Extinct Monsters

Plate XI.

A GIGANTIC HORNED DINOSAUR, TRICERATOPS PRORSUS.
Length about 25 feet.

EXTINCT MONSTERS.

A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE LARGER
FORMS OF ANCIENT ANIMAL LIFE.

BY

REV. H. N. HUTCHINSON, B.A., F.G.S.,

AUTHOR OF “THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE EARTH,”
AND “THE STORY OF THE HILLS.”
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. SMIT AND OTHERS.

FIFTH AND CHEAPER EDITION.
LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, LD.
1897.
All rights reserved.

“The possibilities of existence run so deeply into the extravagant that there is scarcely any conception too extraordinary for Nature to realise.”—Agassiz.

PREFACE BY DR. HENRY WOODWARD, F.R.S.

KEEPER OF GEOLOGY, NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM.

I have been requested by my friend Mr. Hutchinson, to express my opinion upon the series of drawings which have been prepared by that excellent artist of animals, Mr. Smit, for this little book entitled “Extinct Monsters.”

Many of the stories told in early days, of Giants and Dragons, may have originated in the discovery of the limb-bones of the Mammoth, the Rhinoceros, or other large animals, in caves, associated with heaps of broken fragments, in which latter the ignorant peasant saw in fancy the remains of the victims devoured at the monster’s repasts.

In Louis Figuier’s World before the Deluge we are favoured with several highly sensational views of extinct monsters; whilst the pen of Dr. Kinns has furnished valuable information as to the “slimy” nature of their blood!

The late Mr. G. Waterhouse Hawkins (formerly a lithographic artist) was for years occupied in unauthorised restorations of various Secondary reptiles and Tertiary mammals, and about 1853 he received encouragement from Professor Owen to undertake the restorations of extinct animals which still adorn the lower grounds of the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.

But the discoveries of later years have shown that the Dicynodon and Labyrinthodon, instead of being toad-like in form, were lacertilian or salamander-like reptiles, with elongated bodies and moderately long tails; that the Iguanodon did not usually stand upon “all-fours,” but more frequently sat up like some huge kangaroo with short fore limbs; that the horn on its snout was really on its wrist; that the Megalosaurus, with a more slender form of skeleton, had a somewhat similar erect attitude, and the habit, perhaps, of springing upon its prey, holding it with its powerful clawed hands, and tearing it with its formidable carnivorous teeth.

Although the Bernissart Iguanodon has been to us a complete revelation of what a Dinosaur really looked like, it is to America, and chiefly to the discoveries of Marsh, that we owe the knowledge of a whole series of new reptiles and mammals, many of which will be found illustrated within these pages.

Of long and short-tailed Pterodactyles we now know almost complete skeletons and details of their patagia or flying membranes. The discovery of the long-tailed feathered bird with teeth—the Archæopteryx, from the Oolite of Solenhofen, is another marvellous addition to our knowledge; whilst Marsh’s great Hesperornis, a wingless diving bird with teeth, and his flying toothed bird, the Ichthyornis dispar, are to us equally surprising.

Certainly, both in singular forms of fossil reptilia and in early mammals, North America carries off the palm.

Of these the most remarkable are Marsh’s Stegosaurus, a huge torpid reptile, with very small head and teeth, about twenty feet in length, and having a series of flattened dorsal spines, nearly a yard in height, fixed upon the median line of its back; and his Triceratops, another reptile bigger than Stegosaurus, having a huge neck-shield joined to its skull, and horns on its head and snout. Nor do the Eocene mammals fall short of the marvellous, for in Dinoceras we find a beast with six horns, and sword-bayonet tusks, joined to a skeleton like an elephant.

Latest amongst the marvels in modern palæontological discovery has been that made by Professor Fraas of the outline of the skin and fins in Ichthyosaurus tenuirostris, which shows it to have been a veritable shark-like reptile, with a high dorsal fin and broad fish-tail, so that “fish-lizard” is more than ever an appropriate term for these old Liassic marine reptiles.

As every palæontologist is well aware, restorations are ever liable to emendation, and that the present and latest book of extinct monsters will certainly prove no exception to the rule is beyond a doubt, but the author deserves our praise for the very boldness of his attempt, and the honesty with which he has tried to follow nature and avoid exaggeration. Every one will admire the simple and unaffected style in which the author has endeavoured to tell his story, avoiding, as far as possible, all scientific terms, so as to bring it within the intelligence of the unlearned. He has, moreover, taken infinite pains to study up his subject with care, and to consult all the literature bearing upon it. He has thus been enabled to convey accurate information in a simple and pleasing form, and to guide the artist in his difficult task with much wisdom and intelligence. That the excellence of the sketches is due to the artist, Mr. Smit, is a matter of course, and so is the blame, where criticism is legitimate; and no one is more sensible of the difficulties of the task than Mr. Smit himself.

Speaking for myself, I am very well pleased with the series of sketches; and I may say so with the greater ease and freedom from responsibility, as I have had very little to do with them, save in one or two trifling matters of criticism. I may venture, however, to commend them to my friends among the public at large as the happiest set of restorations that has yet appeared.

H. W.

Plate XXIV.

THE LATE SIR RICHARD OWEN AND A SKELETON OF DINORNIS MAXIMUS.
(From a photograph.)

AUTHOR’S PREFACE.

Natural history is deservedly a popular subject. The manifestations of life in all its varied forms is a theme that has never failed to attract all who are not destitute of intelligence. From the days of the primitive cave-dwellers of Europe, who lived with mammoths and other animals now lost to the world; of the ancient Egyptians, who drew and painted on the walls of their magnificent tombs the creatures inhabiting the delta of the Nile; of the Greeks, looking out on the world with their bright and child-like curiosity, down to our own times, this old, yet ever new, theme has never failed. Never before was there such a profusion of books describing the various forms of life inhabiting the different countries of the globe, or the rivers, lakes, and seas that diversify its scenery. Popular writers have done good service in making the way plain for those who wish to acquaint themselves with the structures, habits, and histories of living animals; while for students a still greater supply of excellent manuals and text-books has been, and still continues to be, forthcoming.

But in our admiration for the present we forget the great past. How seldom do we think of that innumerable host of creatures that once trod this earth! How little in comparison has been done for them! Our natural-history books deal only with those that are alive now. Few popular writers have attempted to depict, as on a canvas, the great earth-drama that has, from age to age, been enacted on the terrestrial stage, of which we behold the latest, but probably not the closing scenes.

When our poet wrote “All the world’s a stage,” he thought only of “men and women,” whom he called “merely players,” but the geologist sees a wider application of these words, as he reviews the drama of past life on the globe, and finds that animals, too, have had “their exits and their entrances;” nay more, “the strange eventful history” of a human life, sketched by the master-hand, might well be chosen to illustrate the birth and growth of the tree of life, the development of which we shall briefly trace from time to time, as we proceed on our survey of the larger and more wonderful animals of life that flourished in bygone times.

We might even make out a “seven ages” of the world, in each of which some peculiar form of life stood out prominently, but such a scheme would be artificial.

There is a wealth of material for reconstructing the past that is simply bewildering; and yet little has been done to bring before the public the strange creatures that have perished.[1]

[1] Figuier’s World before the Deluge is hardly a trustworthy book, and is often not up to date. The restorations also are misleading. Professor Dawson’s Story of the Earth and Man is better; but the illustrations are poor. Nicholson’s Life-History of the Earth is a student’s book. Messrs. Cassells' Our Earth and its Story deals with the whole of geology, and so is too diffusive; its ideal landscapes and restorations leave much to be desired.

To the writer it is a matter of astonishment that the discoveries of Marsh, Cope, Leidy, and others in America, not to mention some important European discoveries, should have attracted so little notice in this country. In the far and wild West a host of strange reptiles and quadrupeds have been unearthed from their rocky sepulchres, often of incredibly huge proportions, and, in many cases, more weird and strange than the imagination could conceive; and yet the public have never heard of these discoveries, by the side of which the now well-known “lost creations” of Cuvier, Buckland, or Conybeare sink into the shade. For once, we beg leave to suggest, the hungry pressman, seeking “copy,” has failed to see a good thing. Descriptions of some of “Marsh’s monsters” and how they were found, might, one would think, have proved attractive to a public ever on the look out for something new.

Professor Huxley, comparing our present knowledge of the mammals of the Tertiary era with that of 1859, states that the discoveries of Gaudry, Marsh, and Filhol, are “as if zoologists were to become acquainted with a country hitherto unknown, as rich in novel forms of life as Brazil or South America once were to Europeans.”

The object of this book is to describe some of the larger and more monstrous forms of the past—the lost creations of the old world; to clothe their dry bones with flesh, and suggest for them backgrounds such as are indicated by the discoveries of geology: in other words, to endeavour, by means of pen and pencil, to bring them back to life. The ordinary public cannot learn much by merely gazing at skeletons set up in museums. One longs to cover their nakedness with flesh and skin, and to see them as they were when they walked this earth.

Our present imperfect knowledge renders it difficult in some cases to construct successful restorations; but, nevertheless, the attempt is worth making: and if some who think geology a very dry subject, can be converted to a different opinion on reading these pages, we shall be well rewarded for our trouble.

We venture to hope that those who will take the trouble to peruse this book, or even to look at its pictures, on which much labour and thought have been expended, will find pleasure in visiting the splendid geological collection at Cromwell Road. We have often watched visitors walking somewhat aimlessly among those relics of a former world, and wished that we could be of some service. But, if this little book should help them the better to understand what they see there, our wish will be accomplished.

Another object which the writer has kept in view is to connect the past with the present. It cannot be too strongly urged that the best commentary on the dead past is the living present. It is unfortunate that there is still too great a tendency to separate, as by a great gulf, the dead from the living, the past from the present, forms of life. The result of this is seen in our museums. Fossils have too often been left to the attention of geologists not always well acquainted with the structures of living animals. The more frequent introduction of fossil specimens side by side with modern forms of life would not only be a gain to the progress and spread of geological science, but would be a great help to students of anatomy and natural history. The tree of life is but a mutilated thing, and half its interest is gone, when the dead branches are lopped off.

It is, perhaps, justifiable to give to the term “monster” a somewhat extended meaning. The writer has therefore included in his menagerie of extinct animals one or two creatures which, though not of any great size, are nevertheless remarkable in various ways—such, for instance, as the winged reptiles, and anomalous birds with teeth, of later times, and others. Compared with living forms, these creatures appear to us as “monstrosities,” and may well find a place in our collection.

The author wishes, in a few words, to thank those friends who have rendered him assistance in his task.

Dr. Henry Woodward, F.R.S., Keeper of Geology, Natural History Museum, has from the first taken a lively interest in this little book. He kindly helped the author with his advice on difficult matters, criticising some of the artist’s preliminary sketches and suggesting improvements in the restorations. With unfailing courtesy he has ever been willing, in spite of many demands on his time, to place his knowledge at the disposal of both the author and artist; and in this way certain errors have been avoided. Besides this, he took the trouble to read through the proof-sheets, and made suggestions and corrections which have greatly improved the text. For all this welcome aid the author begs to return his sincere thanks.

To Mr. Smith Woodward, of the Natural History Museum, the author is also much indebted for his kindness in reading through the text and giving valuable information with regard to the latest discoveries.

The artist, Mr. Smit, notwithstanding the novelty of the subject and the difficulties of the task, has thrown himself heartily into the work of making the twenty-four restorations of extinct animals. To him, also, the author is greatly indebted, and considers himself fortunate in having secured the services of so excellent an artist.

To the publishers his thanks are due for their liberality in the matter of illustrations, and the readiness with which they have responded to suggestions.

With regard to minor illustrations the following acknowledgments are due:—

To the Palæontological Society of Great Britain for permission to reproduce three of the illustrations in Sir Richard Owen’s great work, British Fossil Reptiles, published in their yearly volumes, viz. Figs. [3], [4], and [8].

To Messrs. Bell and Co. for the following cuts from the late Dr. Gideon A. Mantell’s works: viz. Figs. [12], [14], [20], [33], [37], [38].

To Messrs. A. and C. Black for the following cuts from Owen’s Palæontology: viz. Figs. [51], [54], [56], [57].

[Appendix IV.] contains a list of some of the works of which the writer has made use; but it would be impossible within reasonable limits to enumerate all the separate papers which have necessarily been consulted. The reader will find numerous references, such as “Case Y on Plan,” in brackets; these refer to the plan given at the end of the excellent little Guide to the Exhibition Galleries in the Department of Geology and Palæontology in the Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road (price one shilling), which visitors to the Museum are advised to obtain.

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

The appearance of a second edition affords the author a pleasant opportunity of thanking the reading public, and the Press, for the kind way in which his endeavour to popularise the results of modern Palæontology has been received. There seem to be fashions in all things—even in sciences; and perhaps the wonderful advances we have witnessed of late years in the physical sciences on the one hand, and in biological sciences on the other, may have tended to throw Palæontology somewhat into the shade. Let us hope that it will not remain there long.

A large number of illustrations have been added for the present edition, besides additional matter here and there in the text. Three of the plates (viz. Plates [II.] [X.] [XV.]) have been redrawn. [Plate II.] shows the Ichthyosaurus as interpreted by the latest discovery from Würtemberg. [Plate X.]. gives a somewhat different interpretation of the Stegosaurus, suggested by some remarks of Mr. Lydekker.

A slight change will be noticed in [Plate XV.]. (Brontops). [Plate XVII.]. is a great improvement on the old drawing (Fig. 28, old edition) of the Megatherium skeleton. Plate XXIV., besides containing a valuable portrait of the late Sir Richard Owen, gives another drawing of the Dinornis skeleton.

April, 1893.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

LIST OF FIGURES IN TEXT.

EXTINCT MONSTERS.

INTRODUCTION.

“The earth hath gathered to her breast again
And yet again, the millions that were born
Of her unnumbered, unremembered tribes.”

Let us see if we can get some glimpses of the primæval inhabitants of the world, that lived and died while as yet there were no men and women having authority over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of the air.

We shall, perhaps, find this antique world quite as strange as the fairy-land of Grimm or Lewis Carroll. True, it was not inhabited by “slithy toves” or “jabber-wocks,” but by real beasts, of whose shapes, sizes, and habits much is already known—a good deal more than might at first be supposed. And yet, real as it all is, this antique world—this panorama of scenes that have for ever passed away—is a veritable fairy-land. In those days of which geologists tell us, the principal parts were played, not by kings and queens, but by creatures many of which were very unlike those we see around us now. And yet it is no fairy-land after all, where impossible things happen, and where impossible dragons figure largely; but only the same old world in which you and I were born. Everything you will see here is quite true. All these monsters once lived. Truth is stranger than fiction; and perhaps we shall enjoy our visit to this fairy-land all the more for that reason. For not even the dragons supposed to have been slain by armed knights in old times, when people gave ear to any tale, however extravagant, could equal in size or strength the real dragons we shall presently meet with, whose actual bones may be seen in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington.

Many people who visit this great museum and find their way to the geological galleries on the right, pass hastily by the cases of bones, teeth, and skeletons. These things, it seems, fail to interest them. They do not know how to interpret them. They cannot picture to themselves the kinds of creatures to which the relics once belonged; and so they pass them by and presently go to the more attractive collection of stuffed birds on the other side. There they see the feathered tribes of the air all beautifully arranged; some poised in the air by almost invisible wires; some perched on branches: but all surrounded by grass, flowers, and natural objects, imitated with marvellous reality, so that they see the birds as they really are in nature, and can almost fancy they hear them singing.

Now, it has often occurred to the present writer that something more might be done for the long-neglected “lost creations” of the world, to bring them out of their obscurity, that they may be made to tell to the passer-by their wondrous story. We can, however, well imagine some of our readers asking, “Can these dry bones live?” “Yes,” we would say, “they can be made to live; reason and imagination will, if we give them proper play, provide us eyes wherewith to see the world’s lost creations.” To such men as Cuvier, Owen, Huxley, and others, these dry bones do live. It will be our object to describe to the reader some of the wonderful results that have rewarded the lifelong labours of such great men. We shall take some of the largest and strangest forms of life that once lived, and try to picture them as they really were when alive, whether walking on land, swimming in the sea, or flying in the air; to understand the meanings of their more obvious structures; and to form some conclusions with regard to their habits, as well as to find out, if possible, their relations,—as far as such questions have been answered by those most qualified to settle these difficult matters.

All technical details, such as the general reader is unfamiliar with, will be as far as possible suppressed. Let us fancy a long procession of extinct monsters passing in single file before us, and ourselves endeavouring to pick out their “points” as they present themselves to the eye of imagination. It is not, be it remembered, mere imagination that guides the man of science in such matters, for all his conclusions are carefully based on reason; and when conclusions are given, we shall endeavour to show how they have been arrived at.

For millions of years countless multitudes of living animals have played their little parts on the earth and passed away, to be buried up in the oozy beds of the seas of old time, or entombed with the leaves that sank in the waters of primæval lakes. The majority of these perished beyond all recovery, leaving not a trace behind; yet a vast number of fossilised remains have been, in various ways, preserved; sometimes almost as completely as if Dame Nature had thoughtfully embalmed them for our instruction and delight.

Down in those old seas and lakes she kept her great museum, in order to preserve for us a selection of her treasures. In course of time she slowly raised up sea-beds and lake-bottoms to make them into dry land. This museum is everywhere around us. We have but to enter quarries and railway cuttings, or to search in coal-mines, or under cliffs at the sea-side, and we can consult her records. As the ancient Egyptians built tombs, pyramids, and temples, from which we may learn their manner of life and partly read their history, so Nature has entombed, not one race only, but many races of the children of life. Her records are written in strange hieroglyphs, yet it is not difficult to interpret their meaning; and thus many an old story, many an old scene, may be pictured in the mind of man.

Shall we call this earth-drama a tragedy or a comedy? Doubtless tragic scenes occurred at times; as, for instance, when fierce creatures engaged in deadly combat: and probably amusing, if not comic, incidents took place occasionally, such as might have provoked us to laughter, had we been there to see them. But let us simply call it a drama. Backgrounds of scenery were not wanting. Then, as now, the surface of the earth was clothed with vegetation, and strange cattle pastured on grassy plains. Vegetation was at times very luxuriant. The forests of the coal period, with their giant reeds and club-moss trees, must have made a strange picture. Then, as now, there rose up from the plains lofty ranges of mountains, reaching to the clouds, their summits clothed with the eternal snows. These, too, played their part, feeding the streams and the rivers that meandered over the plains, bringing life and fertility with them, as they do now. The sun shone and the wind blew: sometimes gently, so that the leaves just whispered in an evening breeze; at other times so violently that the giants of the forest swayed to and fro, and the seas lashed themselves furiously against rocky coasts. Nor were the underground forces of the earth less active than they are now: volcanic eruptions often took place on a magnificent scale; volcanoes poured out fiery lava streams for leagues beneath their feet; great showers of ashes and fine dust were ejected in the air, so that the sun was darkened for a time, and the surface of the sea was covered for many miles with floating pumice and volcanic dust, which in time sank to the bottom, and was made into hard rock, such as we now find on the top of Snowdon.

Earthquake shocks were quite as frequent, and no doubt the ground swayed to and fro, or was rent open as some unusually great earth-movement took place, and perhaps a mountain range was raised several feet or yards higher. All this we learn from the testimony of the rocks beneath our feet. It only requires the use of a little imagination to conjure up scenes of the past, and paint them as on a moving diorama.

We shall not, however, dwell at any length on the scenery, or the vegetation that clothed the landscape at different periods; for these features are sufficiently indicated in the beautiful drawings of extinct animals by our artist, Mr. J. Smit.

The researches of the illustrious Baron Cuvier, at Paris, as embodied in his great work, Ossemens Fossiles, gave a great impetus to the study of organic remains. It was he who laid the foundations of the science of Palæontology,[2] which, though much has already been accomplished, yet has a great future before it. Agassiz, Owen, Huxley, Marsh, Cope, and others, following in his footsteps, have greatly extended its boundaries; but he was the pioneer.

[2] Palæontology is the science which treats of the living beings, whether animal or vegetable, which have inhabited this globe at past periods in its history. (Greek—palaios, ancient; onta, beings; logos, discourse.)

Before his time fossil forms were very little known, and still less understood. His researches, especially among vertebrates, or backboned animals, revealed an altogether undreamed-of wealth of entombed remains. It is true the old and absurd notion that fossils were mere “sports of Nature,” sometimes bearing more or less resemblance to living animals, but still only an accidental (!) resemblance, had been abandoned by Leibnitz, Buffon, and Pallas; and that Daubenton had actually compared the fossil bones of quadrupeds with those of living forms; while Camper declared his opinion that some of these remains belonged to extinct species of quadrupeds.

It is to Cuvier, however, that the world owes the first systematic application of the science of comparative anatomy, which he himself had done so much to place on a sound basis, to the study of the bones of fossil animals. He paid great attention to the relative shapes of animals, and the different developments of the same kind of bones in various animals, and especially to the nature of their teeth. So great did his experience and knowledge become, that he rarely failed in naming an animal from a part of its skeleton. He appreciated more clearly than others before him the mutual dependence of the various parts of an animal’s organisation. “The organism,” he said, “forms a connected unity, in which the single parts cannot change without modifications in the other parts.”

It will hardly be necessary to give examples of this now well-known truth; but, just to take one case: the elephant has a long proboscis with which it can reach the ground, and consequently its neck is quite short; but take away the long proboscis, and you would seriously interfere with the relation of various parts of its structure to each other. How, then, could it reach or pick up anything lying on the ground? Other changes would have to follow: either its legs would require to be shortened, or its neck to be lengthened. In every animal, as in a complex machine, there is a mutual dependence of the different parts.

As he progressed in these studies, Cuvier was able with considerable success to restore extinct animals from their fossilised remains, to discover their habits and manner of life, and to point out their nearest living ally. To him we owe the first complete demonstration of the possibility of restoring an extinct animal. His “Law of Correlation” however, has been found to be not infallible; as Professor Huxley has shown, it has exceptions. It expresses our experience among living animals, but, when applied to the more ancient types of life, is liable to be misleading.

To take one out of many examples of this law: Carnivorous animals, such as cats, lions, and tigers, have claws in their feet, very different from the hoofs of an ox, which is herbivorous; while the teeth of the former group are very different to those of the latter. Thus the teeth and limbs have a certain definite relation to each other, or, in other words, are correlated. Again, horned quadrupeds are all herbivorous (or graminivorous), and have hoofs to their feet. The following amusing anecdote serves to illustrate Cuvier’s law. One of his students thought he would try and frighten his master, and, having dressed up as a wild beast, entered Cuvier’s bedroom by night, and, presenting himself by his bedside, said in hollow tones, “Cuvier, Cuvier, I’ve come to eat you!” The great naturalist, who on waking up was able to discern something with horns and hoofs, simply remarked, “What! horns, hoofs—graminivorous—you can’t!” What better lesson could the master have given the pupil to help him to remember his "Law of Correlation"?

Cuvier’s great work, entitled Ossemens Fossiles, will long remain an imperishable monument of the genius and industry of the greatest pioneer in this region of investigation. This work proved beyond a doubt to his astonished contemporaries the great antiquity of the tribes of animals now living on the surface of the earth. It proved more than that, however; for it showed the existence of a great philosophy in Nature which linked the past with the present in a scheme that pointed to a continuity of life during untold previous ages. All this was directly at variance with the prevalent ideas of his time, and consequently his views were regarded by many with alarm, and he received a good deal of abuse—a fate which many other original thinkers before him have shared.

It is somewhat difficult for people living now, and accustomed to modern teaching, to realise how novel were the conclusions announced by Cuvier. In his Discourse on the Revolutions of the Surface of the Globe, translated into most European languages under the title Theory of the Earth, he lays down, among others, the two following propositions:—

1. That all organised existences were not created at the same time; but at different times, probably very remote from each other—vegetables before animals, mollusca and fishes before reptiles, and the latter before mammals.

2. That fossil remains in the more recent strata are those which approach nearest to the present type of corresponding living species.

Teaching such as this gave a new impetus to the study of organic remains, and Palæontology, as a science, began with Cuvier.

CHAPTER I.

HOW EXTINCT MONSTERS ARE PRESERVED.

“Geology, beyond almost every other science, offers fields of research adapted to all capacities and to every condition and circumstance of life in which we may be placed. For while some of its phenomena require the highest intellectual powers, and the greatest attainments in abstract science for their successful investigation, many of its problems may be solved by the most ordinary intellect, and facts replete with the deepest interest may be gleaned by the most casual observer.”—Mantell.

Let us suppose we are visiting a geological museum for the first time, passing along from one department to another with ever-increasing wonder—now admiring the beautiful polished marbles from Devonshire, with their delicate corals, or the wonderful fishes from the Old Red Sandstone, with their plates of enamel; now the delicate shells and ammonites from the Lias or Oolites, with their pearly lustre still preserved; now the white fresh-looking shells from the Isle of Wight; now the ponderous bones and big teeth of ancient monsters from the Wealden beds of Sussex. The question might naturally occur, “How were all these creatures preserved from destruction and decay, and sealed up so securely that it is difficult to believe they are as old as the geologists tell us they are?” It will be worth our while to consider this before we pass on to describe the creatures themselves.

Now, in the first place, “fossils” are not always “petrifactions,” as some people seem to think; that is to say, they are not all turned into stone. This is true in many cases, no doubt, yet one frequently comes across the remains of plants and animals that have undergone very little change, and have, as it were, been simply sealed up. The state of a fossil depends on several circumstances, such as the soil, mud, or other medium in which it may happen to be preserved. Again, the newest, or most recent, fossils are generally the least altered. We have fossils of all ages, and in all states of preservation. As examples of fossils very little altered, we may take the case of the wonderful collection of bones discovered by Professor Boyd Dawkins in caves in various parts of Great Britain. The results of many years of research are given in his most interesting book on Cave-Hunting. This enthusiastic explorer and geologist has discovered the remains of a great many animals, some of which are quite extinct, while others are still living in this country. These remains belong to a late period, when lions, tigers, cave-bears, wolves, hyænas, and reindeer inhabited our country. In some cases the caves were the dens of hyænas, who brought their prey into caverns in our limestone rocks, to devour them at their leisure; for the marks of their teeth may yet be seen on the bones. In other cases the bones seem to have been washed into the caves by old streams that have ceased to run; but in all cases they are fairly fresh, though often stained by iron-rust brought in by water that has dissolved iron out of various rocks—for iron is a substance met with almost everywhere in nature. Sometimes they are buried up in a layer of soil, or “cave-earth,” and at other times in a layer of stalagmite—a deposit of carbonate of lime gradually formed on the floors of caves by the evaporation of water charged with carbonate of lime.

Air and water are great destroyers of animal and vegetable substances from which life has departed. The autumn leaves that fall by the wayside soon undergo change, and become at last separated or resolved into their original elements. In the same way when any wild animal, such as a bird or rabbit, dies in an exposed place, its flesh decays under the influence of rain and wind, so that before long nothing but dry bones is left. Hamlet’s wish that this “too too solid flesh would melt” is soon realised after death; and that active chemical element in the air known as oxygen, in breathing which we live, has a tenfold power over dead matter, slowly causing chemical actions somewhat similar to those that take place in a burning candle, whereby decaying flesh is converted into water-vapour and carbonic acid gas. Thus we see that oxygen not only supports life, but breaks up into simpler forms the unwholesome and dangerous products of decaying matter, thus keeping the atmosphere sweet and pure; but in time, even the dry bones of the bird or rabbit, though able for a longer period to resist the attacks of the atmosphere, crumble into dust, and serve to fertilise the soil that once supported them.

Now, if water and air be excluded, it is wonderful how long even the most perishable things may be preserved from this otherwise universal decay. In the Edinburgh museum of antiquities may be seen an old wooden cask of butter that has lain for centuries in peat—which substance has a curiously preservative power; and human bodies have been dug out of Irish peat with the flesh well preserved, which, from the nature of the costume worn by the person, we can tell to be very ancient. Meat packed in tins, so as to be entirely excluded from the air, may be kept a very long time, and will be found to be quite fresh and fit for use.

But air and water have a way of penetrating into all sorts of places, so that in nature they are almost everywhere. Water can slowly filter through even the hardest rocks, and since it contains dissolved air, it causes the decay of animal or vegetable substances. Take the case of a dead leaf falling into a lake, or some quiet pool in a river. It sinks to the bottom, and is buried up in gravel, mud, or sand. Now, our leaf will stand a very poor chance of preservation on a sandy or gravelly bottom, because these materials, being porous, allow the water to pass through them easily. But if it settles down on fine mud it may be covered up and become a fossil. In time the soft mud will harden into clay or shale, retaining a delicate impression of the leaf; and even after thousands of years, the brown body of the leaf will be there, only partly changed. In the case of the plants found in coal, the lapse of ages since they were buried up has been so great (and the strata have been so affected by the great pressure and by the earth’s internal heat) that certain chemical changes have converted leaves and stems into carbon and some of its compounds, much in the same way that, if you heat wood in a closed vessel, you convert it into charcoal, which is mostly carbon. The coal we burn in our fires is entirely of vegetable origin, and every seam in a coal-mine is a buried forest of trees, ferns, reeds, and other plants.

The reader will understand how it is that rocks composed of hardened sand or gravel, sandstones and conglomerates, contain but few fossils; while, on the other hand, such rocks as clay, shale, slate, and limestone often abound in fossils, because they are formed of what was once soft mud, that sealed up and protected corals, shell-fish, sea-urchins, fishes, and other marine animals. Had they been covered up in sand the chances are that percolating water would have slowly dissolved the shells and corals, the hard coats of the crabs, and the bones of the fishes, all of which are composed of carbonate of lime; and we know that is a substance easily dissolved by water.

It is in the rocks formed during the later geological periods that we find fossils least changed from their original state; for time works great changes, and too little time has elapsed since those periods for any considerable alterations to have taken place. But when we come to examine some of the earlier rocks, which have been acted upon in various ways for long periods of time, such as the pressure of vast piles of overlying rocks, and the percolation of water charged with mineral substances (water sometimes warmed by the earth’s internal heat), then we may expect to find the remains of the world’s lost creations in a much more mineralised condition. Every fossil-collector must be familiar with examples of changes of this kind. For instance, shells originally composed of carbonate of lime are often found to have been turned into flint or silica. Another curious change is illustrated in the case of a stratum found in Cambridgeshire and other counties. In this remarkable layer, only about a foot in thickness, one frequently finds bones and teeth of fishes and reptiles. These, however, have all undergone a curious change, whereby they have been converted into phosphate of lime—a compound of phosphorus and lime. It abounds in “nodules,” or lumps, of this substance, which, along with thousands of fossils, are every year ground up and converted by a chemical process into valuable artificial manure for the farmer.

The soft parts of animals, as we have said before, cannot be preserved in a fossil state; but, as if to compensate for this loss, we sometimes meet with the most faithful and delicate impressions. Thus, cuttle-fishes have, in some instances, left, on the clays which buried them up, impressions of their soft, long arms, or tentacles, and, as the mud hardened into solid rock, the impressions are fixed imperishably. Examples of these interesting records may be seen at the Natural History Museum at South Kensington. Even soft jelly-fishes have left their mark on certain rocks! At a place in Bavaria, called Solenhofen, there is a remarkably fine-grained limestone containing a multitude of wonderful impressions. This stone is well known to lithographers, and is largely used in printing. On it the oldest known bird has left its skeleton and faithful impressions of its feathers.

The footprints of birds and reptiles are by no means uncommon. Such records are most valuable, for a great deal may be learned from even a footprint as to the nature of the animal that made it (see [p. 79]).

Since the greater number of animals described in this book are reptiles, quadrupeds, and other inhabitants of the land, and only a few had their home in the sea, we must endeavour to try and understand how their remains may have been preserved. Our object in writing this book is to interpret their story, and, as it were, to bring them to life again. Each one must be made to tell its own story, and that story will be far from complete if we cannot form some idea of how it found its way into a watery grave, and so was added to Nature’s museum. For this purpose we must briefly explain to the reader how the rocks we see around us have been deposited; for these rocks are the tombs in which lost creations lie.

Go into any ordinary quarry, where the men are at work, getting out the stone in blocks to be used in building, or for use on the roads, or for some other purpose, and you will be pretty sure to notice at the first glance that the rock is arranged as if it had been built up in layers. Now, this is true of all rocks that have been laid down by the agency of water—as most of them have been. True, there are exceptions, but every rule has its exceptions. If you went into a granite quarry at Aberdeen, or a basalt quarry near Edinburgh, you would not see these layers; but such rocks as these do not contain fossils. They have been mainly formed by the action of great heat, and were forced up to the surface of the earth by pressure from below. As they slowly cooled, the mineral substances of which they were formed gradually crystallised; and it is this crystalline state, together with the signs of movement, that tells us of their once heated state. Such rocks are said to be of igneous origin (Lat. ignis, fire). But nearly all the other rocks were formed by the action of water—that is, under water,—and hence are known to geologists as aqueous deposits (Lat. aqua, water). They may be considered as sediments that slowly settled down in seas, lakes, or at the mouths of rivers. Such deposits are in the course of being formed at the present day. All round our coasts mud, sand, and gravel are being accumulated, layer by layer. These materials are constantly being swept off the land by the action of rain and rivers, and carried down to the sea. Perhaps, when staying at the sea-side, you may have noticed, after rainy and rough weather, how the sea, for some distance from the shore, is discoloured with mud—especially at the mouth of a river. The sand, being heavy, soon sinks down, and this is the reason why sand-bars so frequently block the entrance to rivers. Then again, the waves of the sea beat against the sea-shore and undermine the cliffs, bringing down great fragments, which after a time are completely broken up and worn down into rounded pebbles, or even fine sand and mud. It is very easy to see that in this way large quantities of sand, gravel, and mud are continually supplied to our seas. We can picture how they will settle down; the sand not far from the shore, and the fine mud further out to sea. When the rough weather ceases, the river becomes smaller and flows less rapidly, so that when the coarse débris of the land has settled down to form layers, or strata, of sand and gravel, then the fine mud will begin to settle down also, and will form a layer overlying them or further out. Thus we learn, from a little observation of what is now going on, how layers of sand and mud, such as we see in a quarry, were made thousands and thousands of years ago.

When we think of all the big rivers and small streams continually flowing into the sea, we shall begin to realise what a great work rain and rivers are doing in making the rocks of the future. If, at a later period, a slight upheaval of the sea-bed were to take place so as to bring it above water, and such is very likely, these materials would be found neatly arranged in layers, and more or less hardened into solid rock.

The reader may, perhaps, find it rather hard at first to realise that in this simple way vast deposits of rock are being formed in the seas of the present day, and that the finer material thus derived from a continent may be carried by ocean currents to great distances; but so it is. Over thousands of square miles of ocean, deposits are being gradually accumulated which will doubtless be some day turned into hard rock. Just to take one example: it has been found that in the Atlantic Ocean, a distance of over two hundred miles from the mouth of that great river, the Amazon, the sea is discoloured by fine sediment.

There is another kind of rock frequently met with, the building up of which cannot be explained in the way we have pointed out; and that is limestone. This rock has not been deposited as a sediment, like clays and sandstones, but geologists have good reasons for believing that it has been gradually formed in the deeper and clearer parts of oceans by the slow accumulation of marine shells, corals, and other creatures, whose bodies are partly composed of carbonate of lime. This seems incredible at first, but the proofs are quite convincing.[3] As Professor Huxley well remarked, there is as good evidence that chalk has been built up by the accumulation of minute shells as that the Pyramids were built by the ancient Egyptians.

[3] See The Autobiography of the Earth, p. 223.

The science of geology reveals the startling fact that all the great series of the stratified rocks, whose united thickness is over 80,000 feet, has been mainly accumulated under water, either by the action of those powerful geological agents—rain and rivers—or through the agency of myriads of tiny marine animals. When we have grasped this idea, we have learned our first, and, perhaps, most useful lesson in geology.

Now let us apply what has been above explained to the question immediately before us. We want to know how the skeletons of animals living on land came to be buried up under water, among the stratified rocks that are to be seen all over our country, and most of which were made under the sea.

We can answer this question by going to Nature herself, in order to find out what is actually going on at the present time, by inquiring into the habits of land animals, their surroundings, and the accidents to which they are liable at sundry times and in divers manners. It is by this simple method of studying present actions that nearly all difficult questions in geology may be solved. The leading principle of the geologist is to interpret the past by the light of the present, or, in other words, to find out what happens now, in order to learn what took place ages ago; for it is clear that the world has been going on in the same way for at least as far back as geological history can take us. There has been a uniformity, or sameness, in Nature’s actions ever since living things first dwelt on the earth.

Just as rivers are mainly responsible for bringing down to the sea the materials of which rocks are made, so these universal carrying agents are the means by which the bodies of many animals that live in the plains, over which they wander, are brought to their last resting-place. We have only to consult the records of great floods to see what fearful havoc they sometimes make among living things, and how the dead bodies are swept away.

Great floods rise rapidly, so that the herds of wild animals pasturing on grassy plains are surprised by the rising waters, and, being unable to withstand the force of the water, are hurried along, and so drowned. When dead they sink to the bottom, and may, in some cases, be buried up in the débris hurried along by the river; but as a rule their bodies, being swollen by the gases formed by decomposing flesh, rise again to the surface, and consequently may be carried along for many a mile, till they reach some lake, or perhaps right down to the mouth of a river, and so may be taken out to sea.

One or two examples will be given to show how important is the action of such floods. Sir Charles Lyell has given some striking illustrations of this. There was a memorable flood in the southern borders of Scotland on the 24th of June, 1794, which caused great destruction in the region of the Solway Firth. Heavy rains had fallen, so that every stream entering the firth was greatly swollen. Not only sheep and cattle, but even herdsmen and shepherds were drowned. When the flood had subsided, a fearful spectacle was seen on a large sand-bank, called “the beds of Esk,” where the waters meet; for on this one bank were found collected together the bodies of 9 black cattle, 3 horses, 1840 sheep, 45 dogs, 180 hares, together with those of many smaller animals, also the corpses of two men and one woman.

Humboldt, the celebrated traveller, says that when, at certain seasons, the large rivers of South America are swollen by heavy rains, great numbers of quadrupeds are drowned every year. Troops of wild horses that graze in the “savannahs,” or grassy plains, are said to be swept away in thousands.

In Java, in the year 1699, Batavian River was flooded during an earthquake, and drowned buffaloes, tigers, rhinoceroses, deer, apes, crocodiles, and other wild beasts, which were brought down to the coast by the current.

In tropical countries, where very heavy rains fall at times, and rivers become rapidly swollen, floods are a great source of danger to man and beast. Probably the greater number of the bodies of animals thus drowned find their way into lakes, through which rivers flow, and never reach the sea; and if the growth of sediment in such lakes goes on fairly rapidly, their remains may be buried up, and so preserved. But in many cases the bones fall one by one from the floating carcase, and so may in that way be scattered at random over the bottom of the lake, or the bed of a river at its mouth. In hot countries such bodies, on reaching the sea, run a great chance of being instantly devoured by sharks, alligators, and other carnivorous animals. But during very heavy floods, the waters that reach the sea are so heavily laden with mud, that these predaceous animals are obliged to retire to some place where the waters are clear, so that at such times the dead bodies are more likely to escape their ravages; and, at the same time, the mud with which the waters are charged falls so rapidly that it may quickly cover them up. We shall find further on that this explanation probably applies to the case of the “fish-lizards,” whose remains are found in the Lias formation (see [p. 51]).

But, for several reasons, sedimentary rocks formed in lakes are much more likely to contain the remains of land animals, than those that were formed in seas, and they are more likely to be in a complete state of preservation. Within the last century, five or six small lakes in Scotland, which had been artificially drained, yielded the remains of several hundred skeletons of stags, oxen, boars, horses, sheep, dogs, hares, foxes, and wolves. There are two ways in which these animals may have met with a watery grave. In the first place, they may have got mired on going into the water, or in trying to land on the other side, after swimming across. Any one who knows Scotch lakes will be familiar with the fact that their margins are often most treacherous ground for bathers. The writer has more than once found it necessary to be very cautious on wading into a lake while fishing, or in search of plants. Secondly, when such lakes are frozen over in winter, the ice is often very treacherous in consequence of numerous springs; and animals attempting to cross may be easily drowned. No remains of birds were discovered in these lakes, in spite of the fact that, until drained, they were largely frequented by water-fowl. But it must be remembered that birds are protected by their powers of flight from perishing in such ways as other animals frequently do. And, even should they die on the water, their bodies are not likely to be submerged; for, being light and feathery, they do not sink, but continue floating until the body rots away, or is devoured by some creature such as a hungry pike. For these reasons the remains of birds are unfortunately very rare in the stratified rocks; and hence our knowledge of the bird life of former ages is slight.

The Imperfection of the Record.

A very little consideration will serve to convince us that the record which Nature has kept in the stratified rocks is an incomplete one. There are many reasons why it must be so. It is not to be expected that these rocks should contain anything like a complete collection of the remains of the various tribes of plants and animals that from time to time have flourished in seas, lakes, and estuaries, or on islands and continents of the world. In endeavouring to trace the course of life on the globe at successive periods, we are continually met by want of evidence due to the “imperfection of the record”—to use Darwin’s phrase. The reasons are not far to seek. The preservation of organic remains, or even of impressions thereof, in sedimentary strata is, to some extent, a matter of chance. It is obvious that no wholly soft creature, such as a jelly-fish, can be preserved; although on some strata they have left impressions telling of their existence at a very early period.

A creature, to become fossilised, must possess some hard part, such as a shell, e.g. an oyster (fossil oysters abound in some strata); or a hard chitinous covering, like that of the shrimp, or the trilobites of Silurian times; or a skeleton, such as all the backboned (vertebrate) animals possess.

But even creatures that had skeletons have not by any means always been preserved. Bones, when left on the bottom of the sea, where no sediment, or very little, is forming, will decay, and so disappear altogether. As Darwin points out, we are in error in supposing that over the greater part of the ocean-bed of the present day sediment is deposited fast enough to seal up organic remains before they can decay. Over a large part of the ocean-bed such cannot be the case; and this conclusion has, of late years, been confirmed by the observations made during the fruitful voyage of H.M.S. Challenger in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.

Again, even in shallower parts of the old seas, where sand or mud was once deposited, fossilisation was somewhat accidental; for some materials, being porous, allow of the percolation of water, and in this way shells, bones, etc., have been dissolved and lost. Thus sandstone strata are always barren in fossils compared to shales and limestones, which are much less pervious. To take examples from our own country, the New Red Sandstone of the south-west of England, the midland counties, Cheshire, and other parts contains very few fossils indeed, while the clays and limestones of the succeeding Lias period abound in organic remains of all sorts. Even insects have left delicate impressions of their wings and bodies! while shells, corals, encrinites, fish-teeth, and bones of saurians are found in great numbers.

Again, it must be borne in mind that the series of stratified rocks known to geologists is not complete or unbroken. They have been well compared to the leaves of a book on history, of which whole chapters and many separate pages have been torn out. These gaps, or “breaks,” are due to what is called “denudation;” that is to say, a great many rocks, after having been slowly deposited in water, have been upraised to form dry land, and then, being subjected for ages to the destroying action of “rain and rivers,” or the waves of the sea, have been largely destroyed. Such rocks, in the language of geology, have been “denuded;” that is, stripped off, so that the underlying rocks are left bare.

But the process of rock-making does not go on continuously in any one area. Sedimentary strata have been formed in slowly sinking areas. But, if subsidence ceases, and the downward movement becomes an upward one, then the bed of the sea is converted into dry land, and the geological record is broken; for aqueous strata do not form on dry land. Blown sands and terrestrial lava-flows are exceptions; but such accumulations are very small and insignificant, and may therefore be neglected, especially as they contain no fossils.

In this way, as well as by the process of “denudation” already alluded to, breaks occur; and these breaks often represent long intervals of time. There are several such gaps in the British series of stratified rocks; and it is partly by means of these breaks, during which important geographical and other changes took place, that sedimentary rocks have been classified and arranged in groups representing geological periods. Thus, the Cainozoic, or Tertiary, rocks of the Thames' basin are separated by a long “break” from those of the preceding Cretaceous period. During that interval great changes in animal life took place, whereby, in the course of evolution, new types appeared on the scene. (See [Table of Strata, Appendix I].)

Another cause interfering with the record is to be found in those important internal changes that have taken place in stratified rocks—often over large areas—which may be ascribed to the influence of heat and pressure combined. This process of change, whereby soft deposits have been altered or “metamorphosed” into hard crystalline rocks, is known as “metamorphism.” Metamorphic rocks have lost not only their original structure and appearance, but also their included organic remains, or fossils. Thus, when a soft limestone has been converted by these means into crystalline statuary marble, any fossils it may once have contained have been destroyed. It is true that this applies more to older and lower deposits,—for the lowest are the oldest—but there can be no doubt that valuable records of the forms of life which peopled the world in former periods have been lost by this means.

And lastly, it must ever be borne in mind that, as yet, our knowledge of the stratified rocks of the earth’s crust is very limited. In course of time, no doubt, this deficiency will be to a great extent made good; but it will take a long time. Already, within the last thirty years, the labours of zealous geologists in the colonies and in various countries have added largely to our knowledge of the geological record. Still, only a small portion of the earth’s surface has at present been explored; and doubtless one may look forward to future discoveries of extinct forms of animal and plant life as wonderful and strange as those that have been of late years unearthed in the “far West,” in Africa, and India. The Siwalik Hills of Northern India offer a rich harvest of fossils to future explorers. Already, one remarkable and large horned quadruped has come from this region; and it is known that other valuable treasures are sealed up within these hills, only awaiting the “open sesame” of some enterprising explorer to bring them to light.

As previously pointed out, deposits formed in lakes are the most promising field for geologists in search of the remains of old terrestrial quadrupeds and reptiles; but, unfortunately, such deposits are rare.

It is very much to be regretted that the carelessness and indifference of ignorant workmen in quarries, clay-pits, and railway cuttings have sometimes been the cause of valuable fossils being broken up, and so lost for ever. Unless they are accustomed to the visits of fossil-collectors who will pay them liberally for their finds, the men will not take the trouble to preserve any bones they may come across in the course of their work. (An example of this negligence will be found on [p. 95].) But when once they realise that such finds have what political economists call an “exchange value,” or, in other words, can be turned into money, it is astonishing what zealous guardians of Nature’s treasures they become! For this reason collectors often find what Professor Bonney calls the “silver hammer”—in other words, cash—more effective than the iron implement they carry with them.

CHAPTER II.

SEA-SCORPIONS.

“And some rin up the hill and down dale, knapping the chucky stanes to pieces wi' hammers like sae many road-makers run daft. They say ’tis to see how the warld was made.”—St. Ronan’s Well.

Our first group of monsters is taken from a tribe of armed warriors that lived in the seas of a very ancient period in the world’s history. Like the crabs and lobsters inhabiting the coasts of Britain, they possessed a coat of armour, and jointed bodies, supplied with limbs for crawling, swimming, or seizing their prey. They were giants in their day, far eclipsing in size any of their relations that have lived on to the present time. Some of them, such as the Pterygotus ([Fig. 1, p. 26]), attained a length of nearly six feet. They belonged to the humbler ranks of life, and, if now living, would without doubt be assigned, by fishmongers ignorant of natural history, to that vague category of “shell-fish” in which they include crabs, lobsters, mussels, etc.

These lobster-like creatures, though claiming no relationship with the higher ranks of animals, may well engage our attention, not only for their great size, but also for their strange build.

Plate I.

SEA-SCORPIONS.

There are no living creatures quite like them. Certainly they are not true lobsters, and yet we may consider them to be first or second cousins of those ten-footed crustaceans[4] of the present day—lobsters, crabs, and shrimps, so welcome on the tables of both rich and poor. Some naturalists say that their nearest relations at the present day are the king-crabs inhabiting the China seas and the east coast of North America; and there certainly are some points of resemblance between them. Others say that they are related to scorpions, and for this reason we call them Sea-scorpions. (See [Plate I.].)

[4] Crustaceans are a class of jointed creatures (articulate animals), possessing a hard shell or crust (Lat. crusta), which they cast periodically. They all breathe by gills.

The first feature we notice in these creatures is the way in which their bodies and limbs are divided into rings or joints. This fact tells us that they belong to that great division of animals called “Articulates,” of which crabs, lobsters, spiders, centipedes, and insects are examples. The celebrated Linnæus called them all insects, because their bodies are in this way cut into divisions.[5] But this arrangement has since been abandoned. However, they are all built upon this simple plan, their bodies being like a series of rings, to which are attached paired appendages or limbs, also composed of rings, some longer and some shorter. Now, there must be something very fitting and appropriate in this arrangement, for the creatures that are thus built up are far more numerous than any other group of animals. They must be particularly well qualified to fight the battle of life; for like a victorious army they have taken the world by storm, and still remain in possession. We find them everywhere—in seas, rivers, and lakes; in fields and forests; in the soil, and in all sorts of nooks and crannies; in the air, and even upon or inside the bodies of other animals. Some of them, such as ants, bees, and wasps, show an intelligence that is simply marvellous, and have acquired social habits which excite our admiration.

[5] Lat. in, into, and secta, cut.

Articulate animals are a very ancient race, as well as a flourishing one, for the oldest rocks containing undoubted fossils—namely, certain slates found in Wales and the Lake District—tell us of a time when shallow seas swarmed with little articulate animals known as trilobites. They were in appearance something like wood-lice of the present day; and the record of the rocks tells us plainly that creatures built upon this plan have flourished ever since. We mention this because they are related to the king-crabs of the present day, and therefore to the huge old-fashioned sea-scorpions we are now considering.

Fig. 1.—Pterygotus anglicus.
1. Upper side. 2. Under side.
(After Woodward.)

