Nature's Teachings. John George Wood
in order to extricate it.
Below the head of the pike is a view of a Shark’s jaws, as seen from the front.
Here, again, we have a similar arrangement of teeth, row after row of which lie with their points directed towards the throat of the fish. As, however, the pike and the snake swallow their prey whole, their teeth need be nothing but points. But, as the Shark is obliged to mangle its prey, and seldom swallows it whole, its teeth are formed on a different principle, each tooth being flat, wide, sharply pointed, and having a double edge, each of which cuts like a razor. So knife-like are they, indeed, that when a whale is killed, the sharks which surround it bite off huge mouthfuls of blubber, and, as they swarm by hundreds, cause no small loss to the whalers.
Many a man has lost a leg by a shark, the fish having bitten it completely through, bone and all, and there have been cases where a shark has actually severed a man’s body, going off with one half, and leaving the other clinging to the rope by which he was trying to haul himself on board.
This mode of defence is, perhaps, one of the most primitive in existence, and takes a wonderful variety of forms. The spiked railings of our parks and gardens, the broken glass on walls, and even the spiked collars for dogs, are all modifications of this principle.
On the illustrations are several examples of spikes used for military purposes. The first is known by the name of “Chevaux-de-frise,” and is extensively used in forming an extemporised fence where no great strength is needed. The structure is perfectly simple, consisting of a number of iron bars with sharpened ends, and an iron tube some inches in diameter, which is pierced with a double set of holes. When not in use, the bars and tube can be packed in a small compass, but when they are wanted, the bars are thrust through the holes as shown in the illustration, and the fence is completed in a few minutes. The horizontal bars are linked together by chains, so as to prevent them from being shifted, and a defence such as this is generally used for surrounding parks of artillery and the like.
All who have the least acquaintance with military matters must be familiar with the “Square,” and its uses in the days of old. I say in the days of old, because in the present day the rapid development of guns and rifles has entirely destroyed the old arrangement. So lately, for example, as the day of Waterloo, troops might manœuvre in safety when they were more than two hundred yards from the enemy. Now, a regiment that attempted to manœuvre in open ground would be cut to pieces by the rifles of the enemy at a thousand yards’ distance.
In those days, however, the square was a tower of safety when rightly formed. It was formed in several rows. The outer line knelt, with the butts of their muskets on the ground, and the bayonet pointing upwards at an angle of forty-five. The others directed their muskets towards the enemy in such a manner that nothing was presented to him but the points of bayonets and the muzzles of loaded muskets. In all probability the battle of Waterloo would have been lost but for the use of the “square,” against which the French cuirassiers dashed themselves repeatedly, but in vain.
However admirable may be the organization of the square, whether it be hollow, or whether it be solid, like the “rallying square,” the principle is the same as that of the chevaux-de-frise.
In the next illustration is shown the “Abattis,” one of the most important elements of extemporised fortifications, and as simple as it is important.
In any wooded country an abattis can be made in a very short time by practised hands. All that is required is to cut down the requisite number of trees, strip off the leaves and twigs, and then cut off the smaller branches with sloping blows of the axe, so as to leave a tolerably sharp point on each. The trees are then laid side by side, with the ends of the branches towards the enemy, and, the trunks being chained together, a wonderfully effective defence is constructed.
Not only is it almost impossible for the bravest and strongest man to force his way through the branches, even if the abattis were undefended, but the tree-trunks afford shelter for swarms of riflemen, who can pick off their assailants by aiming between the branches, themselves being almost unseen, and entirely covered.
In Southern Africa, during the late wars, the abattis was found to afford the best defence against the Kafirs, and that when the waggons and abattis were united so as to form a fortress, not even the naked Kafir, with all his daring courage, could force his way through them. Even artillery has but little power against the abattis, which allows the shot to pass between the branches, and is very little the worse for it. Accordingly, it is in great use for defending roads, especially those which are bounded by high banks, and makes a formidable obstacle in front of gates.
The two figures on the left of the same illustration represent two modes of carrying out the same principle, the one showing it as used in European warfare, and the other as a weapon of defence which has been employed from time immemorial, and is now in full use in many parts of the world.
Both these weapons are intended either to obstruct the approach of an enemy, or to cover the flight of a retreating force. The most simple and most ancient is the Ranjow, which is shown on the right hand of the illustration. The ranjow is nothing but a wooden stick varying in length from eighteen inches to nearly three feet, and sharply pointed at each end. In Borneo, China, &c., the ranjows are almost invariably made of bamboo, as that plant can be cut to a sharp point by a single stroke of a knife. (See page 59.)
When they are to be used, each soldier carries about a dozen or so of them, and sticks one end of them into the ground, taking care to make the upper end lean towards the enemy. Simple as are these weapons, they are extremely formidable, for it is necessary to pull up every ranjow before the troops can advance. Sometimes it has happened that a body of soldiers are driven over their own ranjows, and then the slaughter is terrible.
Some years ago a number of sketches were taken on the spot from scenes in the Chinese war. Among them was one that was absolutely terrible in its grotesqueness. It represented a piece of ground thickly planted with ranjows, over which the Chinese who had fixed them had been driven. They were simply hung with human bodies in all imaginable and unimaginable attitudes, some transfixed on a single ranjow, and others hanging on three or four, the body and limbs being alike pierced by them.
That ranjows were once used in Great Britain is evident from a discovery made by Col. Lane Fox. He had been excavating the soil around an old Irish fort, and deep beneath the bog he found a vast quantity of ranjows still set as the ancient warriors had left them. They were evidently used to defend a passage leading to the fort, and all of them were carefully set with their points outwards. Col. L. Fox was good enough to present me with several of these ancient weapons, which are now in my collection.
On the left is seen a piece of ground strewed with Caltrops, or Crow’s-feet, as they are sometimes called. These very unpleasant implements are made of iron, and have four sharp points, all radiating from one centre, so that no matter how they may be thrown, one point must be uppermost. They are used chiefly for the purpose of impeding cavalry, but I should think, judging from the specimens which I have seen, that infantry would find them very awkward impediments.
As for natural ranjows, they are so numerous that only a very few examples can be given.
The most perfect and most familiar example is, perhaps, the common Hedgehog, which, when rolled up, displays an array of sharp points so judiciously disposed, that it fears but very few foes. The same may be said of the Australian Echidna, or Porcupine Ant-eater, and the Porcupine itself. Whether the radiating bristles of the larva of the Tiger-moth, commonly called the Woolly Bear, come under the same category, I cannot say, but think it very likely.
Among vegetables the analogues are multitudinous. See, for example, the spikes of the Spanish and Horse Chestnuts, and especially the hair-like but formidable bristles which defend the common Prickly Pear. Indeed, all that tribe of plants is furnished so abundantly with natural ranjows, that a hedge of prickly pear forms the best defence which a house and garden can have.
Another example of natural ranjows is seen in the Tree-caddis, one of which is