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Posted in Animals, Australia, Birds, Nature, Wildlife on Monday, 20 May 2013
This edited article about bower birds originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 259 published on 31 December 1966.
The Regent bower bird of East Australia with the flotsam and jetsam it has assembled for the bower
We are often told that the bower bird of Australia builds a remarkable bower and decorates it with coloured odds and ends, such as feathers, shells and small bones. This story is often told as if there were only one bower bird and only one way of building the bower. In fact, there are many different kinds of bower birds not only in Australia but also in New Guinea, and those in New Guinea build even more elaborate bowers.
The ordinary bower that we read about is built by the cock bower bird in the following manner. He collects together a large number of twigs and arranges them in a platform on the ground several feet long by about two feet wide. He then collects other twigs and the end of each of these is pushed into the platform so that there is finally a double row of vertical sticks with an avenue in between.
The bower birds that build in this way have been called avenue-builders. When the bower has been completed, the bird then collects all kinds of odds and ends and lays them around the bower especially at the entrance to the avenue. After this he leads the hen over to his bower and, while she stands outside, he runs up and down the avenue displaying his beautiful feathers to her. The bower is in no sense a nest. The female, who is much more sombrely coloured than the male, builds her nest in a tree away from the bower.
The bower birds that build a more elaborate bower are known as maypole-builders. In this case, the male selects a small sapling in a clearing in a forest and collects a few twigs and lays them around the base of the sapling. He collects more twigs and lays these on top of the first twigs, until the sapling is clothed in a criss-cross of twigs to a height of two feet or more. At this stage the sapling now looks something like a maypole when the ribbons are criss-crossed round it. This, however, is only the start. More twigs are collected and these are now added in such a way that they form a kind of sloping roof coming down from the twigs around the sapling, and when this part is finished it looks like a tent composed of twigs. Perhaps it would be more correct to say it looks like half a tent with the tent-pole decorated with twigs.
We could even say that it looks like a kind of rough summer-house, and this resemblance is heightened by the further work carried out by the bower bird on each side of the half-tent, where the twigs rest on the ground. Here the bird builds a wall of twigs forming a half-circle in front of the tent. By this time the bower begins to look like a house made of twigs with a lawn in front of it surrounded by a hedge of twigs.
Posted in Ancient History, Historical articles, Nature, Plants on Tuesday, 14 May 2013
This edited article about mushrooms originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 254 published on 26 November 1966.
Red-capped toadstools are poisonous and hallucinogenic mushrooms
Did you ever see a knife made from golden amber? They say that Roman aristocrats used such knives to slice mushrooms to tell whether they were poisonous, as amber is supposed to be a detector of poisons.
In those days, mushrooms were viewed by everyone with the deepest suspicion and called ‘vehicles of death’.
One of the most notorious crimes in which mushrooms played a leading part was the murder of the Roman emperor Claudius, around the beginning of the Christian era. His empress, Agrippina, poisoned him with ‘mushrooms’ – undoubtedly toadstools – to secure the throne for her son, the infamous Nero.
Two other monarchs, Tiberius, of pagan Rome, and Charles VI of France, both accused the poor mushroom of attempting their murders.
The real reason, of course, that the mushroom got such a bad reputation lay in people’s complete ignorance that there were poisonous and non-poisonous varieties.
Pliny, an ancient Roman botanist, gives us the most fantastic theories about the plant. He wrote: “If they grow near a piece of rusty iron or rotten cloth, they will instantly absorb the flavour and transform it into poison.”
Serpents, he asserted, were another hazard. “Nothing is more deadly than a mushroom that grows near the hole of a serpent, or has even been breathed upon by one.” And he goes on to give rule after rule for deciding when serpents have retired to their holes, at which time it might be possible, he said, to enjoy a dish of mushrooms without coming to an untimely end.
Very little seems to be known about either the age or the origin of mushrooms. They were known in early Rome and have been cultivated in modern Europe since the 17th century. In Ireland, especially, the country people are always happy when they find mushrooms growing in their fields. They will tell you that when everyone is asleep, the Little People come out and dance across the turf.