The best-known and largest of these creatures is represented in [Fig. 1]. It has received the name Pterygotus (or wing-eared) from certain fanciful resemblances pointed out by the quarrymen. It was first discovered, along with others of its kind, by Hugh Miller, at Carmylie in Forfarshire, in a certain part of the Old Red Sandstone (see [Table of Strata, Appendix I].) known as the Arbroath paving-stone. The quarrymen, in the course of their work, came upon and dug out large pieces of the fossilised remains of this creature. Its hard coat of jointed armour bore on its surface curious wavy markings that suggested to their minds the sculptured feathers on the wings of cherubs—of all subjects of the chisel the most common. Hence they christened these remains “Seraphim.” They did not succeed in getting complete specimens that could be pieced together; and the part to which this fanciful name was given turned out to be part of the under side below the mouth. It was composed of several large plates, two of which are not unlike the wings of a cherub in shape. Hugh Miller says in his classic work, The Old Red Sandstone—“the form altogether, from its wing-like appearance, its feathery markings, and its angular points, will suggest to the reader the origin of the name given it by Forfarshire workmen.”

A correct restoration, in proportion to the fragments found in the Lower Old Red Sandstone, would give a creature measuring nearly six feet in length, and more than a foot across. Pterygotus anglicus may therefore be justly considered a monster crustacean.

The illustrious Cuvier, who, in the eighteenth century founded the science of comparative anatomy (see [p. 5]), astonished the scientific world by his bold interpretations of fossil bones. From a few broken fragments of bone he could restore the skeleton of an entire animal, and determine its habits and mode of living. When other wise men were unable to read the writing of Nature on the walls of her museum—in the shape of fossil bones—he came forward, like a second Daniel, to interpret the signs, and so instructed us how to restore the world’s lost creations. Hugh Miller submitted the fragments found at Balruddery to the celebrated naturalist Agassiz, a pupil of Cuvier, who had written a famous work on fossil fishes; and he says that he was much struck with the skill displayed by him in piecing together the fragments of the huge Pterygotus. "Agassiz glanced over the collection. One specimen especially caught his attention—an elegantly symmetrical one. His eye brightened as he contemplated it. ‘I will tell you,’ he said, turning to the company—'I will tell you what these are—the remains of a huge lobster.' He arranged the specimens in the group before him with as much ease as I have seen a young girl arranging the pieces of ivory in an Indian puzzle. There is a homage due to supereminent genius, which Nature spontaneously pays when there are no low feelings of jealousy or envy to interfere with her operations; and the reader may well believe that it was willingly rendered on this occasion to the genius of Agassiz." Agassiz himself, previous to this, had considered such fragments as he had seen to be the remains of fishes. As we have said before, this creature was not a true lobster; but Agassiz, when he expressed the opinion just quoted, was not far off the mark, and did great service in showing it to be a crustacean. There were no lobsters or scorpions at that early period of the world’s history, and this creature, with its long “jaw-feet” and powerful tail, was a near approach to a king-crab on the one hand and scorpion on the other. If living now, it would no doubt command a high price at Billingsgate; but, then, it would be a dangerous thing to handle when alive, and might be more troublesome to catch than our crabs or lobsters.

The front part of its body was entirely enveloped in a kind of shield, called a carapace, bearing near the centre minute eyes, which probably were useless, and at the corners two large compound eyes, made up of numerous little lenses, such as we see in the eye of a dragon-fly. This is clearly proved by certain well-preserved specimens. There are five pairs of appendages, all attached under or near the head. Behind the head follow thirteen rings, or segments, the last of which forms the tail, two at least of these bore gills for breathing. All but two of them, below the mouth, must have been beautifully articulated, so as to allow them to move freely, as we see in the lobster of the present day. But look at that lowest and largest pair of appendages, the end joints of which are flattened out, and you will see that they must have been a powerful oar-like apparatus for swimming forwards. We can fancy this creature propelling itself much in the same way as a “water-beetle” rows itself through the water in a pond. In all other crustaceans the antennæ are used for feeling about, but in the Pterygotus they are used as claws for seizing the prey.

In general external appearance, this huge Pterygotus greatly reminds us of a tiny fresh-water crustacean, known as Cyclops—because it has only one eye, like the giant in Homer’s Odyssey. This little creature, which is only ¹/₁₆ inch in length, is an inhabitant of ponds. From its large eyes, powerful oar-like limbs, or appendages, and from the general form of its body, Dr. Henry Woodward (the author of a learned monograph on these creatures) concludes that the Pterygotus was a very active animal; and the reader will easily gather from its pair of antennæ, converted at their extremities into nippers, and from the nature of its “jaw-feet,” that the creature was a hungry and predaceous monster, seizing everything eatable that came in its way. The whole family to which it belongs—including Pterygotus, Eurypterus, Slimonia, Stylonurus, and others—seems to have been fitted for rather rapid motion, if we may judge from the long tapering and well-articulated body. In two forms (Pterygotus and Slimonia) the tail-flap probably served both as a powerful propeller, and as a rudder for directing the creature’s course; but others, such as Eurypterus and Stylonurus, had long sword-like tails, which may have assisted them to burrow into the sand, in the same way that king-crabs do. Eurypterus remipes is shown in [Fig. 2].

It has been stated above that our sea-scorpions are related to the king-crabs. Now, this creature, it is well known, burrows into the mud and sand at the bottom of the sea. This it does by shoving its broad sharp-edged head-shield downwards, working rapidly at the same time with its hinder feet, or appendages, and by pushing with the long spike that forms a kind of tail. It will thus sink deeper and deeper until nothing can be seen of its body, and only the eyes peep out of the mud. It will crawl and wander about by night, but remains hidden by day. Some of them are of large size, and occasionally measure two feet in length. They possess six pairs of well-formed feet, the joints of which, near the body, are armed with teeth and spines, and serve the purpose of jaws, being used to masticate the food and force it into the mouth, which is situated between them.

Fig. 2.—Silurian merostomata.
1. Stylonurus. 2. Eurypterus.
(After Woodward.)

Now, this fact is of great importance; for it helps us to understand the use of the four pairs of “jaw-feet” in our Sea-scorpions. What curious animals they must have been, using the same limbs for walking, holding their prey, and eating! Look at the broad plates at the base of the oar-like limbs, or appendages, with their tooth-like edges. These are the plates found by Hugh Miller’s quarrymen, and compared by them to the wings of seraphim. You will easily perceive that by a backward and forward movement, they would perform the office of teeth and jaws, while the long antennæ with their nippers—helped by the other and smaller appendages—held the unfortunate victim in a relentless grasp. And even these smaller limbs, you will see from the figure, had their first joints, near the mouth, provided with toothed edges like a saw.

With regard to the habits of Sea-scorpions, it would not be altogether safe to conclude that, because in so many ways they resembled king-crabs, they therefore had the same habit of burrowing into the soft muddy or sandy bed of the sea, as some authorities have supposed. Seeing that there is a difference of opinion on this subject, the author consulted Dr. Woodward on the question, and he said he thought it unlikely, seeing that, in some of them, such as the Pterygotus, the eyes are placed on the margin of the head-shield; for it would hardly care to rub its eyes with sand. Whether it chose at times to bury its long body in the sand by a process of wriggling backwards, as certain modern crustaceans do, we may consider to be an open question.

If only Sea-scorpions had not unfortunately died out, how interesting it would be to watch them alive, and to see exactly what use they would make of their long bodies, tail-flaps, and tail-spikes! Were they nocturnal in their habits, wandering about by night, and taking their rest by day? Such questions, we fear, can never be answered. But their large eyes would have been able to collect a great deal of light when the moon and stars feebly illumined the shallower waters of the seas of Old Red Sandstone times; and so there is nothing to contradict the idea.

Now, it is an interesting fact that young crabs, soon after they are hatched, have long bodies somewhat similar to those of our Sea-scorpions, with a head-shield under which are their jaw-feet, and then a number of free body-rings without any appendages. These end in a spiked tail. As the crab grows older, he ceases to be a free-swimming animal—for which kind of life his long body is well suited,—tucks up his long tail, and takes to crawling instead. Thus his body is rendered more compact and handy for the life he is going to lead. Lobsters, on the other hand, can swim gently forwards, or dart rapidly backwards. Thus we see that the ten-footed crustaceans of the present day are divided into two groups—the long-tailed and free-swimming forms, such as lobsters, shrimps, and cray-fishes; and the short-tailed crawling forms, namely, the crabs. Now, in the same way, Pterygotus and its allies were long-tailed forms, while the king-crabs are short-tailed forms. So were the trilobites of old. Hence we learn that, ages and ages ago, before the days of crabs and lobsters, there were long-tailed and short-tailed forms of crustaceans, just as there are now, only they did not possess true walking legs. They belonged to quite a different order, called “thigh-mouthed” crustaceans, Merostomata, because their legs are all placed near the mouth; and, as we have already learned, were used for feeding as well as for purposes of locomotion.

Now, one of the many points of interest in Pterygotus and its allies is that they somewhat resemble the crab in its young or larval state. To a modern naturalist, this fact is important as showing that crustacean forms of life have advanced since the days of the sea-scorpions.

Their resemblance to land-scorpions is so close that, if it were not for the important fact that scorpions breathe air instead of water, and for this purpose are provided with air-tubes (or trachea) such as all insects have, they would certainly be removed bodily out of the crustacean class, and put into that in which scorpions and spiders are placed, viz. the Arachnida. But, in spite of this important difference, there are some naturalists in favour of such a change. It will thus be seen that our name Sea-scorpions is quite permissible.

Hugh Miller described some curious little round bodies found with the remains of the Pterygotus, which it was thought were the eggs of these creatures!

Finally, these extinct crustaceans flourished in those ages of the world’s history known as the Silurian and the Old Red Sandstone periods. As far as we know, they did not survive beyond the succeeding period, known as the Carboniferous.[6]

[6] The student should consult Dr. Henry Woodward’s valuable Monograph of the British Merostomata (Palæontographical Society), to which the writer is much indebted. With regard to the representation of Pterygotus anglicus in [Plate I.]., it has been pointed out by Dr. Woodward that the creature was unable to bend its body into such a position as is shown there. As in a modern lobster, or shrimp, there were certain overlapping plates in the rings, or segments, of the body, which prevented movement from side to side, and only allowed of a vertical movement.

CHAPTER III.

THE GREAT FISH-LIZARDS.

“Berossus, the Chaldæan saith: A time was when the universe was darkness and water, wherein certain animals of frightful and compound forms were generated. There were serpents and other creatures with the mixed shapes of one another, of which pictures are kept in the temple of Belus at Babylon.”—The Archaic Genesis.

Visitors to Sydenham, who have wandered about the spacious gardens so skilfully laid out by the late Sir Joseph Paxton, will be familiar with the great models of extinct animals on the “geological island.” These were designed and executed by that clever artist, Mr. Waterhouse Hawkins, who made praiseworthy efforts to picture to our eyes some of the world’s lost creations, as restored by the genius of Sir Richard Owen and other famous naturalists. His drawings of extinct animals may yet be seen hanging on the walls of some of our provincial museums; and doubtless others still linger among the natural history collections of schools and colleges.

Lazily basking in the sun, when it condescends to shine, and resting his clumsy carcase on the ground that forms the shore near the said geological island at Sydenham, may be seen the old fish-lizard, or Ichthyosaurus, that forms the subject of the present chapter. He looks awkward on land, as if longing to get into his native element once more, and cleave its waters with his powerful tail-fin. His “flippers” seem too weak to enable him to crawl on land. Moreover, the most recent discoveries of Dr. Fraas lead us to conclude that the Ichthyosaur never ventured to leave the “briny ocean” to bask upon the land.

This great uncouth beast presents some curious anomalies in his constitution, being planned on different lines to anything now living, and presenting, as so many other extinct animals do, a mixture, or fusion, of types that greatly puzzled the learned men of the time when his remains were first brought to light, after their long entombment in the Lias rocks forming the cliffs on the coast of Dorset. Some have christened him a “sea-dragon,” and such indeed he may be considered. But the name Ichthyosaurus, given above, has received the sanction of high authority, and, moreover, serves to remind us of the fact that, although in many respects a lizard, he yet retains in his bony framework the traces of a remote fishy ancestry. So we will call him a fish-lizard.

We remember in our young days the amiable endeavours of Mr. “Peter Parley” to introduce us to the wonders of creation; and his account of the Ichthyosaurus particularly impressed itself on our youthful imagination. How surprised that inestimable instructor of youth would be could he now see the still more wonderful remains that have been brought to light from Europe, Asia, Africa, and America!

