It is obvious that for one creature to resemble another can be of little or no benefit to either until the resemblance is tolerably close. It is, therefore, insufficient to prove the utility of the perfected resemblance. We may readily grant this and yet maintain that the origin of the resemblance cannot be due to the action of natural selection.
The Drongo-cuckoo (Surniculus lugubris) displays so great a likeness to the King Crow (Dicrurus ater) that it is frequently held up by Neo-Darwinians as an excellent example of mimicry among birds. But D. Dewar writes, on page 204 of Birds of the Plains: “I do not pretend to know the colour of the last common ancestor of all the cuckoos, but I do not believe that the colour was black. What then caused Surniculus lugubris to become black and assume a king-crow-like tail?
“A black feather or two, even if coupled with some lengthening of the tail, would in no way assist the cuckoo in placing its egg in the drongo’s nest. Suppose an ass were to borrow the caudal appendage of the king of the forest, pin it on behind him, and then advance among his fellows with loud brays, would any donkey of average intelligence be misled by the feeble attempt at disguise? I think not. Much less would a king-crow be deceived by a few black feathers in the plumage of a cuckoo. I do not believe that natural selection has any direct connection with the nigritude of the drongo-cuckoo.”
Darwin was fully alive to this difficulty when he wrote: “As some writers have felt much difficulty in understanding how the first step in the process of mimicry could have been effected through natural selection, it may be well to remark that the process probably commenced long ago between forms not widely dissimilar in colour” (Descent of Man, 10th Ed., p. 324). Such a statement is of course quite inconsistent with the Neo-Darwinian position. “The conclusion which emerges most clearly,” writes Poulton (Essays on Evolution, p. 232), “is the entire independence of zoological affinity exhibited by these resemblances; and one of the rare cases in which Darwin’s insight into a biological problem did not lead him right was when he suggested that a former closer relationship may help us to a general understanding of the origin of mimicry. The preservation of an original likeness due to affinity undoubtedly explains certain cases of mimicry, but we cannot appeal to this principle in the most remarkable instances.”
It is unnecessary to labour this point. It is surely evident to everyone with average intelligence that, until the resemblance between two forms has advanced a considerable way, the likeness cannot be of utility to either, or at any rate of sufficient utility to give its possessor a survival advantage in the struggle for existence. Until it reaches this stage, natural selection cannot operate on it. It is therefore absurd to look upon natural selection as the direct cause of the origin of the likeness. When once a certain degree of resemblance has risen, it is quite likely that in some cases natural selection has strengthened the likeness.
The second great objection to the Neo-Darwinian explanation of the phenomenon known as mimicry is that in many cases the resemblance is unnecessarily exact. Even as we saw how the Kallimas, or dead-leaf butterflies, carried their resemblance to dead leaves to such an extent as to make it appear probable that factors other than natural selection have had a share in its production, so do we see in certain cases of mimetic resemblance an unnecessarily faithful likeness.
The Brain-fever Bird
The common Hawk Cuckoo of India (Hierococcyx varius) furnishes an example of this: “The brain-fever bird,” writes Finn, on page 58 of Ornithological and Other Oddities, “is the most wonderful feather copy of the Indian Sparrow-hawk or Shikra (Astur badius). All the markings in the hawk are reproduced in the cuckoo, which is also of about the same size, and of similar proportions in the matter of tail and wing; and both hawk and cuckoo having a first plumage quite different from the one they assume when adult, the resemblance extends to that too. Moreover, their flight is so much the same that unless one is near enough to see the beak, or can watch the bird settle and note the difference between the horizontal pose of the cuckoo and the erect bearing of the hawk, it is impossible to tell them apart on a casual view.” Moreover, the tail of the cuckoo sometimes hangs down vertically, thus intensifying the likeness to the hawk.
It is quite possible that the brain-fever bird derives some benefit from the resemblance; indeed, it has been seen to alarm small birds, even as the hawk-like common cuckoo frightens its dupes, but, as D. Dewar pointed out, on page 105 of vol. 57 of the Journal of the Society of Arts, “this is not sufficient to explain a likeness which is so faithful as to extend to the marking of each individual feather. When a babbler espies a hawk-like bird, it does not wait to inspect each feather before fleeing in terror; hence all that is necessary to the cuckoo is that it should bear a general resemblance to the shikra. The fact that the likeness extends to minute details in feather marking, points to the fact that in each case identical causes have operated to produce this type of plumage.” This conclusion is still further strengthened by the fact that the likeness extends to the immature plumage, that is to say, exists at a time when it cannot assist the cuckoo in its parasitical work.
Poulton meets this objection as follows: