The Courtship of Animals

by W. P. Pycraft

The existence of this nexus of conditions is commonly overlooked, but it is extremely important. Normally, not only among birds, but other animals higher and lower in the scale of life, “suggestion” does not suggest until the “hormones” concerned with the sexual activities have, as it were, saturated the system and rendered it, so to speak, highly inflammable. Even then it commonly happens that, with the male at any rate, this inflammable state bursts into flame of its own accord. But for this, indeed, how could the consummation—of the period of sexual activity ever be realized? In many cases the sexes are sundered far apart. What, but the merest accident, could bring them together if it were not for this consuming fire of desire which impels each sex to seek out the other? This stage is manifested in the case of the Deer, where, we have seen, the stag wanders far and wide bellowing to advertise his errand and listening for a response to his call. He is possessed by a “male-hunger” which eventually attains to a state of frenzy. Here no “suggestion” is needed, but the necessity for this stimulus, for some form of aphrodisiac, occurs with him after the first relief of his pent-up state has been attained. This stimulus is applied, both through the eye and the sense of smell, by the females of his herd. The same conditions apply in the case of the birds. But it is to be noted that with the females, as in the case of mammals, sexual desire is commonly less intense than in the males, and hence, in their case the need for “suggestion” by display of some sort. But apart from this, a “display” of some kind is necessary. How else can desire be indicated? And here is “sexual selection.” For males, mate-hungry as they might be, which resorted to no means of expressing their condition would go mateless: and the same is true, though perhaps in less extent, with the females; hence, then, it is clear display is a product of sexual selection.

That sexual desire is less intense in the case of the females is to be regarded as another result of this form of selection. If they displayed the same intensity of passion the males would speedily become exhausted, for it is well known that the gratification of the sexual emotions is far more enervating in the case of the male. It may well be that polyandry has arisen from this transference to the females, or development by the females, of increased sexual hunger.

The fact that birds will repeat, albeit imperfectly, the phases of the sexual display under the stimulus of fear, or anger, and when no females are present, must be regarded as an indication, for we can scarcely call it a proof, that exaggerated movements have become the normal concomitants of great excitement, at any rate during the season of reproductive activity. They are purely nervous responses to external conditions. It must not be forgotten that, at this time, fear begets other movements, equally striking, such as feigning lameness, and death, which have no part in the sexual display.

Interpreted in this light one can understand that to the female not as yet sexually “ripe” or sexually “hungry,” these movements, when not interpreted as signs of fear or anger, fail to produce any response. So soon, however, as this period of “ripeness” arrives, the stimulus through the nervous system produces the desired response, begetting a complementary stimulus through the secretions of the sexual glands, by what we may call the flow of the hormones; just as the sight of food stimulates the flow of saliva, or “makes the mouth water” before we are conscious of feeling hungry. In due time hunger will assert itself without the stimulus of the nervous system through the senses. But there must in any case be some form of display, some form of communicating and stimulating desire between the sexes, to secure the consummation of the reproductive acts. How else could intimation of sex hunger be indicated and satisfied?

That the desire for sexual congress is inherently more avid, more intense, in the male than in the female is often called in question; and more especially so by those who imagine that they have a mission to carry on “social reforms” and to regulate the relations between the sexes of the human race. Such aims and ambitions are commonly those of the arrogantly ignorant. There are few people who possess a sufficiently wide knowledge of this theme, or of the factors which underlie it, to qualify them to become the mentors of their fellow-men in these matters. However much we may choose to seek refuge in sophistry, the fact remains that man is still an animal, and if the human race is to continue he must always remain so.

A lurid light has just been shed on the fierceness of the sexual passion in the male by Mr. Julian Huxley, who relates some facts pregnant with meaning to all who have understanding, in regard to what obtains among birds. These facts are primarily concerned with the Mallard (Anas boscas). This bird is ostensibly monogamous, and, on the whole, seems to be a fairly considerate mate. The normal period of pairing having passed, and the duties of incubation having begun, the female ceases to harbour any further desire for sexual intimacy. Her whole energies are devoted to nursing her embryonic young into life. Not so the male. He is yet far from satiated; in him the sexual fever still burns fiercely, but somehow he seems never to make any attempt to provoke in his mate a like condition, as in the days before brooding began. On the other hand, he does not scruple to savagely pursue every other female who ventures abroad in his neighbourhood. So soon as a duck takes wing for a brief relaxation from the arduous work of brooding she is pursued by ten or a dozen already mated males, till at last she is obliged to descend on the water, and with her descend her pursuers, now to mob her without mercy. Commonly at least half of these infuriated males will eventually succeed in treading her; leaving their victim only after she has become completely exhausted or killed outright. This is no unusual occurrence. On the reservoirs at Tring, where every spring from one thousand to one thousand two hundred pairs congregate to breed, from seven per cent, to ten per cent, of females are annually killed in this way.