“They leave the mushrooms behind,” they whisper, “because there are persons so stupid, they don’t believe in the Little People. As if you couldn’t see, with one eye closed, that it’s a fairy plant.”
It’s a lovely tale, and much like an older one told by Grecian mothers to their children about the Moon Goddess.
“She dances in the fields on spring nights,” they said, “when the wind blows from the west. Her slippers are silver clouds, studded with jagged pieces of broken star, which take root to mark the places where her feet have pressed.” In the morning, wherever her feet had touched, there would be a tiny white mushroom growing, exactly the shade of a soft, fleecy cloud.
We like to think of this fungus being a gift from the Moon Goddess, rather than to dwell too much on an emperor murdered for his throne, or Romans slicing mushrooms fearfully with their golden amber knives.
Posted in Ancient History, Historical articles, Nature, Plants, Religion on Monday, 13 May 2013
This edited article about vegetables originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 253 published on 19 November 1966.
Chick peas, the ancestors of our popular green peas, have been cultivated for well over 5,000 years. Old Egyptian tombs have yielded specimens that prove that they were known in that country as far back as 2400 B.C., although at the time of Herodotus (about 500 B.C.) the Egyptians regarded the vegetable as unclean. Possibly this arose from the shape of the unripe seed, which resembles a ram’s head. In India, the use of the chick pea goes back to a remote time, as shown by the Sanskrit name.
Many botanists believe that chick peas came originally from Western Asia, but as they no longer grow wild there, the point is difficult to prove. Others claim that their native home was northern India.
Chick peas were well known to the Romans for many centuries, but considered inferior to other vegetables. There was one variety of pea, however, historians tell us, so popular that politicians actually bought votes with them and during entertainments, vendors went around selling them, as we sell candy or soft drinks. We are sure that this must have been our present green pea, as, unlike the chick pea, it is sweet.
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Posted in Animals, Birds, Nature, Wildlife on Friday, 10 May 2013
This edited article about animals originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 249 published on 22 October 1966.
The bittern among reeds as the moon rises
‘Attack is the best form of defence’. If animals knew this, it would make a lot of difference. Small birds often fare badly at the paws of a cat, but sometimes a courageous bird, because it has eggs or young, will fly at a cat, calling vigorously, and may end by causing the cat to beat a hasty retreat.
The American mockingbird, a member of the thrush family, has been known to attack crows, hawks, snakes and cats which have ventured too close to its nest. An American woman reported seeing a cat approach close to a tree in which mockingbirds were nesting. Suddenly a bird plunged from its perch and dived at the cat, striking it behind the ears. It did this again and again, returning to a different perch each time and thus carrying on its dive-bombing tactics from various angles. The cat fled in terror. The bird returned triumphantly to its nest.
Many birds depend upon flying to get away from their enemies. However, there are some birds that do not fly, notably the ostrich which has only small wings, incapable of lifting its huge body. When an ostrich fears attack it will lower its head and push its tail up, remaining absolutely motionless so as to merge with the surrounding bushes and trees. If the attacker advances the ostrich relies on its powerful legs to carry it at great speed over the ground. Each leg has two toes, one bigger that the other and bearing a large claw. This is a formidable weapon when an ostrich lashes out at an enemy with its strong legs.
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Posted in Animals, Fish, Nature, Sea, Wildlife on Thursday, 9 May 2013
This edited article about marine animals originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 248 published on 15 October 1966.
Probably the commonest animals in the sea, after fishes, are those known as molluscs. The name itself is from the Latin and means ‘soft-bodied’.
The great majority of molluscs have this soft body enclosed in a shell as a protection. In some, the shell is in two parts and hinged; these are known as bivalves. Others have a spiral shell; these are the univalves, and are often called sea snails.