The curious quotation given at the head of the present chapter refers to a widespread belief, prevalent among the highly civilised nations of antiquity, that the world was once inhabited by dragons, or other monsters “of mixed shape” and characters. To the student of ancient history traces of this curious belief will be familiar. Sir Charles Lyell refers to such a belief when he says, in his Principles of Geology, “The Egyptians, it is true, had taught, and the Stoics had repeated, that the earth had once given birth to some monstrous animals that existed no longer.” It may be surprising to some, but it is undoubtedly the fact, that modern scientific truths were partly anticipated by the civilised nations of long ago. Take the ideas of the ancients as interpreted from the records of Egypt, Chaldæa, India, and China; and you will find that our discoveries in geology, astronomy, and ethnology go far to prove that the traditions of these ancient peoples, however derived, after making due allowance for Oriental allegory and poetic hyperbole, are not far from the truth. To the Babylonian tradition of the monstrous forms of life at first created we have already alluded; but in other fields of discovery we find the same foreshadowing of discoveries made in our own day. Take the vast cycles of Egyptian tradition, wherein the stars returned to their places after a circle of constant change, only to start again on their unwearied round; the atomic theory of Lucretius, now expanded and incorporated into modern chemistry; or the philosopher’s pregnant saying—Omne vivum ex ovo (“Every living thing comes from an egg”). These and other examples might be cited to show how true the old saying is, “There is nothing new under the sun.” In the writings of ancient authors may be found singular notices of bones and skeletons found in “the bowels of the earth,” which are referred to an imaginary era of long ago, when giants of huge dimensions walked this earth. One is inclined sometimes to wonder whether the old fables of griffins and horrid dragons may not be to some extent based upon the occasional discovery, in former times, of fossil bones, such as evidently belonged to animals the like of which are not to be seen nowadays. (See chaps. xiii. and xiv.)

The illustrious Cuvier, in his day, considered the fish-lizard to be one of the most heteroclite and monstrous animals ever discovered. He said of this creature that it possessed the snout of a dolphin, the teeth of a crocodile, the head and breast-bone of a lizard, the paddles of a whale or dolphin, and the vertebræ of a fish! No wonder that naturalists and palæontologists, whose realm is the natural history of the past, were obliged to make a new division, or order, of reptiles to accommodate the fish-lizard. It is obvious that a creature with such very “mixed” relationships would be out of place in any of the four orders into which living reptiles, as represented by turtles, snakes, lizards, and crocodiles are divided. Here is what Professor Blackie says of the Ichthyosaurus—

"Behold, a strange monster our wonder engages!
If dolphin or lizard your wit may defy.
Some thirty feet long, on the shore of Lyme-Regis,
With a saw for a jaw, and a big staring eye.
A fish or a lizard? An ichthyosaurus,
With a big goggle eye, and a very small brain,
And paddles like mill-wheels in chattering chorus,
Smiting tremendous the dread-sounding main.”

A glance at our restoration, [Plate II.], will show that the fish-lizard was a powerful monster, well endowed with the means of propelling itself rapidly through the water as it sought its living prey, to seize it within those cruel jaws. The long and powerful tail was its chief organ of propulsion; but the paddles would also be useful for this purpose, as well as for guiding its course. The pointed head and generally tapering body suggests a capability of rapid movement through the water; and since we know for certain that it fed on fishes, this conclusion is confirmed, for fishes are not easily caught now, and most probably were not easily caught ages ago.

The personal history of the fish-lizard, merely as a fossil or “remain,” is interesting; so much so, that we may perhaps be allowed to relate the circumstances of his début before the scientific world, in the days of the ever-illustrious Cuvier, to whom we have already alluded. But England had its share of illustrious men, too, though lesser lights compared to the founder of comparative anatomy,—such as Sir Richard Owen, on whom the mantle of his friend Cuvier has fallen; Conybeare, De la Beche, and Dean Buckland.

These scientific men, aided by the untiring labours of many enthusiastic collectors of organic remains, have been the means of solving the riddle of the fish-lizard, and of introducing him to the public. By this time there is, perhaps, no creature among the host of Antediluvian types better known than this reptile.

The remains of fish-lizards have attracted the attention of collectors and describers of fossils for nearly two centuries past. The vertebræ, or “cup-bones,” as they are often called, of which the spinal column was composed, were figured by Scheüchzer, in an old work entitled Querelæ Piscium; and, at that time, they were supposed to be the vertebræ of fishes. In the year 1814 Sir Everard Home described the fossil remains of this creature, in a paper read before the Royal Society, and published in their Philosophical Transactions. This fossil was first discovered in the Lias strata of the Dorsetshire coast. Other papers followed till the year 1820. We are chiefly indebted to De la Beche and Conybeare for pointing out and illustrating the nature of the fish-lizard; and that at a time when the materials for so doing were far more scanty than they are now. Mr. Charles König, Mr. Thomas Hawkins, Dean Buckland, Sir Philip Egerton, and Professor Owen have all helped to throw light on the structure and habits of these old tyrants of the seas of that age, which is known as the Jurassic period. They lived on, however, to the succeeding or Cretaceous period, during which our English chalk was forming; but the Liassic age was the one in which they flourished most abundantly, and developed the greatest variety.

In the year 1814 a few bones were found on the Dorsetshire coast between Charmouth and Lyme-Regis, and added to the collection of Bullock. They came from the Lias cliffs, undermined by the encroaching sea. Sir Everard’s attention being attracted to them, he published the notices already referred to. The analogy of some of the bones to those of a crocodile, induced Mr. König, of the British Museum, to believe the animal to have been a saurian, or lizard; but the vertebræ, and also the position of certain openings in the skull, indicated some remote affinity with fishes, but this must not be pressed too far. The choice of a name, therefore, involved much difficulty; and at length he decided to call it the Ichthyosaurus, or fish-lizard. Mr. Johnson, of Bristol, who had collected for many years in that neighbourhood, found out some valuable particulars about these remains. The conclusions of Dean Buckland, then Professor of Geology at Oxford, led Sir Everard to abandon many of his former conclusions. The labours of the learned men of the day were greatly assisted by the exertions of Miss Anning, an enthusiastic collector of fossils. This lady, devoting herself to science, explored the frowning and precipitous cliffs in the neighbourhood of Lyme-Regis, when the furious spring-tide combined with the tempest to overthrow them, and rescued from destruction by the sea, sometimes at the peril of her life, the few specimens which originated all the facts and speculations of those persons whose names will ever be remembered with gratitude by geologists.

Fig. 3.—Ichthyosaurus intermedius.

Probably our readers are already more or less familiar with the drawings of the fossilised remains of Ichthyosauri to be seen in almost every text-book of geology. ([Fig. 3] is from Owen’s British Fossil Reptiles.) But we recommend all who take an interest in the world’s lost creations to pay a visit to the great Natural History Museum, at South Kensington. The fossil reptile gallery contains a magnificent series of Ichthyosauri, about thirty in number. Of these a large number were obtained through the exertions of the late Mr. T. Hawkins, a Somersetshire gentleman, who was a most ardent collector of fossil reptiles, and who devoted himself with great enthusiasm and unsparing energy to the acquisition of a truly splendid collection of these most interesting relics of the past. Nearly sixty years ago he arranged for the purchase of his treasures by the authorities of the British Museum, and thus his collection became the property of the nation.

His specimens were figured and described by him in two large folio volumes. The first was published in 1834, under the title, Memoirs of the Ichthyosauri and Plesiosauri; his second, with the same plates, in 1842, under the quaint title of The Book of the Great Sea-Dragons. The large lithographic drawings of his fine specimens were beautifully executed by Scharf and O’Neil. The plates are the only really valuable part of these two curious and ill-written books. His descriptions are not of much value, and his pages are encumbered with a vast amount of extraneous matter. The author is immensely proud of his collection, and his vanity is conspicuous throughout. Instead of confining himself to descriptions of what he found, and how he found them, he continually wanders into all sorts of subjects that are, to say the least, irrelevant. In one place he introduces ancient history and mythology; in another, Old Testament chronology; in another, the unbelieving spirit of the age; and here and there indulges in vague unphilosophical speculations. Altogether his two volumes are a curious mixture of bigotry, conceit, and unrestrained fancy, and they afforded to the present writer no small amusement. One rises from the perusal of such men’s writings with a strong sense of the contrast between the humble and patient spirit in which our great men of to-day, such as Professor Owen, study nature and record their observations, and the vague, conceited outpourings of some old-fashioned writers.

Mr. Hawkins tells us that his youthful attention was directed to the Lias quarries, near Edgarly, in Somersetshire, in consequence of some strange reports. It was said that the bones of giants and infants had, at distant intervals, been found in them. These quarries he visited, and, by offers of generous payment, induced the workmen to keep for him all the remains they might find. In this way he finally obtained the co-operation of all the quarrymen in the county.

Plate II.

FISH-LIZARDS.
Ichthyosaurus communis. Ichthyosaurus tenuirostris.
Length about 22 feet. Fishes, Dapedius, etc. A smaller species.

Mr. Hawkins thus expresses his delight on obtaining an Ichthyosaurus which was pointed out to him by Miss Anning, near the church at Lyme-Regis, in the year 1832: “Who can describe my transport at the sight of the colossus? My eyes the first which beheld it! Who shall ever see them lit up with the same unmitigated enthusiasm again? And I verily believe that the uncultivated bosoms of the working men were seized with the same contagious feeling; for they and the surrounding spectators waved their hats to an ‘Hurra!’ that made hill and mossy dell echoing ring.”

This specimen, however, got sadly broken in its fall from the cliff; but in time he put all the pieces together again. Speaking of his own collection, he says, “This stupendous treasure was gathered by me from every part of England; arranged, and its multifarious features elaborated from the hard limestone by my own hands. A tyro in collecting at the age of twelve years, I then boasted of all the antiquities that were come-at-able in my neighbourhood, but, finding that everybody beat my cabinet of coins, I addressed myself to worm-eaten books, and last to fossils.” Before he was twenty years of age he had obtained a very fine collection of organic remains.

When, however, he complains of the Philistine dulness and stupidity of quarrymen, who often, in their ignorance, break up finds of almost priceless value, we can fully sympathize.

In general contour the body of the fish-lizard was long and tapering, like that of a whale (see [Plate II.]). It probably showed no distinct neck. The long tail was its chief organ of propulsion. We notice two pairs of fins, or paddles; one on the fore part of the body, the other on the hinder part, like the pectoral and abdominal fins of a fish. The skin was scaleless and smooth, or slightly wrinkled, like that of a whale. No traces of scales have ever been found; and if such had existed, they would certainly have been preserved, since those of fishes and crocodiles of the Jurassic period have been found in considerable number and variety. It is therefore safe to conclude that such were absent in this case. In the Lias strata, at least, the specimens are often preserved with most wonderful completeness (see [p. 47]).

The long and pointed jaws are a striking feature of these animals. The eyes were very large and powerful, and specially adapted, as we shall see presently, to the conditions of their life.

It might, perhaps, be asked whether the fish-lizards breathed, like fishes, by means of gills. That question can easily be answered; for if they had possessed gills for taking in water and breathing the air dissolved therein, they would reveal the fact by showing a bony framework for the support of gills, such as are to be found in all fishes. These structures, known as “branchial arches,” are absent; therefore the fish-lizards possessed lungs, and breathed air like reptiles of the present day. Their skulls show where the nostrils were situated; namely, near the eyes, and not at the end of the upper jaw-bone. There are also passages in the skull leading from the nostrils to the palate, along which currents of air passed on their way to the lungs. Being air-breathers, they would be compelled occasionally to seek the surface of the sea, in order to obtain a fresh supply of the life-giving element—oxygen; but, being cold-blooded and with a small brain, needing a much less supply of oxygen for its work, the fish-lizards had, like fishes, this advantage over whales, which are warm-blooded—that their stern-propeller, or tail-fin, could take the form best adapted for a swift, straight-forward course through the water.

In the whale tribe the tail-fin is horizontal; and this is so on account of their need, as large-brained, warm-blooded air-breathers, of speedy access to the atmospheric air. Were it otherwise, they would not have the means of rising with sufficient rapidity to the surface of the sea; for they have only one pair of fins. But the fish-lizards had two pairs of these appendages, and the hinder or pelvic pair no doubt were of great service in helping the creatures to come up to the surface when necessary.

Thus we see that the whale, with its one pair of paddles, has a tail specially planned with a view to rapid vertical movement through the water; while in the fish-lizards, who did not require to breathe so frequently, the tail-fin was planned with a view to swift and straight movement forward as they pursued their prey, and they were compensated by having bestowed upon them an extra pair of paddles. Thus we learn how one part of an animal is related to and dependent upon another, and how they all work together with the greatest harmony for certain definite purposes (see [p. 6]).

