M A I N T A I X I N G THE BALANCE OF LIFE 



IN the attempt to acclimatize animals 

 from other countries, the first condi- 

 tions of success are that climate shall be 

 suitable, food abundant, and the imported 

 animal so generally adapted to his environ- 

 ment that he will be able to hold his own 

 in the struggle for existence with the indi- 

 genous animals subsisting on similar food. 

 Sometimes, in the case of successful accli- 

 matization, the value of the experiment to 

 man depends on its being kept within due 

 bounds, that is to say, on the presence of 

 predaceous animals, which, increasing in 

 the ratio of the new means of subsistence 

 afforded them by the introduced animal, 

 shall serve to restrain the successfully ac- 

 climated species within due bounds, and 

 thus preserve the balance of life. 



It is only in thinly settled countries free 

 from beasts of prey that we are brought 

 face to face with the fact that animals do 

 tend to increase by geometrical progres- 

 sion, and that even those which increase 

 least rapidly, as the horse and the ox, 

 would in a comparatively few years, reach 

 the limits of their subsistence in any coun- 

 try, however vast its area, and require to 

 be exterminated before man could protect 

 his crops or secure any adequate area of 

 pasture for his own flocks and herds. 



Some thirty or forty years ago, when 

 travel over the settled parts of Australia 

 was performed wholly by stage coaches, 

 it was an openly expressed maxim among 

 the stage owners that " horseflesh was 

 cheaper than horse food." In pursuance 

 of this maxim, horses were driven their 

 daily stage of eight or ten miles and turned 

 lo(xse to feed in the bush. Sick horses and 

 mares heavy with foal were left to roam at 

 will until they should be again fit to work; 

 other horses strayed away, and in a very few 

 years there were little troops of wild horses 

 roaming all over the country, sometimes 



settling for months on the best grazing 

 and best watered lands of the squatters' 

 runs. It was not worth while to run them 

 down and lasso them — the squatter had no 

 sufficient market for his domestic stock ; 

 but twenty years later this little incident of 

 a squatter's experience became a very for- 

 midable one, calling for prompt measures 

 to avert the common ruin of horse and cat- 

 tle and sheep farmers all over the country. 

 The wild horses then, in troops of several 

 hundred, took possession of all the water 

 holes in the dry season, and roaming from 

 place to place kept in admirable condition, 

 while the herded cattle by thousands died 

 of drought. The difficulty was met deter- 

 minedly, and by combination among the 

 squatters the wild horses were hunted and 

 shot down systematically. 



Under favorable conditions a troop of 

 horses will double its number in five years, 

 and on this estimate a single pair of horses 

 would increase to five hundred in forty 

 years, and to two thousand in fifty years, 

 but systematically hunted they are easily 

 shot or driven from the haunts of men. 



Undeterred by the lesson taught by this 

 evidence of the tendency to natural increase 

 among horses, the squatters of New Zea- 

 land, having neither kangaroos nor opos- 

 sums, and pining for something to shoot, 

 introduced the English rabbit into their 

 stations. Why should they not ? The rab- 

 bit affords capital shooting, and although 

 his flesh is not highly esteemed it neverthe- 

 less constitutes an important item of food 

 supply in its English home. Its fur too has 

 some small value. Rabbits are by no means 

 a nuisance in England, they are not pro- 

 tected by game laws, and although of course 

 they feed more or less on the crops, the 

 farmer sees both pleasure and profit in 

 leaving a strip of gorse or patch of moor- 

 land for his rabbits, which in many cases 