It is just possible, however, that an error may have crept into these observations. One cannot help asking, may it not be possible that these pursuing males were actually unmated birds? The chief argument against this is the fact that there is no sort of attempt to “display” apparent with these birds, simply an overmastering, ravenous desire to satisfy the craving which possesses them.

Evidence is not wanting that the evolution of pigment intensification and the consequent development of vividly coloured liveries, or the equivalent development of ornament, has been accompanied by an intensification of the reproductive instincts. For there can be no doubt but that the display of species which are conspicuous for their ornamentation is more animated than those of duller hues. As an argument in favour of this view the case of the display of the Great Crested Grebe may be cited, wherein each sex has developed both colour and ornament to a high degree, and are distinguishable only to the expert.

The latest and the best exponent of the behaviour of this species under the spell of sexual exaltation is Mr. Julian Huxley, whose observations, in a condensed form, are now to be surveyed. The most conspicuous features in this bird are the great Elizabethan ruff of bright chestnut and dark Vandyke brown, and the long dark-brown tufts of feathers, or “ears,” which surmount the head. But the satin-like sheen of the white breast and the fore part of the neck and face add not a little to the general effect. These ornaments are worn only during the breeding season. So soon as the fires within begin to burn, the parade of this finery commences, and it would seem that a somewhat protracted dalliance takes place before any actual pairing. During the early phases of these performances much play is made with ruffs and “ears.” The courting pair will frequently face one another on the water, and go through a strange ceremony of head-shaking. To this is soon added a sort of ghost dance, wherein the male suddenly dives, leaving his mate swinging excitedly from side to side. In a moment or two, however, he appears, not suddenly, as usual, but arising gradually out of the water. He seems to “grow” out of the water. First his head appears, with ears and ruff extended, and beak pointed downwards; then his neck, and finally the body arises into view, till only the extreme tail end remains submerged, so that he looks more like a penguin than a grebe! All the while he is turning on his long axis, as it were, till he gradually displays before his mate the dazzling white sheen of his breast and neck, set off by the rich red chestnut and brown of his face and frills. A moment more and both subside into their normal attitude, shake their heads at one another, and then proceed to feed as if nothing had happened.

But these quaint antics are only the preliminaries to still stranger. A pair of birds, engaged, apparently, solely in fishing and feeding, will suddenly approach one another and begin head-shaking, each striving to outdo the other. Then the ears, till now erect, are thrust out laterally, and the ruff is still further erected till it forms, with the ears, a common disc. Then the hen dives: immediately after down goes the cock. After some fifteen seconds or so she appears at the surface again, speedily followed by the cock, who breaks out about five-and-twenty yards off. Each crouches low over the water, and each will be seen bearing a tuft of weed in the beak. As each sights the other a tremendous rush is made, as if they intend to charge. But when about a yard apart each springs up and assumes the penguin position, save that the beak, instead of pointing downwards, is now held horizontally and bears its burden of weed. Still approaching, they eventually touch one another, treading the water and swaying in a sort of ecstasy, all the while shaking their heads from side to side. Then they gradually settle down into the normal swimming pose, though still keeping up the head-shaking; then this, too, subsides, the weed is dropped, and the performers drift apart and begin feeding. But no actual pairing accompanies these strange performances. This final rite is associated with a quite different ceremonial, and was witnessed more than once by Mr. Huxley. On the particular occasion which he describes he was watching a male swimming along near the reeds, apparently on the look-out for something, and turning his eyes in the direction of the course, he saw, at some distance off, what he supposed was a dead grebe lying hunched up in the water, with outstretched neck, and ruff and ears depressed. Presently the male swam alongside the body and bent down his head as if to examine it. Then he swam to the tail end, and suddenly scrambled out of the water on to the body; and there, with bowed head and depressed ears and crest, he seemed to stand a moment. Then he waddled forward over its head and into the water. Instantly the supposed corpse raised its head and neck, gave a sort of jump, and was swimming by the side of its mate. They had been pairing on a half-made nest, whose surface lay level with the water.