Fig. 4.—(A) Lateral and (B) profile views of a tooth of Ichthyosaurus
platyodon (Conybeare), Lower Lias, Lyme Regis, Dorsetshire, (C) Tooth of Ichthyosaurus communis (Conybeare), Lower Lias, Lyme Regis, Dorset.

These great marine predaceous reptiles literally swarmed in the seas of the Lias period, and no doubt devoured immense shoals of the fishes of those times, whose numbers were thus to some extent kept down. There is clear proof of this in the fossilised droppings—known as “coprolites,”—which show on examination the broken and comminuted remains of the little bony plates of ganoid fishes that we know were contemporaries of these reptiles. Probably young ones were sometimes devoured too.

It was in the period of the Lias that fish-lizards attained to their greatest development, both in numbers and variety; and the strata of that period have preserved some interesting variations. It will be sufficient here to point out two, namely, Ichthyosaurus tenuirostris—an elegant little form, in which the jaws, instead of being massive and strong, were long and slender like a bird’s beak; and also Ichthyosaurus latifrons ([Fig. 5]), with jaws still more bird-like. Our artist has attempted to show the former variety in our illustration ([Plate II.]). A most perfect example of this pretty little Ichthyosaur, from the Lower Lias of Street in Somerset, has recently been presented to the National Collection at South Kensington by Mr. Alfred Gillett, of Street, and may be seen there. In this group of fish-lizards the eyes are relatively larger, and we should imagine that they were very quick in detecting and catching their prey; their paddles also have larger bones.

Fig. 5.—Skull of Ichthyosaurus latifrons.

There is a remarkably fine specimen at Burlington House, in the rooms of the Geological Society, of an Ichthyosaurus' head, which the writer found, on measuring, to be about five feet six inches long. A cast of this head is exhibited at South Kensington. The largest of the specimens in the National Collection is twenty-two feet long and eight feet across the expanded paddles; but it is known that many attained much greater dimensions. Judging from detached heads and parts of skeletons, it is probable that some of them were between thirty and forty feet long. A specimen of Ichthyosaurus platyodon in the collection of the late Mr. Johnson, of Bristol, has an eye-cavity with a diameter of fourteen inches. This collection is now dispersed.

With regard to their habits, Sir Richard Owen concludes that they occasionally sought the shores, crawled on the strand, and basked in the sunshine. His reason for this conjecture (which, however, is not confirmed by Dr. Fraas’s recent discoveries) is to be found in the bony structure connected with the fore-paddles, which is not to be found in any porpoise, dolphin, grampus, or whale, and for want of which these creatures are so helpless when left high and dry on the shore.[7] The structure in question is a strong bony arch, inverted and spanning across beneath the chest from one shoulder to the other. A fish-lizard, when so visiting the shore for sleep, or in the breeding season, would lie or crawl, prostrate, with its under side resting or dragging on the ground—somewhat after the manner of a turtle.

[7] It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to remark that whales are not fishes, but mammals which have undergone great change in order to adapt themselves to a marine life. Their hind limbs have practically vanished, only a rudiment of them being left.

It is a curious fact that this bony arch resembles the same part in those singular and problematical mammals, the Echidna and the Platypus, or duck-mole.

The enormous magnitude and peculiar construction of the eye are highly interesting features. The expanded pupil must have allowed of the admittance of a large quantity of light, so that the creature possessed great powers of vision.

The organic remains associated with fish-lizards tell us that they inhabited waters of moderate depth, such as prevails near a coast-line or among coral islands. Moreover, an air-breathing creature would obviously be unable to live in "the depths of the sea;" for it would take a long time to get to the surface for a fresh supply of air.

Perhaps no part of the skeleton is more interesting than the curious circular series of bony plates surrounding the iris and pupil of the eye. The eyes of many fishes are defended by a bony covering consisting of two pieces; but a circle of bony overlapping plates is now only found in the eyes of turtles, tortoises, lizards, and birds, and some alligators. This elaborate apparatus must have been of some special use; the question is—What service or services did it perform? Here, again, we find answers suggested by Owen and Buckland. It would aid, they say, in protecting the eye-ball from the waves of the sea when the creature rose to the surface, as well as from the pressure of the water when it dived down to the bottom—for even at a slight depth pressure increases, as divers know. But it appears that the ring of bony plates fulfilled a yet more important office, thereby enabling the fish-lizards to play admirably their part in the world in which they lived, and to succeed in the struggle of life; for even in those remote days there must have been, as now, a keen competition among all animals, so that the victory was to those that were best equipped.

Would it not be an advantage for them to have the power of seeing their finny prey whether near or far? Certainly it would; and so we are told that, by bringing the plates a little nearer together, and causing them to press gently on the eye-ball, so as to make the eye more convex—that is, bulging out—a nearer object would be the better discerned. On the other hand, by relaxing this pressure, thus enlarging the aperture of the pupil and diminishing the convexity, a distant object would be focussed upon the retina. In this manner some birds alter the focus of their eyes while swooping down on their prey.

What a wonderful arrangement! We often hear of people having two pairs of spectacles—with lenses of different curvature—one for reading, and the other for seeing more distant objects than a book held in the hand. But here is a creature that possessed an apparatus far more simple and effective than that supplied by the optician! Dr. Buckland, speaking of these “sclerotic plates,” as they are called, says they show “that the enormous eye of which they formed the front was an optical instrument of varied and prodigious power, enabling the Ichthyosaurus to descry its prey in the obscurity of night and in the depths of the sea.” But the last expression must be taken in a limited sense (see [Fig. 6]).

Fig. 6.—Head of Ichthyosaurus platyodon.

It might well be supposed that no record had been preserved from which we could learn anything about the nature of the skin of our fish-lizard; but even this wish has been partly fulfilled, to the delight of all geologists. Certain specimens have been obtained, from the Lias of England and Germany, that show faithful impressions of the skin that covered the paddles. A specimen of this nature has lately been presented to the national treasure-house at South Kensington by Mr. Montague Brown. On the inner side of the paddle was a broad fin-like expansion, admirably adapted to obtain the full advantage of the stroke of the limb in swimming.[8]

[8] Mr. Smith Woodward informs the writer that specimens have lately been found near Würtemberg, with evidence of a triangular fin on the back. Plate II. has been redrawn for this edition, to make it more in harmony with Dr. Fraas’s discoveries. (See [Appendix V].)

Speaking of the limbs, it should be mentioned that the bones of each finger, instead of being elongated and limited in number to three in each of the five fingers, are polygonal in shape and arranged in as many as seven or eight rows, while those of each finger are exceedingly numerous. Thus the whole structure forms a kind of bony pavement which must have been very supple. Such a limb would be one of the most efficient and powerful swimming organs known in the whole animal kingdom. In whales the fingers of the flippers are of the usual number, namely, five. Some species of fish-lizards had as many as over a hundred separate little bones in the fore-paddle.

Another question naturally suggests itself: Were they viviparous, or did they lay eggs like crocodiles? This question seems to have been answered in favour of the first supposition; and in the following interesting manner. It not infrequently happens that entire little skeletons of very small individuals are found under the ribs of large ones. They are invariably uninjured, and of the same species as the one that encloses them, and with the head pointing in one direction. Such specimens are most probably the fossilised remains of little fish-lizards, that were yet unborn when their mothers met with an untimely end (see [p. 51]). In some cases, however, they may be young ones that were swallowed. (See [Appendix V].)

The jaws of these hungry formidable monsters were provided with a series of formidable teeth—sometimes over two hundred in number—inserted in a long groove, and not in distinct sockets, as in the case of crocodiles. In some cases, sixty or more have been found on each side of the upper and lower jaws, giving a total of over two hundred and forty teeth! The larger teeth may be two inches or more in length.

The jaws were admirably constructed on a plan that combined lightness, elasticity, and strength. Instead of consisting of one piece only, they show a union of plates of bone, as in recent crocodiles. These plates are strongest and most numerous just where the greatest strength was wanted, and thinner and fewer towards the extremities of the jaw. A crocodile, Sir Samuel Baker says, in his Wild Beasts and their Ways, can bite a man in two; and no doubt our fish-lizard would have been glad to perform the same feat! But in his pre-Adamite days the opportunity did not present itself.

The spinal column, or backbone, with its generally concave vertebræ, must have been highly flexible, as is that of a fish, especially the long tail which the creature worked rapidly from side to side as it lashed the waters.

The hollows of these concave vertebræ must have been originally filled up with fluid forming an elastic bag, or capsule. To get a clearer idea of this, take a small portion of the backbone of a boiled cod, or other “bony” fish, and you will see on pulling it to pieces, the white, jelly-like substance that fills up the hollows between the vertebræ. In this way Nature provides a soft cushion between the joints, that allows of a certain amount of movement, while, at the same time, the column holds together. The backbone of a fish may not inaptly be compared to a railway train. Each of the carriages represents a vertebra, and the buffers act as cushions when the train is bent in running round a curve. After all, we must learn from Nature; and many of the greatest mechanical and engineering triumphs of to-day are based upon the methods used by Nature in the building up and equipment of vegetable and animal forms of life.

It may, perhaps, be inquired whether there is any evidence for the existence of a tail-fin, such as is shown in our illustration. To this it may be replied that the presence of such an appendage is as good as proved by a certain flattening of the vertebræ at the end of the tail, detected by Owen. The direction of this flattening is from side to side, and therefore the tail-fin must have been vertical, like that of a fish. In one specimen Sir Richard Owen has detected as many as 156 vertebræ to the whole body.

Our description of the fish-lizard has, we trust, been sufficient—although not couched in the language used by men of science—to give a fair idea of its structure and habits.

In conclusion, a few words may be said about the ancestry and life-history of these ancient monsters. Palæontologists have good reason to believe that they were descended from some early form of land reptile. If so, they show that whales are not the first land animals that have gone back to the sea, from which so many forms of life have taken their rise.

During the long Mesozoic period fish-lizards played the part that whales now play in the economy of the world; and they resembled the latter, not only in general shape, but in the situation of the nostrils (near the eye), and in their teeth and long jaws. But these curious resemblances must not be interpreted to mean that whales and fish-lizards are related to each other. They only show that similar modes of life tend to produce artificial resemblances—just as some whales, in their turn, show a superficial resemblance to fishes.

With regard to the particular form of reptile from which the fish-lizard may have been derived, no certain conclusion has at present been arrived at. This is chiefly from want of fuller knowledge of early forms, such as may have existed in the previous periods known as the Carboniferous and Trias (see [Appendix I].). But there are certain features in the skulls, teeth, and vertebræ that suggest a relationship with the Labyrinthodonts, or primæval salamanders that flourished during the above periods, or at least from amphibians more or less closely allied to them. They cannot by any possibility be regarded as modified fishes; for fishes have gills instead of lungs.

The fish-lizards played their part, and played it admirably; but their days were numbered, and the place they occupied has since been taken by a higher type—the mammal. As reptiles, they were eminently a success; but, then, they were only reptiles, and therefore were at last left behind in the struggle for existence, until finally they died out, at the end of the Cretaceous period, when certain important geographical and other changes took place, helping to cause the extinction of many other strange forms of life, as we shall see later on (see [p. 147]).

They had a wide geographical range; for their remains have been discovered in Arctic regions, in Europe, India, Ceram, North America, the east coast of Africa, Australia, and New Zealand.

In American deposits they are represented by certain toothless forms, to which the name Sauranodon (“toothless lizard”) has been given. These have been discovered by Professor Marsh, in the Jurassic strata of the Rocky Mountains. They were eight or nine feet long, and in every other respect resembled Ichthyosaurs. As we have endeavoured to indicate in our illustration, the fish-lizards flourished in seas wherein animal, and doubtless vegetable life was very abundant. Any one who has collected fossils from the Lias of England will have found how full it is of beautiful organic remains, such as corals, mollusca, encrinites, sea-urchins, and other echinoids, fishes, etc.

The climate of this period in Europe was mild and genial, or even semi-tropical. Coral reefs and coral islands varied the landscape. There is just one more point of interest that ought not to be omitted; it refers to the manner in which these reptiles of the Lias age met their deaths, and were thus buried up in their rocky tombs. Sir Charles Lyell and other writers point out that the individuals found in those strata must have met with a sudden death and quick burial; for if their uncovered bodies had been left, even for a few hours, exposed to putrification and the attacks of fishes at the bottom of the sea, we should not now find their remains so completely preserved that often scarcely a single bone has been moved from its right place. What was the exact nature of this operation is at present a matter of doubt.

