by Karel Čapek
Mr Povondra dragged the aghast Frankie outside. ‘My respects,’ came a croaking voice from the tank. ‘Come again. Auf Wiedersehen.’
‘Well then, Frankie,’ asked Mr Povondra when they were outside. ‘Learnt something?’
‘Yes,’ said Frankie. ‘Dad, why does that lady wear red stockings?’
11
Of Men-Lizards
It would certainly be an exaggeration to claim that about that time there existed no other subject of conversation or newspaper attention than the talking newts. People and newspapers were also concerned with the next war, with the depression, with the cup final, with vitamins and with fashion; nevertheless, the talking newts did enjoy a great deal of publicity, and moreover of uninformed publicity. That was why Professor Vladimir Uher, an outstanding scientist from Brno University, wrote an article for LidoveNoviny, in which he pointed out that Andrias Scheuchzeri’s alleged ability to utter articulated speech was essentially just a parroting of spoken words and, from a scientific point of view, was not nearly as interesting as a number of other questions surrounding that unusual amphibian, the scientific mystery of Andrias Scheuchzeri lay elsewhere: for instance, where did it come from; where were its origins, the place where it survived entire geological periods; why had it remained unknown for so long when it was now appearing in large numbers virtually throughout the equatorial zone of the Pacific? It would seem that it had recently been multiplying with unusual rapidity; where did that enormous vitality come from in an ancient tertiary creature which, until not long ago, had led a totally unobserved, and hence presumably very sporadic and indeed probably geographically isolated, existence? Was it possible that the environmental conditions of this fossil newt had somehow changed in a biologically favourable direction, so that this rare Miocene relic was now enjoying a new and astonishingly successful evolutionary phase? In that case it could not be ruled out that Andrias would not only multiply quantitatively but also develop qualitatively, so that science would have a unique opportunity for witnessing, at least in one animal species, a major mutation in actu. That Andrias Scheuchzeri could croak a few dozen words and learn a few tricks - a fact which io the layman seemed evidence of some kind of intelligence - was not, in any scientific sense, a miracle. The miracle was the powerful vital élan which had so suddenly and extensively revived the arrested existence of an evolutionarily backward and indeed near-extinct creature. There were a number of special circumstances in this case: Andrias Scheuchzeri was the only newt living in the sea and - even more significantly - the only newt occurring in the Ethiopian-Australian zone, in mythical Lemuria. Might we not almost say that Nature was trying, belatedly and almost precipitously, to catch up on one of the biological potentialities and forms which, in that zone, it had omitted to develop or else been unable to bring to fulfilment? Moreover, it would be surprising if in the oceanic region lying between the Japanese giant salamanders on the one hand and the Alleghanian ones on the other, there existed no connecting link whatever. If Andrias did not exist, we would actually have to postulate its existence in the very places where it has been found; it is almost as if it filled the slot which, in accordance with geographical and evolutionary circumstances, it should always have occupied. Be that as it may, the learned professor’s article concluded, on this evolutionary resurrection of a Miocene newt we observe, with respect and amazement, that the Genius of Evolution on our planet has by no means yet concluded its creative operation.
That article appeared in spite of the editorial board’s silent but unshakable conviction that such learned stuff really had no place in a daily paper. As a result of its publication Professor Uher received a letter from a reader:
Dear Sir,
A year ago I bought a house in the Market Square in Câslav. In the course of looking it over I found a box in the attic with valuable old publications, mostly scientific, such as two annual runs of Hýbl’s periodical ‘Hyllos’ for 1821-22, Jan Svatopluk Presl’s ‘Mammalia’, Vojtëch Sedláček’s ‘The Foundations of the Natural Sciences or Physics’, nineteen annual runs of the encyclopaedic publication ‘Krok’ and thirteen annual runs of the ‘Journal of the Bohemian Museum’. In Presl’s translation of Cuvier’s ‘Dissertation on the Transformations of the Earth’s Crust’ (dating from 1834) I found, inserted as a bookmark, a cutting from an old newspaper with a report of some strange lizards.
Upon reading your splendid article about those mysterious newts I remembered that bookmark and looked it up. I believe that it might be of interest to you and therefore, as an enthusiastic friend of nature and eager reader of your writings, enclose it herewith.
