Here we are in Australia, ready to go, as the Aboriginal people would say, on walkabout. That means going off into the bush. We’ll see a lot of odd creatures here: monotremes and marsupials. Well, they’re no more odd than we are, really. Except that they live only in Australia and on surrounding islands. Well, got your hats and walking sticks ready? Hopefully, we won’t need more than one first aid kit.
What is that? Definitely not a monotreme or a marsupial. Oh, it’s one of those show-off frilled lizards. They spread their neck frills, hiss and lunge at you, and they can even rise up on their two hind feet and trot after you. They’re quite impressive, actually. But they think far too much of themselves. They’re always appearing on television, in those nature shows and all that. Pay this one no attention. Just walk on.
Well, if it’s not reptiles on the ground, it’s reptiles in the trees, for heaven’s sake! These are green tree pythons. …Well, yes, of course, I can see that they’re not green! They’re obviously not even the same colour. But they are green tree pythons. They’re just juveniles. Take my word for it! I have a PhD in zoology!
Here’s an adult. A rather large specimen, I might add! Believe me, those two youngsters will turn green like this with time. Those pits around its mouth help the python to detect heat, and that makes it easier to find warm-blooded prey. Oh, not to worry! We’re not its natural prey. I was thinking more of a bird or a bat.
At last, we’re getting to the monotremes! Just like those pythons we were looking at, the little spiny anteater you see here lays eggs. That’s why we say that the echidna is a monotreme, a primitive type of mammal. It’s closely related to the animals from which it evolved more than two hundred million years ago. But a mother echidna doesn’t guard a number of eggs, like a python would. No, she lays just one egg into a special pouch on her abdomen. And, after about ten days, the baby hatches. It stays in its mother’s pouch until it starts to develop prickly spikes – at which point, you can’t blame mum for insisting that it gets out!
Here’s the only other type of monotreme on earth today. When Europeans first saw the dried skin, bill and feet of a platypus, they thought it was somebody’s idea of a joke! And they didn’t even know about the platypus’s behaviour, about how it laid an egg and nursed its young. Speaking of nursing, did you know that the milk of monotremes just oozes out onto their fur in special patches, and the babies lick it off, instead of suckling like other mammals? Rather messy, I’d imagine!
I’m feeling a bit sticky myself in this heat. How about a visit to the beach, and a quick dip?
Eurgh! Well, perhaps not! That’s a saltwater crocodile, and they have been known to eat people. Not often, of course. But I don’t want to be one of those front page statistics in the Australian newspapers! And if any of you were to be eaten, they’d probably stick me back at that desk job again, alphabetising animals by their scientific names – which nobody can ever seem to agree on for more than a month at a time! Well, as they say, regression is the better part of valour. Is that right? Anyway, what I mean to say is… let’s retreat. But don’t turn your backs on this beast!
And what is that, down there on the ground? Oh, no! It’s a Sydney funnel-web spider. These are aggressive little spiders, and their venom is quite deadly. It’s a good thing we’re wearing our hiking boots. Back away, slowly and quietly. Don’t make it mad. The rumour is that these fellows have bad tempers. Although how you can tell what our spider is thinking, I have no idea!
Finally, a marsupial! Marsupials give birth to live young. But the babies are very undeveloped – really little more than embryos. Then, these worm-like babies make their way to mum’s pouch, where they latch onto a nipple and start nursing. They complete their development in the pouch.
Now, why people sometimes call this marsupial a koala bear, I do not know. I suppose it’s because it looks like a little toy teddy bear. But it’s not even related to bears. So please, just call it a koala.
And these marsupials are wallabies. Like kangaroos, only smaller. According to the fossil evidence we’ve discovered so far, marsupials first evolved during the Late Cretaceous period, somewhere around one hundred million years ago. They seem to have started out in South America, then roamed up to North America, down to Antarctica, and up to Australia. It wasn’t so hard to move between those places then, because all the continents were in different locations to where they are now. Back then, there were sabre-toothed marsupial cats, big marsupial bears and giant marsupial sloths, as well as kangaroo-like animals and small mousy marsupials that you can still see today. And before you ask… no, I wasn’t around in prehistoric times!
Oh, dear. We would get back to reptiles, wouldn’t we? I suppose it’s only natural: Australia has its fair share of them. Some people call this spiky creature a “moloch”. But others say it’s a “thorny devil” – and there’s no denying the appropriateness of that name! The thorns not only keep other animals from biting it, but they’re arranged in such a way that they gather the dew and funnel the drips of water right into the lizard’s mouth! I’ve been trying to devise a similar system with a tin hat and drainpipes, but I’m getting tired of standing around all night collecting dew! You just can’t beat Mother Nature!
Here are more devils. Tasmanian devils. If you put several of these little marsupials into a confined area with a small amount of meat, you’ll find out how they got that name. You’ve never heard such growling and yowling and hissing in your life! They’ll gobble down hair, bones, intestines – almost anything they can cram in between their sharp little teeth. But they really are quite placid fellows – as long as you don’t get between them and their food. I offered one a dog biscuit once. Did I ever show you this scar on my hand?
Here’s a marsupial you’ll never see in real life. This thylacine, or Tasmanian wolf, used to live on mainland Australia and on the nearby island of Tasmania. It died out in Australia thousands of years ago, maybe because people brought in dogs – now called dingoes – and the dingoes ran wild and took over. But on Tasmania, the thylacines hunted wallabies and other small animals, until the Europeans brought in sheep in the 1800s. Now, if you were a thylacine, would you rather chase a scrawny wallaby that could bound away at high speed, or a nice, fat, slow sheep? Right! So, the thylacines decided they liked the sheep, and the ranchers decided they didn’t like the thylacines, and put a bounty on their heads. So, sad but true, the thylacines were wiped out forever.
Just as people have shoved some animals right out of Australia, they’ve also brought in new ones. Here’s a pushy latecomer! This giant marine toad, as big as a dinner plate, is known in Australia as the cane toad. It was imported with the idea that it would eat grubs and save the sugar cane crop. But it had other ideas. It ate smaller toads, frogs and a lot of the local wildlife instead. It just gulps down anything that will fit into its mouth. It makes baby toads like crazy. And if any animal tries to eat it, it puffs up and oozes out venom from glands on its head, killing the poor animal that’s trying to swallow it! We’ve created another natural disaster that’s now happily hopping around Australia. It just goes to show you, it never pays to mess with Mother Nature!
Well, now you’ve seen some of Australia’s unusual monotremes and marsupials – not to mention a few impressive reptiles, and one obnoxious toad.
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