CHAPTER IV.

THE GREAT SEA-LIZARDS AND THEIR ALLIES.

“The wonders of geology exercise every faculty of the mind—reason, memory, imagination; and though we cannot put our fossils to the question, it is something to be so aroused as to be made to put the questions to one’s self.”—Hugh Miller.

The fish-lizards, described in our last chapter, were not the only predaceous monsters that haunted the seas of the great Mesozoic age, or era. We must now say a few words about certain contemporary creatures that shared with them the spoils of those old seas, so teeming with life. And first among these—as being more fully known—come the long-necked sea-lizards, or Plesiosaurs.

The Plesiosaurus was first discovered in the Lias rocks of Lyme-Regis, in the year 1821. It was christened by the above name, and introduced to the scientific world by the Rev. Mr. Conybeare (afterwards Dean of Llandaff) and Mr. (afterwards Sir Henry) de la Beche. They gave it this name in order to distinguish it from the Ichthyosaurus, and to record the fact that it was more nearly allied to the lizard than the latter.[9] Conybeare, with the assistance of De la Beche, first described it in a now-classic paper read before the Geological Society of London, and published in the Transactions of that Society in the year 1821. In a later paper (1824) he gave a restoration of the entire skeleton of Plesiosaurus dolichodeirus; and the accuracy of that restoration is still universally acknowledged. This fine specimen was in the possession of the Duke of Buckingham, who kindly placed it at the disposal of Dr. Buckland, for a time, that it might be properly described and investigated.

[9] The name is derived from two Greek words—plesios, near, or allied to, and sauros, a lizard.

A glance at our illustration, [Plate III.], will show that this strange creature was not inaptly compared at the time to a snake threaded through the body of a turtle.

Dr. Buckland truly observes that the discovery of this genus forms one of the most important additions that geology has made to comparative anatomy. “It is of the Plesiosaurus,” says that graphic author, in his Bridgewater Treatise, “that Cuvier asserts the structure to have been the most heteroclite, and its characters altogether the most monstrous that have been yet found amid the ruins of a former world. To the head of a lizard it united the teeth of a crocodile; a neck of enormous length, resembling the body of a serpent; a trunk and tail having the proportions of an ordinary quadruped; the ribs of a chameleon, and the paddles of a whale! Such are the strange combinations of form and structure in the Plesiosaurus—a genus, the remains of which, after interment for thousands of years amidst the wreck of millions of extinct inhabitants of the ancient earth, are at length recalled to light by the researches of the geologist, and submitted to our examination in nearly as perfect a state as the bones of species that are now existing upon the earth.”

Perhaps the best way in which we can gain a clear idea of the general characters of a long-necked sea-lizard, as we may call our Plesiosaurus, is by comparing it with the fish-lizard, described in the last chapter. Its long neck and small head are the most conspicuous features. Then we notice the short tail. But if we compare the paddles of these two extinct forms of life, we notice at once certain important differences. In the fish-lizard the bone of the arm was very short, while all the bones of the fore-arm and fingers were modified into little many-sided bodies, and so articulated together as to make the whole limb, or paddle, a solid yet flexible structure. In the long-necked sea-lizard, however, we find a long arm-bone with a club-like shape; and the two bones of the fore-arm are seen to be longer than in the fish-lizard. But a still greater difference shows itself in the bones of the finger, as we look at a fossilised skeleton (or a drawing of one); for the fingers are long and slender, like those of ordinary reptiles.

There are only five fingers, and each finger is quite distinct from the others. This is the reason why the Plesiosaur was considered to depart less from the type of an ordinary reptile, and so received its name. Other remarkable differences present themselves in the shoulders and haunches, but these need not be considered here. The species shown in [Fig. 8] had rather a large head. It is obvious that such a long slender neck as these creatures had could not have supported a large head, like that of the fish-lizard. Consequently, we find a striking contrast in the skulls of the two forms. That of the Plesiosaur was short and stout, and therefore such as could easily be supported, as well as rapidly moved about by the long slender neck. Thus we find another simple illustration of the “law of correlation,” alluded to on [p. 6]. The teeth were set in distinct sockets, as they are in crocodiles, to which animals there are also points of resemblance, in the backbone, ribs, and skull. [Fig. 7] shows three different types of lower jaws of Plesiosaurs. The one marked C belongs to Plesiosaurus dolichodeirus, the species represented in our plate. There were no bony plates in the eye. Professor Owen thinks that they were long-lived. The skin was probably smooth, like that of a porpoise.

Plate III.

PTERODACTYLS. LONG-NECKED SEA-LIZARD. CUTTLE-FISH OR BELEMNITE.
Plesiosaurus dolichodeirus. Length 22 feet.

Fig. 7.—Mandibles of Fish-lizards. A, Peloneustes philarchus (Seeley); from the Oxford Clay. B, Thaumatosaurus indicus (Lydekker); Upper Jurassic of India. C, Plesiosaurus aolichodirus (Conybeare); from the Lower Lias, Lyme Regis.

The visitor to the geological collection at South Kensington will find a splendid series of the fossilised remains of long-necked sea-lizards. They were mostly obtained from the Lias formation of Street in Somersetshire, Lyme-Regis in Dorset, and Whitby in Yorkshire. Those from the Lias are mostly small, about eight to ten feet in length. But in the rocks of the Cretaceous period, which was later, are found larger specimens. There is a cast of a very fine specimen from the Upper Lias on the wall of the east corridor (No. 3 on Plan) of the geological galleries at South Kensington, which is twenty-two feet long. But some of the Cretaceous forms, both in Europe and America, attained a length of forty feet, and had vertebræ six inches in diameter. The bodies of the vertebræ, or “cup-bones,” are either flat or slightly concave, showing that the backbone as a whole was less flexible than in the fish-lizards.

Fig. 8.—Plesiosaurus macrocephalus.

It may be mentioned here that Mr. Smith Woodward, of the Natural History Museum, recently showed the writer a fossil Plesiosaur that is being set up in the formatore’s shop, in the same manner that a recent skeleton might be. In this, and many other ways, the guardians of the national treasure-house are endeavouring to make the collection intelligible and interesting to the general public. Specimens of extinct animals thus set up, give one a much better idea than when the bones are all lying huddled together on a slab of rock. But it is not always possible to get the bones entirely out of their rocky bed, or matrix. Great credit is due to Mr. Alfred N. Leeds, of Eyebury, who has disinterred the separate bones of many distinct skeletons of Plesiosaurs from Oxford Clay strata near Peterborough.

It will be remembered that the long and powerful tail of the fish-lizard was its principal organ of propulsion through the water; and that, consequently, the paddles only played a secondary part. They were small, but amply large enough for the work they had to perform. But our long-necked sea-lizards possessed very short tails. What, then, was the consequence? Obviously that the paddles had all the more work to do. They were the chief swimming organs. The vertebræ of this short tail show that it probably was highly flexible, and could move rapidly from side to side; but, for all that, its use as a propeller would not be of much importance. We see now why the paddles are so long and powerful, like two pairs of great oars, one pair on each side of the body. In a fossil skeleton you will notice the flattened shape of the arm-bone (or humerus), and of the thigh-bone (or femur). This gave breadth to the paddles, and made them more efficient as swimming organs. They give no indication of having carried even such imperfect claws as those of turtles and seals, and therefore we may conclude that the Plesiosaur was far more at home in the water than on land, and it seems probable that progression on land was impossible.

The tail was probably useful as a rudder, to steer the animal when swimming on the surface, and to elevate or depress it in ascending and descending through the water. Like the fish-lizard, this creature was an air-breather, and therefore was obliged occasionally to visit the surface for fresh supplies of air. But probably it possessed the power of compressing air within its lungs, so that the frequency of its visits to the surface would not be very great.

From the long neck and head, situated so far away from the paddles, as well as for other reasons, it may be concluded that this creature was a rapid swimmer, as was the Ichthyosaurus. Although of considerable size, it probably had to seek its food, as well as its safety, chiefly by artifice and concealment. The fish-lizard, its contemporary, must have been a formidable rival and a dangerous enemy, whom to attack would be unadvisable.

Speaking of the habits of the long-necked sea-lizard, Mr. Conybeare, in his second paper, already alluded to, says, "That it was aquatic, is evident from the form of its paddles; that it was marine, is almost equally so, from the remains with which it is universally associated; that it may occasionally have visited the shore, the resemblance of its extremities to those of the turtle may lead us to conjecture; its motion, however, must have been very awkward on land; its long neck must have impeded its progress through the water, presenting a striking contrast to the organisation which so admirably fits the Ichthyosaurus to cut through the waves.

“May it not therefore be concluded (since, in addition to these circumstances, its respiration must have required frequent access of air) that it swam upon or near the surface, arching back its long neck like the swan, occasionally darting it down at the fish which happened to float within its reach? It may, perhaps, have lurked in shoal-water along the coast, concealed among the sea-weed, and, raising its nostrils to a level with the surface from a considerable depth, may have found a secure retreat from the assaults of dangerous enemies; while the length and flexibility of its neck may have compensated for the want of strength in its jaws and its incapacity for swift motion through the water, by the suddenness and agility of the attack which they enabled it to make on every animal fitted for its prey, which came within its extensive sweep.”

More than twenty species of long-necked sea-lizards are known to geologists.

Professor Owen, in his great work on British Fossil Reptiles, when describing the huge Plesiosaurus dolichodeirus from Dorset, suggests that the carcase of this monster, after it sank to the bottom of the sea, was preyed upon by some carnivorous animal (perhaps sharks). It seems, he says, as if a bite of the neck had pulled out of place the eighth to the twelfth vertebræ. Those at the base of the neck are scattered and dispersed as if through more “tugging and riving.” So with regard to its body, probably some hungry creature had a grip of the spine near the middle of the back, and pulled all the succeeding vertebræ in the region of the hind limbs. Thus we get a little glimpse of scenes of violence that took place at the bottom of the bright sunny seas of the period when the clays and limestones of the Lias rocks were being deposited in the region of Lyme-Regis.

As time went on, these curious reptiles increased in size, until, in the period when our English chalk was being formed (Cretaceous period), they reached their highest point (see [p. 147]). After that they became extinct—whether slowly or somewhat suddenly we cannot tell.

Until more is known of the ancient life of the earth, it will not be possible to say with certainty what were the nearest relations of the long-necked sea-lizards. They first appear in the strata of the New Red Sandstone, which is below the Lias. Certain little reptiles, about three feet long, from the former rocks, known as Neusticosaurus and Lariosaurus, seem to be rather closely related to the creatures we are now considering, and to connect them with another group, namely, the Pliosaurs. They were partly terrestrial and partly aquatic; but it is not easy to say whether their limbs had been converted into true paddles or not. At any rate, there is every reason to believe that the long-necked sea-lizards were descended from an earlier form of land reptile. They gradually underwent considerable modifications, in order to adapt themselves to an aquatic life. We noticed that the same conclusion has been arrived at with regard to the fish-lizards. Both these extinct groups, therefore, present an interesting analogy to whales, which are now considered to have been derived, by a like series of changes, from mammals that once walked the earth.

The Plesiosaur presents, on the one hand, points of resemblance to turtles and lizards,—on the other hand, to crocodiles, whales, and, according to some authorities, even the strange Ornithorhynchus. But it will be very long before its ancestry can be made known. In the mean time, we must put it in a place somewhere near the fish-lizards, and leave posterity to complete what has at present only been begun. It must, however, be borne in mind that some of the above resemblances are purely accidental, and not such as point to relationship. Because their flippers are like those of a whale, it does not mean that Plesiosaurs are related to modern whales. It only means that similar habits tend to produce accidental resemblances—just as the whales and porpoises, in their turn, resemble fishes. To make torpedoes go rapidly through the water, inventors have given them a fish-like shape;—in the same way the early forms of mammals, from which whales are descended, gradually adapted themselves to a life in the water, and so became modified to some extent to the shapes of fishes.

The Pliosaurs, above mentioned, are evidently relations, but with short necks instead of long ones. They had enormous heads and thick necks. Fine specimens of their huge jaws, paddle-bones, etc., may be seen at the end of the reptile-gallery at Cromwell Road. One of the skulls exhibited there is nearly six feet long, while a hind paddle measures upwards of six and a half feet in length, of which thirty-seven inches is taken up by the thigh-bone alone. The teeth at the end of the jaws are truly enormous. One tooth, from a deposit known as the Kimmeridge Clay, is nearly a foot long from the tip of the crown to the base of the root. In some, the two jaw-bones of the lower jaw are partly united, as in the sperm-whale or cachalot. Creatures so armed must have been very destructive.