All language subtitles for Natural Curiosities S01E01 - Confused Great Thinkers of Victorian Europe CC HDTV x264 AC3 1080p

The natural world is full of
extraordinary animals

with amazing life histories.

Yet certain stories are more
intriguing than most.

The mysteries of a butterfly's
life cycle

or the strange biology of
the Emperor Penguin.

Some of these creatures
were surrounded

by myth and misunderstandings
for a very long time,

and some have only recently revealed
their secrets.

These are the animals that stand
out from the crowd,

the curiosities I find most
fascinating of all.

In this programme,
I investigate creatures

that have taken the ordinary
and made it extraordinary.

The chameleon that has an extra
long tongue to catch prey...

..and the giraffe with a neck so long
it can reach the top of trees.

How and why have these animals
stretched nature to the limit?

And also in this programme,

we explore the stories of two animals

that sent shock waves through the
scientific world and beyond.

One is a toad that became the centre
of a scientific storm

and caused accusations of fakery in
the early part of the 20th century.

The other is an Australian animal

that baffled the greatest thinkers
of Victorian Europe

and caused many to question whether
it was even real.

The chameleon is a truly bizarre
creature,

both in its behaviour
and its appearance

unlike anything else on earth.

So, not surprisingly, it's given rise
to all kinds of legends and myths,

This is The History Of The
Four-footed Beasts by Edward Topsell

written in the 17th century.

And he calls the chameleon,

"A fraudulent, ravening and
gluttonous beast,

"impure and unclean by the law of
God."

Some believed it was constructed
by the devil

from parts of other animals,

the tail of a monkey, the skin of a
crocodile,

the tongue of a toad, the horns of a
rhinoceros,

and the eyes of who knows what.

It was a creature sent to the world
to spy for a demon master.

When I first came face to face with
the chameleon more than 50 years ago,

I was struck not only by its beauty,

but intrigued by its strange body,
particularly by its tongue.

The outlandish appearance of the
chameleon

made it much sought-after by
curiosity hunters,

but scientists and naturalists too
were greatly puzzled

by its extraordinary behaviour and
anatomy.

It looked and behaved like no other
reptile.

Even today, we're still discovering
new things about its unique eyes,

its astonishing tongue,

and its ability to change its
appearance.

Chameleons are notoriously hard to
find,

partly because they move so slowly,

but also because they match their
surroundings

in terms of colour so very well.

This one in front of me is a dwarf
chameleon

from Natal in South Africa.

If that's threatened by a snake,

it doesn't bother to change its
colour very much,

because a snake's colour vision
is not very good,

but if it's threatened by a bird,

it does camouflage itself very well
indeed.

Some species of chameleon,

and there are 85 different species in
the family,

can even fine tune their camouflage.

If they detect a snake approaching
from below,

they become lighter in colour and
so less noticeable against the sky.

On the other hand, if the threat
comes from a bird,

they become darker to match the
background beneath them.

A chameleon's colour is affected not
only by its surroundings,

but by the temperature and the light
and its emotional state.

Behind this screen there's a rival
male.

Let's see what happens if I remove
the screen

and let them see one another.

This highly-coloured male is dominant

and he immediately adds bright,
aggressive colours to his display.

The other male remains dark

and too frightened to change colour
and fight back.

It's clear who's the boss.

Chameleons are emotional creatures,

darker colouration signals anger.

This female on the right is not in
the mood

to accept the approaches of this
brightly coloured and hopeful male.

Exactly how chameleons achieve such
dramatic colour changes

greatly puzzled early naturalists.

An Englishman named Barrow,

who travelled in Africa
in the 19th century,

thought the changing colour was
caused by something to do with air.

He wrote, "Previous to the chameleon
assuming a change in colour,

"it makes a long inspiration,

"the body swelling out to twice its
usual size,

"and as this inflation subsides

"the change of colour gradually takes
place."

Well, that's an accurate observation
of what happens

when a chameleon gets angry and then
it's anger subsides,

but actually the change of colour has
nothing to do with air.

A French biologist, Mel Edwards, soon
after that got it about right.

