Animal Lore
We are indebted to Pliny for much strange animal lore--which, however,
will scarcely bear the fierce light of modern investigation. Thus, he
tells us of places in which certain animals are not to be found, and
narrates some very curious zoological anecdotes thereon. "It is a
remarkable fact, that nature has not only assigned different countries
to different animals, but that even in the same country it has denied
certa
n species to certain localities. In Italy, the dormouse is found
in one part only, the Messian forest. In Lycia, the gazelle never passes
beyond the mountains which border upon Syria; nor does the wild ass in
that vicinity pass over those which divide Cappadocia from Cilicia. On
the banks of the Hellespont, the stags never pass into a strange
territory, and, about Arginussa, they never go beyond Mount Elaphus;
those upon the mountains, too, have cloven ears. In the island of
Poroselene, the weasels will not so much as cross a certain road. In
Boeotia, the moles, which were introduced at Lebadea, fly from the very
soil of that country, while in the neighbourhood, at Orchomenus, the
very same animals tear up all the fields. We have seen coverlets for
beds made of the skin of these creatures, so that our sense of religion
does not prevent us from employing these ominous animals for the
purposes of luxury.
"When hares have been brought to Ithaca, they die as soon as ever they
touch the shore, and the same is the case with rabbits, on the shores of
the island of Ebusus; while they abound in the vicinity, Spain namely,
and the Balearic isles. In Cyrene, the frogs were formerly dumb, and
this species still exists, although croaking ones were carried over
there from the Continent. At the present day, even, the frogs of the
island of Seriphos are dumb; but when they are carried to other places,
they croak; the same thing is also said to have taken place at
Sicandrus, a lake of Thessaly. In Italy, the bite of a shrew-mouse is
venomous; an animal which is not to be found in any region beyond the
Apennines. In whatever country it exists, it always dies immediately if
it goes across the rut made by a wheel. Upon Olympus, a mountain of
Macedonia, there are no wolves, nor yet in the isle of Crete. In this
island there are neither foxes nor bears, nor, indeed, any kind of
baneful animal, with the exception of the phalangium, a species of
spider. It is a thing still more remarkable, that in this island there
are no stags, except in the district of Cydon; the same is the case with
the wild boar, the woodcock, and the hedgehog."
He further tells us of animals which will injure strangers only, as also
animals which injure the natives only.
"There are certain animals which are harmless to the natives of the
country, but destroy strangers; such as the little serpents at
Tirynthus, which are said to spring out of the earth. In Syria, also,
and especially on the banks of the Euphrates, the serpents never attack
the Syrians when they are asleep, and even if they happen to bite a
native who treads upon them, their venom is not felt; but to persons of
any other country they are extremely hostile, and fiercely attack them,
causing a death attended with great torture. On this account the Syrians
never kill them. On the contrary, on Latmos, a mountain of Caria, as
Aristotle tells us, strangers are not injured by the scorpions, while
the natives are killed by them."
He also throws some curious light, unknown to modern zoologists, on the
antipathies of animals one to another. He says:--"There will be no
difficulty in perceiving that animals are possessed of other instincts
besides those previously mentioned. In fact, there are certain
antipathies, and sympathies among them, which give rise to various
affections, besides those which we have mentioned in relation to each
species, in its appropriate place. The Swan and the Eagle are always at
variance, and the Raven and the Chloreus seek each other's eggs by
night. In a similar manner, also, the Raven and the Kite are perpetually
at war with one another, the one carrying off the other's food. So,
too, there are antipathies between the Crow and the Owl, the Eagle and
the Trochilus; between the last two, if we are to believe the story,
because the latter has received the title of 'the king of birds;' the
same, again, with the Owlet and all the smaller birds.
"Again, in relation to the terrestrial animals, the Weasel is at enmity
with the Crow, the Turtle-dove with the Pyrallis, the Ichneumon with the
Wasp, and the Phalangium with other Spiders. Among aquatic animals,
there is enmity between the Duck and the Seamew, the Falcon known as the
'Harpe,' and the Hawk called the 'Triorchis.' In a similar manner, too,
the Shrew-mouse and the Heron are ever on the watch for each other's
young; and the AEgithus, so small a bird as it is, has an antipathy for
the Ass; for the latter, when scratching itself, rubs its body against
the brambles, and so crushes the bird's nest; a thing of which it stands
in such dread, that, if it only hears the voice of the Ass when it
brays, it will throw its eggs out of the nest, and the young ones,
themselves, will, sometimes, fall to the ground in their fright; hence
it is that it will fly at the Ass, and peck at its sores with its beak.
"The Fox, too, is at war with the Nisus, and Serpents with Weasels and
Swine. AEsalon is the name given to a small bird that breaks the eggs of
the Raven, and the young of which are anxiously sought by the Fox;
while, in its turn, it will peck at the young of the Fox, and even the
parent itself. As soon as the Ravens espy this, they come to its
assistance, as though against a common enemy. The Acanthis, too, lives
among the brambles; hence it is that it also has an antipathy to the
Ass, because it devours the bramble blossoms. The AEgithus and the
Anthus, too, are at such mortal enmity with each other, that it is the
common belief that their blood will not mingle; and it is for this
reason that they have the bad repute of being employed in many magical
incantations. The Thos and the Lion are at war with each other; and,
indeed, the smallest objects and the greatest, just as much.
Caterpillars will avoid a tree that is infested with Ants. The Spider,
poised in its web, will throw itself on the head of a Serpent, as it
lies stretched beneath the shade of the tree where it has built, and,
with its bite, pierce its brain; such is the shock, that the creature
will hiss from time to time, and then, seized with vertigo, coil round
and round, while it finds itself unable to take to flight, or so much as
to break the web of the spider, as it hangs suspended above; this scene
only ends with its death."