Not only does the shell of the sea snail protect the body of the animal that makes it, but when the mollusc itself dies, a hermit crab may make use of it. Unlike the more familiar crabs, only the front part of the body, as well as the claws and legs, of a hermit crab are armoured. The abdomen is soft, and to protect this the hermit crab takes over the shell of a dead sea snail and uses it as a ‘house’. It can do this without difficulty, because the hermit’s abdomen is twisted in a spiral that fits easily into the spiral of the shell.
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Posted in Ancient History, Historical articles, Magic, Medicine, Nature, Plants, Superstition on Thursday, 9 May 2013
This edited article about vegetables originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 248 published on 15 October 1966.
The Temple of Apollo where golden radishes were offered to the Greek god, by Ruggero Giovannini
Everyone knows that radishes are good to eat, but did you also know that they have the power to warn you if a witch should happen to be hiding in your chimney? We had never suspected it, until we read this sentence in an old English book: “a wild radish, uprooted with the proper incantations, has the power of revealing the whereabouts of witches.” Unfortunately, the author forgot to add “the proper incantations”. Very annoying, as we have always wanted to see a witch!
From another book, written about the same period, we learned that wearing a garland of flowering radish around one’s neck, would repel demons. Odd that the flowers should drive them away and a ripe radish tempt them out of their hiding places!
Although the radish has been cultivated for well over 4,000 years, its appearance has changed very little. Botanists do not agree on its native land. Some say China, while others insist on Western Asia as its birthplace.
They were cultivated in Egypt at the time of the earliest Pharaohs and esteemed highly because of the abundance of oil in the root. A variety of radish is cultivated today by the Egyptians for that very purpose.
Greece, however, gave radishes their highest honours. One Greek philosopher wrote an entire book about them and in their offerings to Apollo, the Greeks again demonstrated how highly the radish was regarded. It was their custom to present these gifts in the form of carvings, the metal chosen representing their ideas of the value of the plant. Turnips, for instance, were carved out of lead, beets from silver, but pure gold was chosen for the radish.
Few vegetables have had more extravagant claims made for their curative powers than this one. In fact, reading the long list, the radish seems to be able to cure almost every illness in life, the only drawback being that it was considered bad for the teeth. One physician wrote that you could handle poisonous serpents and scorpions safely, if you took the precaution of first rubbing your hands with radish juice, while another actually wrote that if you merely dipped a radish in a glass of poison, you could drink it and go happily away. We sincerely hope that none of his patients tried it.
A very charming legend about the radish has come down to us from Germany. The soul of the radish, so they said, was an evil spirit named Rubezahl, with a bad habit of taking what he wanted, regardless of other people’s rights. Rubezahl fell in love with a princess, kidnapped her and shut her away in a great tower, surrounded by miles of woods. The poor princess was very lonely and frightened and grew so thin and pale that Rubezahl worried for fear she would die. So he touched a radish with his magic wand and turned it into a cricket, first warning the princess that when the leaves of the radish began to wither, the cricket would die. The princess asked the cricket to find her lover and bring him to rescue her, so the cricket set out, chirping loudly as he hopped. Unfortunately, he could not find her lover before he died, but as he told every cricket he met and they told their friends, the story still lives. If you listen closely on a summer evening to the cricket’s song, you will hear all about the plight of the poor princess and the wicked radish, Rubezahl.
Posted in Animals, Nature, Wildlife on Thursday, 9 May 2013
This edited article about animals originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 247 published on 8 October 1966.
No animal is without enemies. Some have few, others have many, but all must be ready to defend themselves. They do this by one of two methods. They use either active defence, using whatever weapons they possess, or by passive defence, by some form of armour, or by deterring an enemy without ever striking a blow.
A dog or a wolf uses active defence when it flies at and bites its opponent. Its only weapons are its teeth, especially the long canine teeth, or fangs. But even these animals will avoid a fight if possible and try, in the first place, to put off an enemy by scaring it. If this is ignored they raise their hackles, bare their teeth and crouch ready for the spring. Their ears are laid back, out of harms way, the face is twisted into a scowl and the growl turns to a snarl. Only if these signals are ignored do they attack.
