A similar structure is to be found in all hoofed quadrupeds, and is especially noticeable in the case of the Elephant. All those who have watched the walk of an Elephant, no matter what its size may be, must have been struck with the curious noiselessness of its movements. Its weight may be measured by tons, and yet the enormous animal steps as noiselessly as a cat. On examining one of the hoofs, after it is removed from the foot, the cause of this marvellously silent tread is perfectly evident. The whole of the hoof is composed of nearly parallel horny plates, and by their united action they produce the required result.
Each plate in itself is very feeble, but, when united as they are at the ends, they afford mutual support to each other. Similarly the separate feathers in a couch would be crushed by a comparatively slight weight, but when a number are confined together they support each other, and form the soft, yielding couch with which we are so familiar. Horsehair, when used as the stuffing for a couch or chair, acts in the same way, and so do the fine filaments of wool when used under the name of “flock.”
Another good example of the power of accumulated force, although it has no direct relation to the spring, is the well-known fact that fungi, which are separately so fragile, are capable of lifting and retaining in the air stones so large that two men could hardly carry them. Were the stones laid down upon the fungi, the latter would be crushed, but, as they grow beneath the stones, they accumulate their powers, and slowly, but certainly, raise the weight from the ground.
This very principle of accumulated force has long been used in weapons of war, and I possess several examples of such weapons. One of them is a Chinese repeating Cross-bow, which was taken at the capture of the Peiho Fort, and was really a formidable wall-instrument, carrying a reserve of arrows, and delivering them with great rapidity. In point of fact, it consists of three bows, placed upon each other, and playing upon each other just as do the portions of a carriage spring. Such strength is thus obtained, that the bow cannot be drawn by hand, but is worked with a lever, as shown in the illustration. The whole machinery of the weapon, including the self-notching and self-supplying system, is very interesting, but is outside our present object. The very powerful bow of the ancient Balista was made on the same principle, and was strong enough to throw large stones and wooden beams.
I also have bows in my collection which are strengthened on the same principle, though not exactly in the same manner. There are several Indian, Chinese, and Japanese bows which are curved almost like the letter C, and have to be reversed when strung. These bows are of no very great size, but possess wonderful elasticity. They owe the latter quality to sundry layers of sinew which have been affixed to the back when wet, and which add enormously to the power of the bow, while they very little enlarge its dimensions.
Another bow, made by the natives of Vancouver’s Island, has the back strengthened by a number of cords spun from sinew fibres, and possessing the strength and elasticity to which we are accustomed in the strings of the harp, guitar, or violin.
We will now turn to a parallel in Nature. This is to be found in the lower jaw of the Crocodile, as is pointed out by Professor Owen, in his work on the “Skeleton and the Teeth.”
All persons who have a smattering of anatomy are aware that even in the human body the most solid bones of the adult were originally composed of several pieces, and that they only become fused together in course of time. The jaw-bones, for example, were once so composed, and in the Crocodile the junction is never completed, the pieces of bone remaining separate, but being pressed firmly against each other during life.