Chapter VII

As we notice these curious disguises in spiders, as well as in numbers of other living creatures, we are reminded of the old nursery tales and fables of the gift of invisibility supposed to be conferred by certain plants, or by certain charms or ceremonies. With these spiders, as well as in many other creatures, some lower, and others much higher, than them in organisation, this power of becoming at will unseen, even under the closest observation, is no fable, but a veritable fact. There is a curious habit which I have observed in several species of Malagasy spiders which is apparently also used for protection. If they are disturbed, or if their web is shaken, they immediately throw themselves into a state of violent vibration, so that the eye cannot follow them; and this rapid motion is continued for two or three minutes, until the supposed danger has passed away. It would seem as if this must be done to confuse a possible enemy intending to attack them.

[Sidenote: VENOMOUS SPIDERS]

Besides the red-spot spider, there is another kind called by the natives _Fòka_; this is rather common in gardens and is extremely like a small crab, with a lozenge-shaped abdomen; it is covered with tubercles, and its legs are roughened, like those of a crustacean. Its bite is followed by swelling, which spreads from the wounded part through the whole body. This dangerous spider’s bite is said to be often fatal. There is another spider, apparently a species of _Mygale_, called by the people _Tàrabìby_, found fifty to sixty miles west of the capital, whose bite is also said to be dangerous, if not actually fatal. It appears to be a trap-door species. Besides this one, another species of trap-door spider is also said to be found in Imèrina, but I have not seen a specimen myself; it is said to leave the door of its dwelling open.

The illustration given herewith will give a better idea than any mere description can of the strange shapes of many Madagascar spiders. The largest figure shows an _Epeira_ of extraordinary shape; it will be seen that the abdomen is like a set of three cones, fixed into one another and terminated by a sharpish point. A still more bizarre figure is presented by _Epeira mitralis_, as it crouches, fixed close to a branch or twig; whether viewed from the back or front or side, it is equally “uncanny” in its appearance. Then, again, the two _Gastera-canthæ_, with their bodies much broader than they are long, are very unlike our ordinary idea of a spider, while the formidable spikes with which they are armed would appear a very efficient protection from any insect-eating bird or beast. The rather diabolical-looking _Thomisus foka_, with its crab-like pincers, is much dreaded by the Malagasy, as giving a fatal bite, if speedy remedies are not applied. Happily, it is not very common.

[Sidenote: DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SPIDERS]

There is a considerable variety in the webs of Malagasy spiders. Here is one which may be seen by hundreds, filling up the space between the sharp-pointed leaves of the aloes. At first sight it appears only a tangled mass of web, but on closer examination we see that the groundwork is a geometrical web in the centre, but as it is stretched horizontally, and not vertically, it is cup-shaped. But from it, above and below, stretches a labyrinth of lines, like the crossing and recrossing of the lianas in the forest. In the centre of this maze of lines the owner of the structure lies in wait, a small spider, handsomely marked with black and white. Not far off a grey silken bag is hung, which contains the eggs, from which a swarm of little spiders will eventually proceed, not bigger than small ants.

A word or two may be added about a very common house spider which is abundant in Imèrina. This is a rather large species, light brown in colour, but its peculiarity is that it is extremely thin and flat—a case almost of extension without thickness, as it is hardly thicker than a piece of stout paper; and so it is enabled to wait for its prey hidden in narrow and almost imperceptible cracks. It is emphatically a hunting spider and makes apparently no nest or web, and it is amusing to see the adroit way in which it will cautiously approach the edge of a crack in a board and sweep off an unwary fly.

One more curious spider may be noticed here; this has a very small body, hardly larger than a big pin’s head, but it has extraordinarily long thread-like legs, covering a very wide area when compared with its minute body.

