The American Toad 



Among green foliage and in bright light the toad's coat be- 

 comes conspicuously spotted and striped, so that he blends per- 

 fectly with the details and the alternating light and shadow 

 of the grasses and leaves about him. (Colour Plate III, also Fig. 

 8 1.) Even his size and shape tend to make him seem to the 

 passer-by a mere bit of rough wood or stone or a lump of earth. 



The colour of the toad's skin can change through a long 

 range, i.e., from light grey or yellowish to almost black. The 

 toad on the sandy road in sunshine is light yellowish with a few 

 darker markings. The sleepy toad just out of his burrow is rich 

 dark brown, probably without markings of any sort. On a bright 

 afternoon the toad in the grass of lawn or meadow becomes light 

 or dark brown, but conspicuously striped with cream colour or 

 light brown, and perhaps has touches of red. (Colour Plate III.) 



This change to a colour which corresponds with the colour 

 of his surroundings (often making the toad as invisible as though 

 he carried the magic fern seed in his pocket) may take place 

 within a few minutes, but any decided change usually requires 

 considerable time. Then, too, all the toads that are subject to 

 the same general conditions may not take on the same coloura- 

 tion. 



However, his colour and his power of changing it are not 

 the only means by which the toad is adapted to life. By every 

 detail of structure from the tongue with its free hinder part 

 and muscles of lightning rapidity, and the large elevated eyes 

 situated like watch-towers at the highest possible point, to the 

 strong back legs adapted for jumping and swimming, the toad 

 is fitted to cope with all situations. The power to jump is likely 

 to be a great advantage in the world of animals, for such a sud- 

 den movement from an unexpected quarter will startle the en- 

 emy just enough to allow escape. 



The toad is fitted for his place in life by what he does, as well 

 as by what he is. Let an enemy seize him roughly, and he is a 

 dead toad. "Playing dead" saves him many a time. He will 

 lie on his back with scarcely any perceptible motion for minutes 

 at a time. (See Figs. 79 and 80.) Even the breathing movements 

 seem to be suspended. Suddenly one leg is thrust out, then 

 another, the eyes open wide, and in an instant more, the toad 

 has turned over and is ready for new emergencies. Whether this 

 habit is a protective instinct, or whether the toad really is insen- 



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