Toads can be tamed and taught to eat from the hand. They are easily beguiled with sugar and with bread that has been soaked in milk, but, like a captious child, they eat only the middle out of the slice, and leave the crust. We once saw a toad, a noble fellow he was, who, at a certain hour of the closing day, would come from his gloomy retreat to receive at the hands of man his supper of flies, which he had been trained to catch on the throw. So unerringly would his tongue dart out at the opportune moment, that he seldom, if ever, shot wide of his mark. It is amusing to observe him when, in his greed and haste, he has attempted to swallow a huge grasshopper whose legs will not accommodate themselves to his peculiar gape of mouth. How he swallows and twists and contracts the walls of his throat, but the legs seem unmanageable. He does not give up, or endeavor to eject the half-swallowed body, but ponders the matter over and over. A look of delight beams out of his eyes, that shows he has managed the problem. Up goes to the mouth the right fore-leg, and, in less time than it takes to chronicle the event, the obstreperous insect is pushed into the stomach.
Some curious myths are told of the toad. One says he can live for hundreds of years encased in clay or in stone. No more true of Bufo is this than of Rana, his cousin. Another asserts that his skin, when handled, is productive of warts, and that the fluid he emits, which serves but to moisten his body, for without moisture he could certainly not live, and to protect him from enemies, is poisonous in character. His power to produce warts, we cannot admit. But that the fluid he exudes, if not poisonous to touch, is offensive to animals, there can be no doubt. We are led to this conclusion from the following considerations: Dogs, young animals especially, are prone to attack the toad, but they never want to repeat their experience. The toad’s exudation so affects the salivary glands of the dog as to cause him to froth and foam like an animal with rabies. A case is recalled where a dog, that had taken a toad in his mouth, became almost frantic. This dog never afterwards was well. His whole system apparently had become diseased, and, in less than a year, he had wasted to a complete skeleton, when death relieved him of his sufferings. Another allegation, that the toad has a jewel in his head, has been believed from very ancient times. The story doubtlessly originated from the beauty of the toad’s eyes, the irides being a rich flame-color, which, in the dusk of the even, shine like burnished gems.
When hatched the young of the toad are of a jet black color, and are very active. Their changes are made very early and in the same manner as those of the frog. They are quite small when arrived at the perfect toad state. Their legs produced and their tails absorbed, they quit the water and set out on long journeys. Unlike the frog, which is a home-stayer, the toad is a born vagrant. They travel chiefly by night, hiding under stones and herbage during the day. If clouds cover the sky, they take heart and joyously hop forth upon their pilgrimage. During a long drouth they mysteriously disappear, but if a rain comes on they suddenly come out by hundreds, and this has given rise to the tale of a “shower of toads.”
Worms, as well as flies, etc., constitute a toad’s bill of fare. After a rain toads and worms, it would seem, are mutually inspired to take their walks abroad, and many an unfortunate worm makes its way into the toad’s maw. Dead insects are at a discount with him, and he views with suspicion anything that shows not the active wriggling principle of life. When winter comes on the toad, like the frog, goes into winter-quarters. Since the young toad reaches its adult size in the autumn, it is forced to pass the first period of its grown-up life in a sleep, or coma, in some hole or burrow which it has found or fashioned in the earth. Sometimes toads creep into rock-crevices, or into hollows in logs and trees, and being found in these places in the early spring are hastily supposed to have been prisoners for many years.
In the process of growth the skin of the toad, as well as that of the frog, becomes too small, and hence is cast off. As the shedding-time approaches, the white, green and brown colors become dull, and a peculiar dryness appears. A new skin is now forming under the outgrown one, and presently the latter splits half down the middle of the back and along the under part of the body. By a series of violent twitchings of the toad the old skin is made to wrinkle and fold along the sides. A hind-leg is now tucked under a fore-arm, and by a good pull the animal is soon out of that leg of his trousers. The other leg is removed in similar fashion. Putting one hand in his mouth and giving a jerk, off comes the covering of that hand and arm, like a discarded glove. He has now but to take off the other, and he is free. Relieved of his dress he neither sells nor gives it away, but rolls it up into a neat solid ball and swallows it. The frog strips off and disposes of his outgrown skin in a similar way.
Strange to say, toads and frogs can change to some extent the color of their skin to suit their homes. Kept in the dark with dark surroundings, toads become darker in color, while those that are kept in light with white accessories become lighter. The color of the toad changes more slowly than that of the frog. It is not the arrangement of the color that alters, but merely a change from light to dark.
What has been said applies to our Common American Toad, the Bufo Americana of the books. Let us now look at some curious specimens of the Bufonidæ. The Pipa, or Surinam Toad, does not lay her eggs in water, but places them on her back. A fold of skin rises up and encloses each egg in a separate cell, until the young have not only been hatched, but have also passed through all their metamorphoses, and come out fully formed. Another toad, abundant in Europe and Asia, is largely colored with bright crimson, and the father-toad carries the little ones in separate cells fastened to his hind-legs like chains. The young change to their perfect shape in these cells, and with the withering away of the cells the young toads hop out, able to take care of themselves.
Somewhere I have said that toads are generally silent. A little toad about three inches long, called a Natter-jack, is common in England, and is a noted singer. His “gluck-gluck, gluck-k-k,” can be heard any night. The Green Toad, well known on the Continent, is not so noisy as the Natter-jack, but has a low, moaning cry.
All the Tree-toads, or Hylidæ, have clear, shrill voices, and are fond of singing serenades. In the spring the Common Toad takes to the water and there sings very loudly. The loud continuous trill that we hear in swamps in spring-time is made by toads, and not by frogs, as is generally believed. Another toad with a voice is the Spade-foot. This Toad is rare, though widely distributed. It is remarkable for its feet, formed for digging, its subterranean habits, and its queer way of appearing and disappearing very suddenly. After a rainy season the Spade-foot will emerge from its hiding-place, attract attention by its loud cries, swarm by hundreds about the ponds, lay innumerable eggs, and vanish. But while thousands of eggs are laid, scarcely any hatch, for most of them perish from being laid so near to the water’s edge as to become dried up on the subsidence of the water.
Thus we find that toads have three different methods of life. Some live on trees, but seldom appear upon the ground. Others are underground dwellers, and hardly ever come to the surface. But the Common Toad, and his numerous kin, are dwellers in the ground, hiding among grass and other herbage when asleep, or when the sun is too intense for their comfort. But all toads, excepting the two varieties mentioned above, which carry their young on their bodies, repair to the water to drop their eggs, and the young live in the water until they have attained the adult state.