There must be still a large number of these Arachnidæ yet unknown to science, for they are very numerous in species in some localities. I remember spending an afternoon, many years ago, on a hill a few miles south of the capital, together with two or three friends, hunting spiders. We caught at least thirty different species among the bushes on the hill-top and slopes. Doubtless some of these are described and figured in one of the volumes of M. Grandidier’s great work on Madagascar, still in progress. But there are probably a much larger number of these creatures still awaiting the careful observations of anyone who will note their interesting habits and homes, and their very varied appearance and structure.

Pandanus (hòfa) trees]

I fancy my readers will now say, you have told us a good deal about the insects, and something about the reptiles and birds of the forest, but are there no four-footed animals in the Madagascar woods except the wild boar? Yes, there certainly are many such, for there are at least fifty species of quadrupeds already known in addition to the lemurs; but as they are, most of them, small—sixteen are species of rats and mice, and twenty-three are a kind of hedgehog, and therefore are burrowing animals—they are not at all conspicuous and must be sought for if we want to observe their habits; and the ten species of carnivora are also mostly small in size. Leaving for the present the carnivora and the rodentia, let me say here what can be said of interest about a group of small animals which are in habit and appearance much like the European hedgehogs, being of the same order (the insect-eaters), but belonging to a distinct family, the Centetidæ, which, except for one genus, are peculiar to Madagascar. Some of these animals have a covering of strong spines, while in other species this consists rather of firm prickly hairs, which, however, do not cover the whole of the body. The larger kinds, called _Tràndraka_ by the Malagasy, are used by them for food, and have very much the taste of pork. (I have eaten them once or twice, but they are rather rich and greasy.) They are found in the woods, but especially in the scattered brushwood in the vicinity of the forests; and we occasionally met with two or three varieties of these harmless creatures while rambling in the outskirts of the woods. Our dog often chased and attempted to worry them, but she usually came back with her mouth and nose stuck full of prickles and looking like a pincushion, and apparently very uncomfortable.

[Sidenote: THE TAIL-LESS TENREC]

The tail-less tenrec (_Centetes ecaudatus_) is the largest and best known of its family. Its manner of life is remarkable, for it passes half the year, the cold season, in a profound sleep, in a burrow which it excavates about May or June. The female is very prolific, bringing forth from twelve to twenty-two young ones, which are bravely defended by the mother against every enemy. Their food consists chiefly of earthworms, and also of roots, fruits and insects. They sleep almost constantly during the day, while they are very active during the night; and what has been here said of the _Tràndraka_ as to habits, food, etc., may be taken as representing what might be said of most of the Centetidæ. The striped tenrec is about the size of a mole, and is streaked with black and yellow, as are indeed the young of other species. The spiny tenrec is much like our European hedgehog, as it is covered with strong spines, and can roll itself up into a ball when attacked. Another species, called _Sòra_ by the natives, is about five inches long. A female of this kind was one day brought to us for sale, together with eight or nine tiny young ones only a few days old. These were prettily banded with yellow and brown stripes, their hair being still soft. They were about the size of a large egg, and a most curious little family of creatures they looked. The rice tenrec inhabits the plains between the two lines of forest, and does immense injury to the rice crops by burrowing into the earth and rooting up the young plants. Another species (and genus) is strikingly modified for aquatic life, having webbed toes, and a thick and powerful tail. The smallest species known is only two inches long, with a tail of three inches. Small as the animals of this family are, they are remarkable from the fact that in no equally confined area are they represented by so many peculiar types as in Madagascar. But it is still more remarkable that the only other known genus of Centetidæ is found in the West India Islands; two portions of the same family being separated from each other by an extensive continent as well as by a deep ocean.