Although a skunk’s method of defence is very different, there is the same kind of warning. A skunk first stamps its feet, then it raises its tail and waves the tip up and down. These are signals to an enemy to go away before the skunk squirts a most obnoxious fluid from two glands under its tail. This fluid can be squirted a distance of 12 feet, can burn the skin or hair and can cause blindness if it goes into the eyes. Its odour last a long time and may spread over a radius of half-a-mile.
The skunk advertises its unpleasant qualities by its prominent white markings, and this has been called a warning coloration. Most poisonous or stinging animals carry a warning coloration. Usually the colours are black-and-yellow, black-and-red, all black or all red. The wasp is a familiar insect that is coloured black-and-yellow. Its defence is active: it stings. But several insects have a passive defence based on this, they are coloured black-and-yellow, and look like wasps. A young bird catches a wasp in its beak, is stung and thereafter leaves all wasps alone, as well as any insects that resemble them. Such insects are said to mimic wasps: and we speak of this as protective mimicry.
Perhaps the best forms of passive defence are seen in the armadillo and the tortoise. In both, the body is enclosed in a bony armour covered with horny plates. The tortoise’s shell is more like a fortress into which the animal withdraws. The armadillo has a flexible suit of armour. The hedgehog achieves the same end by carrying a coat of spines and rolling into a spiky ball when attacked.
Some caterpillars have coloured spots on their bodies that look like eyes. As long as the caterpillar is crawling normally, a bird may get ready to eat it. But if it draws in its head, thus expanding the ‘eyes’, the bird is scared and flies away.
Posted in Customs, Farming, Historical articles, History, Nature, Religion on Thursday, 9 May 2013
This edited article about the Church of England originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 247 published on 8 October 1966.
There will be very few churches or chapels throughout the country which have not kept a ‘Harvest Thanksgiving’ or ‘Harvest Festival’ during the past few weeks. This occasion is one of the most popular features of the Christian year, and attracts people who rarely come at any other time.
In its present form, the Harvest Thanksgiving dates back little more than a century, and is a very English custom. There were, of course, religious ceremonies connected with the gathering of crops in Old Testament times, and even in other religions of the ancient world. Partly to avoid some of the riotous drunkenness which often accompanied pagan feasts, the early Christians refused to take part in such celebrations.
In the Middle Ages, the custom gradually arose of offering a loaf of bread baked from the first ears of the year’s wheat crop at a Service on August 1st. The day was called ‘Lammas’ Day – a word probably meaning ‘loaf-mass’. After the Reformation, even this day was no longer observed in the Church of England, although it is now being revived here and there.
Instead, harvest celebrations became entirely a non-church matter. Every farmer held a ‘harvest home’ on his own farm. To celebrate a successful harvest (or perhaps to drown the memory of a poor one) a hearty feast was held in the farm kitchen. Much ale was drunk, and there was a good deal of horseplay, which occasionally led to quarrels. So the ‘harvest-home’ gained as bad a reputation as some of the pagan harvest festivals.
In the 1840′s, a number of country clergymen began to feel that it would be better to make ‘harvest home’ into a religious occasion, to keep it from getting out of hand.
The idea proved amazingly popular, even among people who kept few or none of the other festivals of the church’s year. Before the end of the 19th century, the decoration of churches and chapels with harvest produce was a well-established custom, and in addition to the Sunday services there was often another in mid-week, followed by a harvest supper on church premises. By contrast, the rollicking ‘harvest home’ of the farm kitchen almost died out.
Most of the popular hymns which are still sung on this day were written in the mid-19th century. Even in cities, the festival became well established, not least, perhaps, because it brought a welcome touch of the country into drab industrial areas.
And it is no doubt good that, in town or country, we should all remember with gratitude that, as one harvest hymn puts it,
‘All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above’
Posted in America, Animals, Birds, Nature, Wildlife on Wednesday, 8 May 2013
This edited article about humming birds originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 246 published on 1 October 1966.
