Such, then, is Kay Robinson’s bold and original theory. In some respects it seems far-fetched. The natural inclination is to ask, “Is it possible that cattle can be so stupid, so blind, as to really believe that a snap-dragon is the mouth of an animal, or that an orchid is a spider?”
At present we know so little of animal psychology that we are not yet in a position to give an answer to this question. Horses, we know, are apt to be frightened by the most harmless things, such as a piece of brown paper lying on the road. Mr Robinson’s theory should give a stimulus to the study of the mind of animals—a study which, if properly undertaken, will probably throw a flood of light upon some of the problems of evolution. Mr Robinson’s theory equally with the ordinarily-accepted hypothesis, utterly fails to explain the first origins of colours, scents, etc. When once a flower has acquired a certain amount of colour, it is easy to understand how that flower may attract insects or repel grazing animals. But how can the origin of the colour or other characteristic be explained?
We asked Mr Kay Robinson how he would account for the great success in the struggle for existence of some species of grasses on which herbivorous animals feed so largely. He replied, in the issue of The Country-Side, dated April 3, 1909:—
“The grass has a manner of growth which defies the grazing animal. Its long, thin leaves are constantly pushing upwards from the ground, and, if they are grazed down one day, they will have pushed up again the next. Moreover, when the outside blade of grass has exhausted its power of growing, there is another blade inside it with many inches still to grow, and another inside that which has scarcely begun to grow, and yet another further in which has not yet seen daylight; and so on. In a state of nature grazing animals are nowhere so numerous on any given patch of ground from day to day as to keep down the grass. If they were, carnivorous animals would stay there to eat the grazing animals, and grow fat and multiply. Thus the grazing herds are scattered and wandering, followed wherever they go by the beasts of prey; and in their absence the grass pushes ahead, so that when the grazing animals return its clump is larger and its roots are stronger, and it is better able to survive attack than before.
“The method of the clovers and trefoils is quite different. When circumstances are favourable and enemies few, they will form large-leaved luxuriant clumps, with fine heads of blossom; but where grazing animals abound they have the power of adapting themselves to altered circumstances. They creep so closely along the ground that the teeth of the grazing animal cannot pick them up between the surrounding grass, and they produce leaves so small and short-stalked that to eat them would be like nibbling the pile off velvet. Any clover or trefoil thus growing in self-defence is accepted as the ‘shamrock’ of Ireland; and it is certainly a fine emblem for a race which regards itself as surviving in spite of incessant oppression.
“These are the reasons, however, why the grasses and clovers or trefoils continue to enrich old pastures when most of the other plants disappear, with the exception of daisies and buttercups, and the acid sorrels.”
We should be glad to hear how Mr Robinson accounts for the conspicuous flowers in the species of “prickly pear” (Euphorbia), which is so abundant in India, and which is not browsed upon by animals.
We regret that we are not able to devote more space to this most interesting theory. We can only add that, even if it fail to become widely accepted, it is of great value as showing that it is possible to offer a plausible explanation of a large number of phenomena, which nine out of ten botanists explain in a very different way.
So satisfied are the majority of naturalists with the “insect theory,” that they seem of late years to have paid but little attention to the subject of floral colouration. This affords a striking instance of the pernicious influence which Neo-Darwinism is exercising on the minds of men to-day. It tends to stifle research instead of stimulating it.