So there are tracks in strata of every age; at first those of invertebrates: after the worm burrows the curious complicated trails of animals believed to be akin to the king crab; broad, ribbed, ribbon-like paths ascribed to trilobites; then faint scratches of insects, and the shallow, palmed prints of salamanders, and the occasional slender sprawl of a lizard; then footprints, big and little, of the horde of Dinosaurs and, finally, miles above the Cambrian, marks of mammals. Sometimes, like the tracks of salamanders and reptiles in the carboniferous rocks of Pennsylvania and Kansas, these are all we have to tell of the existence of air-breathing animals. Again, as with the iguanodon, the foot to fit the track may be found in the same layer of rock, but this is not often the case.

Although footprints in the rocks must often have been seen, they seem to have attracted little or no notice from scientific men until about 1830 to 1835, when they were almost simultaneously described both in Europe and America; even then, it was some time before they were generally conceded to be actually the tracks of animals, but, like worm burrows and trails, were looked upon as the impressions of sea-weeds.

The now famous tracks in the "brown stone" of the Connecticut Valley seem to have first been seen by Pliny Moody in 1802, when he ploughed up a specimen on his farm, showing small imprints, which later on were popularly called the tracks of Noah's raven. The discovery passed without remark until in 1835 the footprints came under the observation of Dr. James Deane, who, in turn, called Professor Hitchcock's attention to them. The latter at once began a systematic study of these impressions, publishing his first account in 1836 and continuing his researches for many years, in the course of which he brought together the fine collection in Amherst College. At that time Dinosaurs were practically unknown, and it is not to be wondered at that these three-toed tracks, great and small, were almost universally believed to be those of birds. So it is greatly to the credit of Dr. Deane, who also studied these footprints, that he was led to suspect that they might have been made by other animals. This suspicion was partly caused by the occasional association of four and five-toed prints with the three-toed impressions, and partly by the rare occurrence of imprints showing the texture of the sole of the foot, which was quite different from that of any known bird.

Fig. 6.—Where a Dinosaur Sat Down.

In the light of our present knowledge we are able to read many things in these tracks that were formerly more or less obscure, and to see in them a complete verification of Dr. Deane's suspicion that they were not made by birds. We see clearly that the long tracks called Anomœpus, with their accompanying short fore feet, mark where some Dinosaur squatted down to rest or progressed slowly on all-fours, as does the kangaroo when feeding quietly;[3] and we interpret the curious heart-shaped depression sometimes seen back of the feet, not as the mark of a stubby tail, but as made by the ends of the slender pubes, bones that help form the hip-joints. Then, too, the mark of the inner, or short first, toe, is often very evident, although it was a long time before the bones of this toe were actually found, and many of the Dinosaurs now known to have four toes were supposed to have but three.

[3] It is to be noted that a leaping kangaroo touches the ground neither with his heel nor his tail, but that between jumps he rests momentarily on his toes only; hence impressions made by any creature that jumped like a kangaroo would be very short.

It seems strange, and it is strange, that while so many hundreds of tracks should have been found in the limited area exposed to view, so few bones have been found—our knowledge of the veritable animals that made the tracks being a blank. A few examples have, it is true, been found, but these are only a tithe of those known to have existed; while of the great animals that strode along the shore, leaving tracks fifteen inches long and a yard apart pressed deeply into the hard sand, not a bone remains. The probability is that the strata containing their bones lie out to sea, whither their bodies were carried by tides and currents, and that we may never see more than the few fragments that were scattered along the seaside.

That part of the Valley of the Connecticut wherein the footprints are found seems to have been a long, narrow estuary running southward from Turner's Falls, Mass., where the tracks are most abundant and most clear. The topography was such that this estuary was subject to sudden and great fluctuations of the water-level, large tracts of shore being now left dry to bake in the sun, and again covered by turbid water which deposited on the bottom a layer of mud. Over and over again this happened, forming layer upon layer of what is now stone, sometimes the lapse of time between the deposits being so short that the tracks of the big Dinosaurs extend through several sheets of stone; while again there was a period of drouth when the shore became so dry and firm as to retain but a single shallow impression.