Epeira Coquerelii

Gasteracantha madagas^{sis}

Epeira mitralis _back_ _side_ _front_

Gasteracantha formosa

Thomisus foka]

[Sidenote: LEMURS]

These sketches of the forest would be very incomplete without saying something about what are the most characteristic animals of Madagascar—viz. the lemurs; for though there are a few allied forms found in Africa on the one side, and in Southern Asia on the other, this island is _the_ home of Lemuroid animals. It was indeed proposed to call a supposed former continent in the Indian Ocean by the name of “Lemuria.” It must be said, however, that there are few of them to be seen in the neighbourhood of the sanatorium, although the cries of some may be heard, a strange long-drawn-out wailing sound, as if of people in distress, or children crying. Yet it was always a pleasant sound to me, as a sign of life, and probably of enjoyment, in these active and harmless denizens of the woods. There are no fewer than thirty-nine different species of these animals living in Madagascar, of which twenty-nine are the true lemurs, while the other ten are closely allied to them and are lemur-like (Lemuroida). The eastern and north-eastern forests contain about a third of the larger number; and M. Grandidier has pointed out that while some species have a wide range, others have a very distinctly defined habitat, which is frequently limited by two rivers, one to the north and the other to the south of their district.

Three species of the Propitheques (Lemuroida) are known by the Malagasy under the common name of _Sìmpona_. They live in companies of from six to eight, and are diurnal animals; one may see them morning and evening, when the heat is not too great, leaping in the woods from tree to tree in search of food. Often they may be surprised at sunrise, says M. Grandidier, squatting on the fork of a tree, their long legs bent under them, touching the chin, their hands resting on their knees, stretching out their arms and legs so as not to lose a single ray of the newly risen sun. The food of these animals is entirely vegetable; and they are formed for purely arboreal life, for there is a membrane along the arms and legs which acts, to a certain extent, as a parachute, so that they make leaps of from twenty-five to thirty feet without apparent effort, and they seem to fly through the air. On the rare occasions when they leave the woods they advance by leaps, as if their feet were tied together, and have a most comical appearance as they go across a bit of open ground. One of these sìmpona is silvery-grey in colour, with black head and neck; another is entirely white, except for its dark brown face; and a third species is black or dark brown in colour. Of the true lemurs, I had the good fortune once to see a pair of the kind called red lemur (_Lemur varius_, var. _ruber_) cross a path near the house; these were large and handsome animals, warm reddish-brown in colour, and took astonishing leaps in a most graceful manner; but they were out of sight in an instant, and I can easily believe what is said by collectors, that it is easier to shoot a flying bird than a lemur in motion.

In the small streams which occur at the bottom of many of the ravines, we may often come across the curious nests of the pensile weaver-bird (_Ploceus pensilis_), which are beautifully and ingeniously constructed, shaped like an inverted chemical retort, and are suspended from the extremities of the branches of the trees and usually over running water. These nests are about a foot or fourteen inches long, the bulb giving ample room for the eggs or nestlings, and the tube, forming the entrance from below, being three to four inches in diameter. The native name for this species, _Fòdifètsy_—_i.e._ the “Crafty Fòdy”—recognises this skill of the bird in protecting its young. The nests of another species are large and simply globular in shape, and, from thirty to forty in number, may be seen hanging from a single tree. The Madagascar bee-eater is one of the most beautiful birds to be seen in the forest, both from its elegance of form and its bright colouring of various shades of green (_Merops superciliosus_). It has a very long curved beak, and an extremely long tail, with two long feathers extending beyond the others. Its nests are excavated about a foot deep on a sand-bank bordering streams.

[Sidenote: COUAS]

Another group of birds, also conspicuous from their size and colouring, must be noticed here—viz. the couas, a genus of cuckoos peculiar to Madagascar, and of which twelve species are known. They are large and handsomely coloured, and are, says M. Grandidier, strictly local in their habitat, most of them being confined to one district, out of which they are never found. Five species of coua inhabit the forests or wooded regions, while the other seven live on the plains. The blue coua (_Coua cerulea_), the only species I have seen in the upper forest, is fairly common, and is conspicuous from its colouring; while the crested coua is found all over the wooded regions. One of the twelve species goes from rock to rock, seeking the large land-shells which form its principal food (_Coua delalandei_). These molluscs it breaks by striking their shells against a stone, from which habit comes its native name of _Famàki-sìfotra_, or “snail-breaker.”