He wrote, "There exist two layers of
membranous pigment

"placed one above the other,

"but disposed in such a way to appear
simultaneously under the cuticle

"and sometimes in such a manner that
one may hide the other."

Which is indeed so.

Today, we know that the chameleon's
skin has three layers

of expendable pigmented cells called
chromatophores.

They contain red, yellow, blue and
white pigments

with a deeper layer of darker
melanin,

which controls the reflection of
light.

The chameleons use colour change not
only to camouflage themselves,

but also to communicate with one
another.

Anyone who looks closely at a
chameleon

is bound to be fascinated by its
eyes.

They protrude on either side of its
head

as though they were mounted on
turrets.

And, in fact, their eyelids are fused
together

except for one tiny spot right in the
middle.

But the most extraordinary thing
about them...

is that they move independently.

So that means the chameleon at one
and the same time

can be viewing above it and below it.

So any insect that lands nearby

is going to be spotted almost
immediately.

It seems that its brain receives
separate messages from each eye

and views them and receives them
alternately very fast

but independent of one another,
they're not integrated.

But the advantage of that is that it
does give this

all-round, three-dimensional view

which is unrivalled.

This extraordinary vision is an
essential element

in the way the chameleon uses its
most astonishing feature,

it's hugely elongated tongue.

How this tongue worked and its
construction

greatly intrigued early naturalists -
and understandably.

This remarkable preserved specimen
shows us in detail

the impressive elongated tongue of a
chameleon.

The physical structure of the
chameleon's tongue

was easy enough to explain,

although it proved to be a somewhat
complicated organ,

a hollow tube with a tapered
cartilaginous rod at its base.

The pad at the end was thought to
be rough and sticky,

so that it could snag its prey.

But the mystery of how a contraption
like this

could be lengthened and projected out
of the mouth

took a little longer to fully
explain.

Perhaps the way a frigatebird
inflates the balloon under its beak,

or how a calling frog blows up its
throat sac could give clues,

both do it with air.

Or maybe the tentacles that carry
a snail's eye,

it projects them by using its blood
as an hydraulic fluid.

But none of them fitted the bill.

It's a much more complex process.

The tongue is a muscular tube

that when relaxed sits on a rod of
cartilage.

When the chameleon is ready to
strike,

muscles at the back of the tongue
push it into launch position.

When the prey is lined up and the
distance calculated,

superfast muscles contract

and propel the tongue forward at
lightning speed.

As the tongue shoots off
the end of the cartilage,

an extra wave of energy drives it
forward to its target.

Then, like a stretched elastic band,

its elasticity pulls it back into the
chameleon's mouth.

Recently, high-speed images revealed
a new detail.

The tip of the tongue, once thought
to be sticky,

is covered in microscopic protrusions

that generate suction
and secures its prey.

Chameleons really are the most
extraordinary creatures

and they hold surprises for us
even today.

Only this year, a scientist working
in Madagascar

discovered a tiny little chameleon
only 29mm long.

It's the smallest known vertebrate in
the world.

It's astounding to realise that all
the organs of a vertebrate's body

could be fitted into such a tiny
little creature,

including that extraordinary tongue.

Next, is the story of another
amazing elongated structure,

not a tongue but a neck.

The giraffe is an animal that can't
fail to impress.

Up to 6m or 19ft in height,

it's hugely imposing,
intriguing in appearance,

and mysterious in its biology.

Our attraction to this unusual
creatures goes back centuries.

And one feature in particular has
piqued our curiosity -

its elongated neck.

Such a structure seemed an
impossibility of nature,

but now we better understand the
complex biology

behind the giraffe's bizarre body.

Our growing knowledge of this
creature

can be traced back to three very
special giraffes

and the story of a royal fascination
for the exotic.

In the 19th century, a giraffe named
Zarafa, Arabic for "charming one,"

made a big impact on Europe socially
and scientifically.

She was one of three captured in 1826
at the order of the Viceroy of Egypt,

who wanted to use them as gifts

to curry favour with France, Austria
and England.

Zarafa, the strongest of the three,
was given to the French,

seen here in a painting by Jacques
Raymond Brascassat.

She travelled from Egypt to
Marseilles by ship.