Ruby-throated humming birds
Like an iridescent ‘will-o’-the-wisp’, the tiniest of the humming bird family, comparable in size to a bumble bee, hovers on wings beating so rapidly that the human eye sees only a coloured blur. It is the high frequency wingbeats that cause the humming sound to which they owe their name.
The Bee humming bird is only two inches long, half of which is bill and tail, and yet its wings beat 50 times per second as it pauses before a flower. Its slender beak is inserted into the corolla of the flower, and the long, very flexible tongue, shaped rather like a double tube, is extended to reach the nectar at the bottom.
Humming birds eat fruit juices, and any insects or spiders they find on the flowers, as well as nectar.
Their flying habits are really extraordinary, consisting of a series of rapid darts, varied by hovering and curious tumbling evolutions. They fly faster than any other birds and they can even fly backwards at speed. Their swift, darting flight enables them to catch insects on the wing, like their ancestral relations, the swifts.
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Posted in Animals, Birds, Nature, Wildlife on Tuesday, 7 May 2013
This edited article about animals originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 244 published on 17 September 1966.
Many animals make nests, either for resting or to lay eggs or give birth to young. Birds build nests only for laying their eggs. They sleep elsewhere, either perched in trees or on buildings, or squatting on the ground.
We do not usually associate the furred animals, or mammals, with making nests, yet most of them do, usually as sleeping quarters. Gorillas, for example, select a place in a tree and bend the smaller leafy branches in towards it to make a sleeping platform. They make a fresh nest each night.
Rodents, such as rats and mice, as well as squirrels, are particularly given to making nests. Squirrels make elaborate nests of twigs, known as dreys. These they line, usually with leaves. The pack rat of North America makes a house of twigs with four compartments and connecting passages.
It is interesting how the mammals transport their nesting material. A badger gathers bracken or grass and drags it over the ground, moving backwards. It is a laborious task, and the noise made as the bracken is dragged along can be plainly heard. Usually quite a lot is spilt along the way, especially when grasses are used. What with the track a badger wears in the ground as it walks to and fro, and the pieces of grass littering the track, it is easy to follow this nest-builder.
A grey squirrel is more skilful. You can sometimes watch it collecting dead leaves. It will pick up a leaf in its mouth, run over to another, lay the first leaf neatly on the second, then pick up both. By repeating this, it will finally have a bunch of half a dozen leaves in its mouth. Then it will run to a tree, climb rapidly up the trunk, disappear inside its drey and, a few seconds later, reappear empty-mouthed.
Apart from apes and monkeys, which use their hands, and badgers, which use their paws, there are remarkably few mammals that employ anything but their mouths for nest-building. Even small rodents, like the harvest mouse, which build woven nests of grass, do not use their paws as ‘hands’. To weave the walls of their nests, they thread the grass by pushing it through with the snout and pulling out the other side with their teeth.
The outstanding exception is found in some of the Australian animals. These, as everybody knows, are unlike the furred animals in other parts of the world. They are mainly pouched animals (marsupials), in which the females have a pouch on the abdomen for carrying their babies. The marsupials include kangaroos, wallabies and opossums. Because they have this pouch, they do not need a nest for their young, but many of the smaller marsupials make a nest for sleeping in, and they transport the materials needed to build it by wrapping the tail round a bundle of grass or leaves.
One opossum, known as the lesser-flying phalanger, which is two feet long, including its foot-long tail, spends its days sleeping in a hollow in a tree. At night it comes out to feed on blossoms. To reach these it launches itself into the air and glides from tree to tree, using a fold of skin on each flank as a parachute, and the tail as a balancer.
When building its nest, however, it climbs along a branch, hanging by its feet like a sloth. It picks off leaves for its nest with its teeth while hanging by its hind feet. It passes these with its front paws to its tail, which it wraps round them. Eventually the phalanger climbs back into its nest in the hollow tree, holding a bundle of leaves with its tail.