Respectfully yours,
J. V. Najman
The enclosed cutting contained neither the name of the paper nor a date; judging by the type and the orthography, however, it clearly came from the twenties or thirties of the last century; it was so yellowed and worn that it could only be read with difficulty. Professor Uher was on the point of throwing it into his wastepaper basket but somehow he was touched by the antiquity of the printed page; so he began to read. A moment later he gasped ‘Christ!’ and excitedly adjusted his spectacles. This was the text:
Thus far the cutting. Christ, Professor Uher repeated excitedly, why isn’t there a date or the name of the paper from which whoever it was cut this account? And what was that foreign newspaper, and what was the name of that certain captain or of that And which was the little island in the Australian ocean? Why couldn’t people have been more specific then - and, well, a little more scientific? Surely this was a historical record of immense value -
A small island in the Australian ocean, all right. A little lake with salt water. That suggested a coral island, an atoll with a salt lagoon the very place where such a fossil animal might survive, insulated from an evolutionarily more advanced environment and undisturbed in its natural reserve. True, it could not multiply greatly because it would not find very much food in that little lake thereof. So much was clear, thought the professor, catching himself thinking in the archaic language of the newspaper cutting. An animal resembling a lizard, but devoid of scales and walking upon two legs in the manner of Men: that meant either Andrias Scheuchzeri or some other salamander closely related to it. Let’s assume it was our Andrias. Let’s assume that those damned swimmers slew all specimens in the little lake and that but one pair got on board the ship alive, the pair which, but stay!, escaped into the sea near the island of Sumatra. In other words, directly on the equator, in conditions biologically most favourable and in an environment offering unlimited food supplies. Was it possible that such a change of environment imparted to the Miocene newt that powerful evolutionary impulse? It was certain that it was used to salt water; let us imagine its new habitat as a calm, land-locked bay with a great profusion of food. So what happens? Having been transplanted into optimal conditions the newt begins to flourish with colossal vital energy. That was it! The scientist was jubilant. The newt gets down to evolving with boundless appetite; it hurls itself into life like crazy; it multiplies fantastically because its eggs and tadpoles have no specific natural enemies in the new environment. It colonises island after island - though it is odd that it somehow should skip certain islands in its advance. Otherwise it’s a typical migration in search of food. And now comes the question: why didn’t it evolve earlier? Isn’t this perhaps connected with the evidence that in the Ethiopian-Australian zone no salamanders have been, or until quite recently were, recorded? Isn’t it possible that in the course of the Miocene period some changes occurred in that zone which were biologically unfavourable to the salamanders? It’s possible. Or could a specific enemy have appeared, one which simply exterminated the newts? Only on one single small island, in a small enclosed lake, did the Miocene newt survive - though, of course, at the price of evolutionary arrest. Its evolutionary progress was halted. Just like a wound coil-spring which couldn’t unwind. It’s not impossible that Nature had great plans for that newt, that it was meant to evolve further and further,
higher and higher, who could tell how high … (Professor Uher felt a slight shiver run down his spine at this thought; who could tell if Andrias Scheuchzeri had not in fact been meant to become Miocene Man?)
But stay! That under-evolved animal suddenly finds itself in a new, infinitely more promising, environment; the coiled spring of evolution within it is released. And watch that vital elan, that Miocene exuberance with which Andrias hurls himself forward along the road of evolution! How feverishly he makes up for the hundreds of thousands and millions of years of evolution he has missed! Is it conceivable that he will content himself with the evolutionary stage he has reached today? Will the generic upsurge we have witnessed now exhaust itself - or is Andrias still only on the threshold of his evolution and just getting ready to rise to further, and who can say to what, heights?
Such were the reflections and prospects which Professor Vladimir Uher, Doctor of Science, jotted down as he gazed on that yellowed old newspaper cutting, quivering with the intellectual excitement of discovery. I’m going to put it in the newspaper, he said to himself; no one reads scientific journals. Everybody should understand the great natural event we are witnessing! As a headline I’ll have: DO THE NEWTS HAVE A FUTURE?
Except that the editorial staff at Lidove Noviny looked at Professor Uher’s article and shook their heads. Those newts again! I believe that our readers are sick and tired of those newts. Time to give them something different. And anyway a daily paper is no place for this scientific stuff.
In consequence the article on the evolution and future of the newts was never published.
12
The Salamander Syndicate
The Chairman, Mr G. H. Bondy, rang his bell and rose to his feet.
‘Gentlemen,’ he began. ‘I have the honour to declare this extraordinary general meeting of the Pacific Export Company open. Allow me to welcome all those present and to thank them for attending in such large numbers.’
‘Gentlemen,’ he continued with a shaking voice; ‘it is my melancholy duty to acquaint you with some sad news. Captain Jan van Toch is no more. The man who, if I may put it that way, was our founder, the originator of the happy idea of establishing commercial relations with thousands of islands in the distant Pacific, our first captain and most zealous collaborator, has died. He passed away at the beginning of this year on board our ship Sdrka not far from Fanning Island, as a result of a stroke he suffered in the performance of his duty.’ (Probably had a row, poor bugger, was the thought that flashed through Mr Bondy’s mind.) ‘May I ask you to stand in tribute to his shining memory.’
The gentlemen rose, scraping their chairs, and stood in solemn silence, united by the hope that the general meeting would not go on for too long. (Poor old Vantoch, G. H. Bondy thought with genuine emotion. I wonder what he looks like now! Probably dropped him into the sea off a plank - what a splash that must have been! Well, he was a decent chap and he had such blue eyes - )
‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ he added briefly, ‘for commemorating Captain van Toch with such piety; he was a personal friend of mine. I now call upon Mr Volavka, our Manager, to acquaint you with the financial performance which PEC may look forward to this year. The figures aren’t final yet, but please don’t expect them to change substantially by the end of the year. If you please.’
