanos of Venezuela. It is known to the natives under the more suggestive name of arimna or something that deprives of motion.

Our first experience with this curious Animal Torpedo was on the borders of the Llanos, a few days’ journey to the south of Valencia. The pack mules, usually very slow, had preceded us, during the noon hour, while we had leisurely taken luncheon. In the course of an hour, we caught up with them, as they had reached a sluggish estuary of a neighboring river. Before we were in hailing distance, we could see, from the wild and frantic gesticulations of the muleteer, that something unusual had occurred. It proved to be an attack of electric eels upon the first mule, which had attempted to ford the lagoon. The animal had nearly reached the opposite shore before the attack was made, and thus, the first mule had escaped with only a few shocks from the invisible torpedoes. The other pack mules, just entering the stream, were turned upon savagely by the concealed serpents, and were wildly and frantically turning back, when we came upon the scene. Their distended nostrils and bulging, terrified eyes, with excited snorting and plunging, would have made a perfect picture of agonized terror. Their suffering, fortunately, was of short duration, as they soon gained the shore and dashed away madly over the prairie. The first mule, which had crossed, terrified by the electric shocks received, had retreated from the lagoon and, in a state of great fright, had plunged into a browsing herd of cattle, dangling its swaying pack and causing a frightened stampede among the half-wild herd. The latter, ignorant of the immediate peril, rushed toward the lagoon ford, and, if those in front hesitated, they were persistently prodded by those from behind. In a moment all were in the midst of their dreaded enemies in the water. A scene followed which is hard to describe. The poor brutes reared, bellowed and moaned; they gored each other in their agony, while their startled eyes seemed ready to jump from their sockets.

As the herd was numerous, the greater portion soon struggled out, and, with tails reared high in the air, they plunged, like maddened demons, across the prairie. Three cows and a heifer remained in the pool with the eels. The former, much exhausted, finally escaped from their tormentors, but the heifer, unable to withstand the repeated attacks, made one last effort, and, with a gasp, sank below the surface.

We spent some time in collecting our terrified pack mules and scattered baggage, finally crossing the bayou at a shallow point some distance above the ford. In the meantime, one of the mozos speared one of the eels, as they had become very sluggish and were swimming aimlessly about the surface, after having spent so much of their galvanic force. The captured specimen was about two and a half feet in length and would weigh about eight pounds. It had an olive green color and the upper part of the head was mingled with red. Two rows of yellow spots are placed symmetrically along the back, each spot containing an execretary aperture, which were its galvanic batteries. It possessed an enormous swimming bladder, which accounts for its great agility and swiftness in the water. The creature looks more like a fish than an eel, and is very difficult to capture in nets, owing to its agility and a habit of burying itself in the mud when frightened. The electric action of the eel depends entirely upon its own will and a shock can be given whether it is touched by one or both hands to complete the circuit. When wounded, their power is almost destroyed and they are able to give only feeble shocks. Humboldt describes putting both feet upon a newly-captured specimen, which rendered him entirely powerless for a considerable time. The shock was so great that he suffered all day from pains in his knee and back.

Though caught easily with a harpoon, the natives have such an intense dread of them that it is difficult for naturalists to secure specimens. The peons have an idea that one can escape the shock, while going through waters infested by the eels, if he carries a chew of tobacco in his mouth. This supposed influence of tobacco upon animal electricity is not entirely without some scientific basis, but in the form of a quid in the mouth it is, of course, purely imagination.

It is not an uncommon thing for a large colony of these eels, to attack and drown a horse in mid-stream, which they will leisurely devour afterwards. It is recorded that, during the patriot wars in Venezuela, a large army marching through the Llanos was seriously disabled in crossing a bayou infested with these mischievous creatures. At Damarara, British Guiana, in the early days, these eels were employed by the medical fraternity, to cure paralytic troubles, just as the torpedo fish was employed by the ancient Greeks.

Andrew James Miller.

THE CAMEL

We were on the road to Biskra, the “Queen of the Desert.” Sand, sand everywhere, as we looked across the dreary spaces as far as the eye could reach. Frequently the monotony was relieved by the long lines of caravans passing to and fro; they were picturesque and poetical; they moved with stately motion and graceful swing across the background of never-ending and often shifting sand.

Had this been our only experience with the Camels which compose the caravans, we would have returned with glowing accounts and waxed eloquent over these beasts of burden. We would have assured our friends of their patience and fortitude and with growing enthusiasm described the showy trappings and effective poses which charmed us on the desert road. But alas! We came to know the Camel well at close range and truly “familiarity breeds contempt.”

The Camels about Biskra were the long-legged variety commonly called Dromedaries. They had but one hump and averaged from about six and one-half to seven and one-half feet in height; and from muzzle to tip of tail they measured ten or eleven feet. While the majority were of a light sandy color, it was not impossible to find a white, grey, brown or even black Camel, but a black Camel was held in great contempt by the Arabs. The hair was irregular in length and almost woolly in places. The callouses, large and prominent, were found on the breast and joints of the legs, making cushions for the beast to rest upon when lying down or kneeling. These callous places, scarcely showing at birth, grow with advancing age.

It is true that these animals, ungainly and uncouth at near view, are indispensable to the Arab of the desert; but all their generations of domestic life have failed to cultivate in their stupid minds any affection or care for their masters. Their obedience is passive and their apparent patience only stupidity, for they are unamiable, obstinate and disagreeable.