The Great Ant-Bear—His Way of Licking up Termites—His Formidable Weapons—A Perfect Forest Vagabond—His Peculiar Manner of Walking—The Smaller Ant-Eaters—The Manides—The African Aard Vark—The Armadillos—The Porcupine Ant-Eater of Australia.

The great Ant-bear is undoubtedly one of the most extraordinary denizens of the wilds of South America, for that a powerful animal, measuring above six feet from the snout to the end of the tail, should live exclusively on ants, seems scarcely less remarkable than that the whale nourishes his enormous body with minute pteropods and medusÆ. The vast mouth of the leviathan of the seas has been most admirably adapted to his peculiar food, and it was not in vain that Nature gave such colossal dimensions to his head, as it was necessary to find room for a gigantic straining apparatus, in which, on rejecting the engulphed water, thousands upon thousands of his tiny prey might remain entangled; but the ant-bear has been no less wonderfully armed for the capture of the minute animals on which he feeds, and if, on considering the use for which it was ordained, we become reconciled to the seeming disproportion of the whale’s jaws, the small and elongated, snout-like head of the ant-bear will also appear less uncouthly formed when we reflect that it is in exact accordance with the wants of the animal. For here no deep cavity was required for the reception of two rows of powerful teeth, as in most other quadrupeds, but a convenient furrow for a long and extensile tongue—the use of which will immediately become apparent on following the animal into the Brazilian campos, where, as we have seen in a former chapter, the wonderful cities of the white ant are dispersed over the plains in such incalculable numbers. Approaching one of these structures, the ant-bear strikes a hole through its wall of clay, with his powerful crooked claws, and as the ants issue forth by thousands to resent the insult, stretches out his tongue for their reception. Their furious legions, eager for revenge, immediately rush upon it, and vainly endeavouring to pierce its thick skin with their mandibles, remain sticking to the glutinous liquid with which it is lubricated from two very large glands situated below its root. When sufficiently charged with prey, the ant-bear suddenly withdraws his tongue and swallows all the insects.

Without swiftness to enable him to escape from his enemies, for man is superior to him in speed; without teeth, the possession of which would assist him in self-defence; without the power of burrowing in the ground, by which he might conceal himself from his pursuers; without a cave to retire to, the ant-bear still ranges through the wilderness in perfect safety, and fears neither the boa nor the jaguar, for he has full reliance on his powerful fore-legs and their tremendous claws.

Richard Schomburgh had an opportunity of witnessing a young ant-bear make use of these formidable weapons. On the enemy’s approach it assumed the defensive, but in such a manner as to make the boldest aggressor pause, for, resting on its left fore-foot, it struck out so desperately with its right paw as would undoubtedly have torn off the flesh of any one that came in contact with its claws. Attacked from behind, it wheeled with the rapidity of lightning, and on being assailed from several quarters at once, threw itself on its back, and desperately fighting with its fore-legs, uttered at the same time an angry growl of defiance. In fact the ant-bear is so formidable an opponent that he is said not unfrequently to vanquish even the jaguar, the lord of the American forests, for the latter is often found swimming in his blood, with ripped-up bowels, a wound which, of all the beasts of the wilderness, the claws of the ant-bear are alone able to inflict.

On seizing an animal with these powerful weapons, he hugs it close to his body, and keeps it there till it dies through pressure or hunger. Nor does the ant-bear, in the meantime, suffer much from want of aliment, as it is a well known fact that he can remain longer without food than perhaps any other quadruped, so that there is very little chance indeed of a weaker animal’s escaping from his clutches.

Peaceable and harmless, the ant-bear when unprovoked never thinks of attacking any other creature; and as his interests and pursuits do not interfere with those of the more formidable denizens of the wilderness, he would, without doubt, attain a good old age, and be allowed to die in peace, if, unfortunately for him, his delicate flesh did not provoke the attacks of the large carnivora and man. To be sure, the Indian fears his claws, and never ventures to approach the wounded ant-bear until he has breathed his last; nor can he be hunted with dogs, as his skin is of a texture that perfectly resists a bite, and his hinder parts are effectually protected by thick and shaggy hair; yet, armed with the wourali poison, the wild hunters know how to paralyse in a few minutes his muscular powers, and to stretch him dead upon the earth. They have also recourse to stratagem for the animal’s destruction, for during rain it turns its long bushy tail up over its back and stands still. Knowing this, the Indians when they meet with one, rustle the leaves, and it thinks rain is falling, and turning up its tail, they take the opportunity of killing it by a blow on the head with a stick.

A perfect forest vagabond, the ant-bear has no den to retire to, nor any fixed abode; his immense tail is large enough to cover his whole body, and serves him as a tent during the night, or as a waterproof mantle against the rains of the wet season, so that he might boast, like Diogenes, of carrying all he required about him.

The peculiar position of his paws, when he walks or stands, is worthy of notice. He goes entirely on the outer side of his fore-feet, which are quite bent inwards, the claws collected into a point and going under the foot. In this position he is quite at ease, while his long claws are disposed of in a manner to render them harmless to him, and are prevented from becoming dull and worn, which would inevitably be the case did their points come in actual contact with the ground, for they have not that retractile power which is given to animals of the feline race, enabling them to preserve the sharpness of their claws on the most flinty path. In consequence of its resting perpetually on the ground, the whole outer side of the foot is hard and callous, while, on the contrary, the inner side of the bottom of the foot is soft and hairy.

