Chapter 19: Bats
Let it be said at the outset that all the weird stories told about these strange nocturnal animals are founded on invention and in great part on unconscious boasting.
Bats are essentially nocturnal animals, although there are species which embark on short flights in the daytime for exercise.
Their reputation as blood-suckers and vampires is in most cases unjustified, for there are only a few kinds which indulge in this uncleanly way of feeding. That they attack men is also frequently stated, but in the course of my many journeys in the tropical countries of both hemispheres I have never come across an instance of this, although in Brazil and the Argentine I did my best to provoke an attack on myself. As in certain parts of these countries the leaf-nosed, blood-sucking bats occur in large numbers, I deliberately left my feet projecting outside the mosquito net in order to give a vampire the chance of tapping me. But I waited in vain, though bats flew about over my hammock. Perhaps my blood was not sufficiently tasty, or perhaps the uncanny creatures hesitated to attack an animal trapper.
My pack animals frequently had their blood drawn off. Once I watched a blood-sucker fasten itself on the chest of a mule, under the forelegs. With consummate delicacy, so that the sleeping mule could feel nothing, the blood-sucker settled; and only a very slight, almost imperceptible movement of the head betrayed its diabolical occupation. The bat sucked for nearly three minutes, and when I saw that it had drunk its fill, and was preparing to leave its victim, I caught it, and carried it into my tent. I could see traces of blood on its snout and the upper part of its throat. The mule had not awakened during the process, which showed that the bat’s teeth can have caused no pain. My conclusion coincides with that of Humboldt, who maintains that these vampires do not cause the wound in the first place by biting, but soften the skin by sucking, and only when the victim has lost all sense of feeling in the place attacked, do they insert their teeth.
That the bite must have been completely painless, was proved to me by the immobility of the mule, which did not awake even when I pulled the blood-sucker from him. The wound was very slight, and no ill effects developed.
On one occasion I lost a cow from the wounds inflicted by a vampire. The animal had been tapped in more than thirty places and had lost so much blood that in the morning she was completely exhausted and unable to get up. I dispatched her with a revolver shot.
Later, I often noticed that my pack animals, and even the small fox-terrier I had with me, showed traces of vampires, but the only ill-effect of the wounds was that they offered flies and other bloodthirsty insects an easy field for their sucking apparatus.
My men also showed traces of the suckers, and each time they told me they had felt nothing during the night and had only discovered on waking that they had been bitten and their blood sucked.
Beauty is only an idea, and to include bats among the ugly animals is a complete libel. A grotesque appearance is not ugliness, and anyone who will take the trouble to study these animals carefully will find that they do possess a certain beauty which would make them extremely interesting to the eye of the artist.
Seen singly by day as they hang head downwards with their heads hidden in the membrane of their wings, they remind one of old prints where the villain is seen with a cloak thrown over his face.
There are many kinds of bat and their haunts extend over a large proportion of the world. Their manner of life is practically identical everywhere, with only slight differences in feeding and in the beginning and end of the flying periods. They are all, without exception, voracious feeders, and can devour incredible quantities of insects and fruit. The good they do far outweighs the harm, and for this reason bats should everywhere be protected. They are not peaceable animals, and the females are quite as quarrelsome and pugnacious as the males. I have often seen females open the attack and the males are not always the victors.
When fighting, they often bite one another so severely that both combatants are slain.
During these struggles, the bats emit shrill cries, punctuated by snarling and spitting; and the same sounds can be heard when they are flying in large numbers.
An interesting point is that after the birth of a young bat—often there are two—the mother hides her baby in the folds of her wings, and the little thing then immediately fastens itself to the teats and there remains until it is able to fly. Often, even after it has begun to seek its own food, it will return to the mother, who treats it with great affection.
In the course of my travels I frequently tamed captive bats, which in a short time became greatly attached to me, climbing over me as I sat in a chair or lay in bed, and never biting. They are very contented in captivity, grow accustomed to food which they never touch when they are free, and even become importunate beggars.
One kalong, one of the largest of bats, with a body measurement of 43 cm. and a wing-expanse of 160 cm., became so tame in its commodious cage, that at night, if it felt lonely, it would raise shrill screams, and refuse to stop until I came to its cage. It became such a nuisance that I had it shut up in a large thatched hut a long way from my bungalow, but still it forced me out of bed at night. If I left it longer than it liked, it would scold me when I arrived; but soon quietened down and nuzzled against me gratefully, talked to me, and refused to leave me until it had eaten the titbit I had brought with me. I grew very fond of the noisy fellow and decided to set him free. One day I had half of one wall of the hut removed, and in the evening concealed myself to watch the bat. It was a long time before he went outside the hut, and then with wild screams he flew several times round the hut and disappeared into the darkness. I was sorry to lose the faithful creature. It took me a long time to get to sleep, though I had anticipated enjoying my first undisturbed night. But the animal’s loyalty was greater than I had counted on.
At first I thought I was dreaming, but I soon realised that this was no dream. The kalong had torn the mosquito net of the verandah with his claws, had entered my room, and was crawling about my bed, scratching my cheek and arm. His cries were so piercing that I had to stop my ears. When I got up, the animal embraced me; clung to me so closely that I suffered several painful scratches, and could not contain himself for joy at our reunion.
During the daytime, the kalong would remain hanging in its shed, or if it found its way into the house before daybreak, it would stay in my room, clinging to the poles which were used as hangers for dried skins, wrap itself in its wings, and sleep. Whenever it heard my voice, it would emit a low squeak, and if I approached it would open one side of its cloak, peer out blinking, loose one foot, look at me, and at once go to sleep again.
For months I carried this strange companion about with me. When it flew out at night it would always return to the camp in the morning.
I was to lose it in a tragic way. One of my dogs, a vicious animal, caught the bat in his teeth as it was hanging head downwards in the tent, and after a terrible battle, from which the terrier emerged victorious but bleeding from many wounds, the kalong received a bite in the face, which killed it.
When I returned from my ride that afternoon, I found my strange friend lying on the ground. He was still quivering, but had been unable to climb up and suspend himself by his claws.
I shall never forget the appealing look in his big eyes. He took hours to die, but though I immediately did what I could for him, I could not save him.
For a long time I missed my friend, and during the following weeks I often started from my sleep at night thinking I heard his call. Perhaps his voice was coming to me from the Beyond.
Wait, my good friend; one day we shall meet again in the animals’ heaven.
Bats have figured largely in superstition since the earliest times.
Among exotic peoples—and also in many parts of Europe—parts of these animals are used in the preparation of medicines and salves. A special power is attributed to the blood of these winged animals. In Ceylon young men try to smear bats’ blood on the sarong, or loin-cloth of their charmer, to win favour with the fair lady. This custom is also practised in Siam, except that there the expedient is used by the girls. Rubbing bats’ blood on the breasts keeps them small and firm.
Many different parts of the bat are used as talismans. The dried wing-membrane of the flying lemur and flying fox is said to be a protection from illness and evil spirits.
The superstition of the natives of Sumatra is interesting. The men try to collect a large bundle of bats’ tongues, which they dry, then thread on a string, and hang up in the house. They believe them to have the power of checking women’s chatter.
I have often tried these charms, but unfortunately without success.