‘Gentlemen,’ Mr Volavka, the Manager, began to burble, and then he came out with it. ‘The situation in the pearl market is most unsatisfactory. After last year, when pearl production had increased by a factor of nearly twenty compared with a favourable year like 1925, the price of pearls began to slip disastrously, by as much as 65 per cent. That is why your Board has decided not to place this year’s output of pearls on the market at all but to hold it in store until such time as demand hardens again. Unfortunately, pearls began to go out of fashion last autumn, probably because the price had dropped so much. Our Amsterdam branch at the present time holds a stock of over 200,000 pearls which for the time being are virtually unmarketable.’
‘On the other hand,’ Mr Volavka continued to burble, ‘pearl production this year has been declining alarmingly. A number of sources had to be abandoned because their yield no longer justified the long voyage. Sources opened up two or three years ago seem to be more or less exhausted. Your Board has therefore decided to turn its attention to other deep-sea products, such as coral, shells and sponges. While it has been possible to stimulate the market in coral jewellery and other ornaments, it is Italian rather than Pacific corals which have so far benefited from this boom. Your Board is moreover examining the feasibility of deep-sea fishing in the Pacific. The main problem is transporting the fish from there to the European and American markets; the results of preliminary investigations are not too promising.’
‘On the other hand,’ the Manager read in a slightly raised voice, ‘a slightly higher turnover has been recorded in respect of various secondary articles, such as exports of textiles, enamelled hollow-ware, wireless sets and gloves to the Pacific islands. This business is capable of further expansion and intensification; even in the current year it will entail only a relatively insignificant deficit. It is, of course, out of the question for PEC to pay out any dividends on its shares at the end of the year; that is why your Board begs to announce in advance that, for this once, it will waive all fees and commissions …’
A prolonged uncomfortable silence followed. (Wonder what this Fanning Island is like, G. H. Bondy mused. Died like a true seadog, good old Vantoch. Great shame. A really good chap. Wasn’t all that old either … no older than me …) Dr Hubka then asked for the floor - so why not just quote from the minutes of the extraordinary general meeting of the Pacific Export Company:
Dr Hubka asked whether liquidation of PEC had at all been considered.
G. H. Bondy replied that the Board of Directors had decided to await any suggestions on this point.
M. Louis Bonenfant criticised the fact that the collection of pearls at source was not being carried out by regular representatives permanently resident there, who would ensure that pearl-fishing was done as intensively and efficiently as possible.
Manager Volavka stated that this had in fact been considered but that it had been felt that this would raise overheads too much. At least 300 salaried agents would be needed; besides, would the meeting please consider how one could ensure that these agents passed on all the pearls found.
M. H. Brinkelaer asked if the Newts could actually be trusted to hand over all the pearls they found; might they not hand them over to persons other than those authorised by the Company?
G. H. Bondy noted that this was the first public mention of Newts. It had been customary in the past not to mention any details of the methods by which the pearls were fished. In point of fact, that was why the inconspicuous title Pacific Export Company had been chosen.
M. H. Brinkelaer inquired why it should be inadmissible in this forum to mention matters which concerned the Company’s interests and which, moreover, had long been known to the general public.
G. H. Bondy remarked that it was not inadmissible but a new departure. He welcomed the fact that it was now possible to speak more openly. As for Mr Brinkelaer’s first question, he was able to state that, to the best of his knowledge, there was no reason to question the absolute honesty and working efficiency of the Newts employed in fishing for pearls and coral. But one had to expect that present sources of pearls either were, or in the near future would be, largely exhausted. As for new sources, our unforgettable collaborator Captain van Toch had died just as he was en route to hitherto unexploited islands. So far it had been impossible to replace him by somebody of equal experience and equal honesty, let alone dedication to the cause.
Col D. W. Bright fully acknowledged the merits of the late Captain van Toch. He pointed out, however, that the captain, whose demise everybody mourned, had pampered those Newts too much. (Hear, hear.) Surely there was no need to supply the Newts with knives and other tools of such high-class quality as had been done by
the late van Toch. There was no need to feed them so expensively. It should be possible to cut down substantially on expenses incurred in the maintenance of the Newts and thus to improve cost-effectiveness of their enterprises. (Loud applause)
Vice-Chairman J. Gilbert agreed with Col Bright but pointed out that in Captain van Toch’s lifetime this had not been feasible. Captain van Toch had insisted that he had personal obligations vis-a-vis the Newts. For a variety of reasons it had not been possible to flout the old man’s wishes in that respect.
Curt von Frisch asked if it was not possible to employ the Newts on other and conceivably more profitable projects than fishing for pearls. One might bear in mind their natural, almost beaver-like, talent for the construction of dams and other submarine structures. It might be possible to use them for deepening harbours, building breakwaters and other hydraulic engineering projects.
G. H. Bondy informed the meeting that the Board of Directors was actively considering just this point; there was no doubt that a great potential existed along these lines. He announced that the number of Newts owned by the Company now totalled approximately 6 million; if one considered that each Newt pair produced about one hundred young each year the Company might have some 300 million Newts at its disposal next year; by the end of a decade the figure would be downright astronomical. G. H. Bondy asked what the Company should do with that enormous number of Newts, bearing in mind that it already had to supply its overcrowded newt farms with copra, potatoes, maize, etc., because of an insufficiency of their natural foodstuffs.