But several chapters would be required to say all that might be said of interest about the birds inhabiting the upper belt of woods, and I will not weary my readers by further descriptions, in this place at least. I will conclude this chapter by quoting a few sentences written about the wonder and mystery of the Madagascar forests by my late friend, Mr Baron; for no one knew better than he did how to explore and how to describe them.

After speaking of the fatigue of travelling in the forest, Mr Baron says:

“But the true lover of Nature almost loses any sense of fatigue
in the excitement and pleasure afforded by the infinitely varied
and beautiful forms of vegetable and animal life that are around
him. The tall trees of innumerable species, in fierce competition
with their neighbours, rearing their great trunks heavenwards that
they may spread out their foliage, and open their blossoms in the
light above, the fantastic foldings and twistings of the snake-like
lianas, the countless shapes and tints of the leaves, the bright
colours of some brilliant beetle, the delicately traced wing design
of some happy butterfly, the merry chirping of some gaily adorned
bird, the hurried steps of the busy little ants, the languid
movements of a chameleon, with its strange skin and stranger eyes,
the patient watching for prey of a red three-cornered spider, the
tiny mosses and delicate ferns nestling snugly among their big
brothers under the rocks—all these and a thousand other objects of
interest and beauty help one to forget the exertion and the toil
caused by the difficulties of the road, and make one feel that
it is with a lavish and artistic hand that their great Maker has
formed and bedecked them all. Moreover, there is in travelling in
the forest a strange and fascinating illusion, a vague feeling of
expectancy, which persistently recurs, in spite of disappointment,
that somewhere on in front something of exceptional interest will
be found.”

[Sidenote: A NIGHT IN THE FOREST]

I have of course, during many journeys in Madagascar, spent many a night in small villages surrounded by forest, but I have not had quite the experiences described by Mr Baron in another passage which I shall venture to quote. Mr Baron says:

[Sidenote: NOCTURNAL NOISES]

“To spend a night in the forest is an experience worth having.
Bivouacked in some open glade, through which a small stream
creeps lazily along, with a warm cheering fire to keep off the
dew and chill of the night, one gains a quite different knowledge
of the forest from that which one gets in the daytime, for all
nature is not asleep even in the midnight hour. Just as darkness
is setting in the fireflies with their tiny lanterns flit about
among the bushes; and the cicada, of various species, perched on
the trunks of trees, commence their strange song. They are small
in size, but certainly they make a big din. Well may the Malagasy
proverb say: ‘Don’t be like the cicada, whose voice fills the
whole valley, though the creature itself is but a mouthful.’ The
sound it makes is not a buzz-z exactly, and it is not a hum-m-m.
It is a deafening, unceasing, rasping, irritating monotone. As
the darkness increases, various nocturnal creatures come forth
from their hiding-places, and every now and then pounce on their
unconscious prey. Keep awake a while and listen to the strange and,
for the most part, mysterious sounds. Suddenly there is a terrific
scream. Some bird or beastie finds itself all at once in the jaws
of death. And what is that ceaseless creaking throughout the night?
Fancy or fear pictures some strange hobgoblin; it is, however,
nothing but the leaves of a screw-pine twisted and strained by the
breeze. And what is that remarkable string of sounds for all the
world like water bubbling out a bottle? It is the _Tolòho_, a kind
of cuckoo, disturbed in its night’s repose. And then, at regular
intervals, ‘_kow-kow-koo, kow-kow-koo_’; what is that? Another
cuckoo, the _Kankàfotra_, which never seems to go to sleep. From
the stream or marsh close by there rises the unmusical croak of
the frogs. After an interval of silence, you first of all hear a
single croak, then another, and another, until gradually there
arises a perfect chorus, which is kept up throughout the night. The
tree-frogs also, perched on the leaves, not a whit behind their
cousins in the marsh, pass the night in croaking. Numerous other
strange and weird noises are to be heard during the night in the
forest, but from what throats they proceed it is beyond me to say.”