Besides the great ant-bear, there are two other species of American ant-eaters, one nearly the size of a fox, and the smallest not much larger than a rat. Being provided with prehensile tails, they are essentially arboreal, while the great ant-bear, incapable of climbing, always remains on the ground, where, thanks to the abundance of his prey, he is always sure of obtaining a sufficient supply of food, with very little trouble.

The Manides, and Pangolins, of South Africa and Asia, resemble the ant-eaters of America in having a very long extensile tongue, furnished with a glutinous mucus for securing their insect food, and in being destitute of teeth; but completely differ from them in having the whole body covered with a panoply of large imbricated scales, overlapping each other like those of the lizard tribes, and also in being able to roll themselves up when in danger, by which their trenchant scales become erect, and present a formidable defensive armour of wonderful hardness, so that even the tiger would vainly attempt to overcome the Indian Pangolin.

The manides are inoffensive animals, living wholly on ants and termites, and chiefly inhabit the most obscure parts of the forest, burrowing in the ground to a great depth, for which purpose, as also for extracting their food from ant-hills and decaying wood, their feet are armed with powerful claws, which they double up in walking, like the ant-bear of Brazil.

Besides several species of manides, Africa possesses a peculiar class of ant-eaters in the Aard varks, or Earth-hogs (Orycteropi), thus called from their extraordinary powers of excavation and their fancied resemblance to small short-legged pigs. Such is the strength of their prodigious claws that they easily tear to pieces the clay-built domes of the termites; which, though so solid as to be capable of bearing the weight of many men on their summits, are unable to resist the destructive labours of the Aard vark. Towards evening the animal issues from its burrow, and roaming over the plains, searches for an ant-hill in full operation. A breach is soon made in the strong walls of the citadel, and as the unfortunate termites run hither and thither in consternation, like the inmates of a beleaguered city whose ramparts are crumbling under the enemy’s artillery, the author of this confusion flings his glutinous tongue among them and sweeps them into his mouth by hundreds. The Aard varks abound all over the sultry plains of torrid Africa, but owing to their great burrowing powers the capture of a living specimen is attended with the greatest difficulty; the claws being instruments of excavation with which the spade is unable to compete. Unless disturbed, however, and forced to dig deeper through fear of capture, the Aard vark, being averse to unnecessary trouble, makes but a shallow burrow—sufficiently deep, however, not seldom to cause the wheels of a waggon to sink into it, or to prove a treacherous pitfall to a hunter in full chase.

The American Armadillos have many points in common with the Manides. They have neither fore nor canine teeth, but a number of conical grinders, and are distinguished by having the upper parts of their bodies defended by a complete suit of armour, divided into joints or bands, folding one over the other like the parts of a lobster’s tail, so as to accommodate themselves to all the motions of the animal. In life, this shell is very limber, so that the armadillo is able to go at full stretch, or to roll himself up into a ball as occasion may require. These animals are very common both in the forests and in the open plains of South America, where they reside in subterranean homes which they have dug with their powerful fore-limbs. They are seldom seen abroad during the day, and when surprised are sure to be near the mouth of their holes; but after sunset they sally forth in search of roots, grain, worms, insects, and other small animals, and when disturbed, coil themselves up in their armour like the hedgehog, or squat close to the ground, or escape by digging into the earth, a work which they perform with masterly dexterity. So fast indeed do they excavate that if a horseman sees one of these animals, he must almost tumble from his steed if he wishes to capture the active creature. And when he has seized it he must be cautious not to come into contact with its feet, or he will suffer severe wounds from the powerful claws with which they are armed.

The family of the armadillos has been subdivided into numerous genera and species, distinguished from each other by the number of their shelly bands, their teeth, and their toes. They might also be conveniently divided into two tribes, the one with a long and conical tail, the other with a short caudal appendage, formed like a club. They differ greatly in size, for while the giant armadillo (Priodontes gigas) is at least four feet long from the tip of the snout to the tip of the tail, the Pichiciago (Chlamyphorus truncatus), which inhabits the province of Mendoza in the Andes, and is remarkable for its mole-like propensities, passing the greatest part of its life underground, scarcely measures six inches in length.

The curious Echidna, or Porcupine Ant-eater (Echidna hystrix) of Australia, is a striking instance of those beautiful gradations so frequently observed in the animal kingdom, by which creatures of various tribes or genera are blended as it were, or linked together, and of the wonderful diversity which Nature has introduced into the forms of creatures destined to a similar mode of life. It has the general appearance and external coating of the porcupine, with the mouth and peculiar generic characters of the ant-eaters. It is about a foot in length, and burrows with wonderful facility by means of its short muscular fore-feet and its sharp-pointed claws. When attacked, it rolls itself into a ball like the hedgehog, erecting the short, strong, and very sharp spines with which the upper parts of the body and tail are thickly coated, and thus presenting a formidable defensive armour to its assailant.