On reaching France, her keepers felt
it was too risky to continue by boat,

so the decision was made to walk
Zarafa from Marseille in the south

all the way to Paris,

an overland journey of more
than 550 miles.

To some, this looked like a journey
doomed to failure,

but careful planning and the unique
biology of the giraffe

were in its favour.

Very wisely, a forward-thinking
and eminent French scientist

called Geoffroy Saint- Hilaire was
put in charge of the giraffe.

But there was something very
significant about Zarafa

that would be key to the success
of her long journey,

it was her age.

She was a youngster,
just eight months old.

Baby giraffes are very robust

and can stand up and run within an
hour of being born.

They have particularly long legs in
relation to their bodies,

only half a metre shorter than those
of an adult.

Such long legs help them keep up with
their mothers,

so young Zarafa was well-equipped
for walking.

Crucial too was the fuel for Zarafa's
journey.

Young giraffe suckle for up to a year
and Zarafa was bottle-fed.

Throughout the journey, she drank up
to 25 litres of milk a day,

supplied by three milking cows.

She marched on at a steady pace with
her trusty entourage.

After nearly 200 miles,
Zarafa reached Lyon

and Saint- Hilaire broke the walk.

He hoped to put Zarafa onto a boat

to go down-river for the rest of the
journey.

As they waited, 30,000 people flocked
to see Zarafa.

To the public, she was a strange and
exotic creature,

and they were intrigued why such
a long neck should exist,

and curious about how an animal
could support its weight.

In those early days, giraffe were
seen as freaks, strange horned camels

whose humps had been flattened by the
stretching of their necks.

But this was exactly what attracted
Saint- Hilaire to Zarafa.

He was fascinated by genetic
exaggerations

and how they came to be.

Clearly, the giraffe's long neck

enables them to feed on leaves beyond
the reach of other browsers.

But how could they physically hold up
such a long neck vertically?

DAVI D LAUGHS

Studies of giraffe anatomy

have revealed just how the neck
is supported.

A long thick ligament like a cable
runs the whole length of the neck.

This counterbalances the weight of
the head and the neck,

and in its relaxed position,
it's tight.

So keeping the neck straight and
the head up

involves very little muscular effort.

Bending the neck to reach down is
more difficult,

because the tough ligament has to be
stretched.

But was the ability to feed from
tall trees

the only reason for having a long
neck?

As the habits of giraffe in the wild
became better known,

people discovered that rival males

fought one another by jousting with
their necks.

Was that the reason that they had
developed long necks?

But then someone pointed out that the
females had long necks too,

so that suggestion was discarded.

In truth, there isn't a neat single
answer,

but access to high food, better
vigilance

and temperature regulation may all
have shaped the giraffe's long neck.

As she walked on, Zarafa continued to
attract inquisitive onlookers,

few had set eyes on such a creature,
she appeared a natural impossibility.

How could a giraffe pump the blood up
such a long neck to its brain?

And why didn't the blood rush back
down into its feet?

The giraffe's neck may be very tall,

but, in fact, it contains exactly the
same number of bones as our own,

that is to say seven.

But its blood pressure is twice as
high as ours.

In fact, it's higher than any other
known animal.

The pump that produces this pressure,
the heart,

surprisingly is not particularly big
but it is hugely powerful.

This is the left ventricle that has
been cut through

and you can see how thick the muscle
is, getting on for about 8cm.

This great pump produces blood,

squirts it up the artery to the head,

and then when it comes down through
the jugular vein

there are pocket-shaped valves

which prevent the blood from flowing
backwards into the head

if the animal lowers its head in
order to have a drink.

Giraffes find it very awkward to
drink from the ground.

And, in fact, they rarely do so,

they get most of their water from
leaves and shoots.

The only way to get their mouth down
to the water

is to splay their forelegs or bend
them at the wrist joint.

The giraffe, in fact, has a
relatively short neck compared to its
legs.

Antelope and zebra can reach down to
the ground

without bending their legs.

Only the giraffe and its rainforest
relative the okapi

have necks that are so short relative
to their legs

that they must splay or bend them.

So perhaps the most remarkable
feature of the giraffe

is the length of its legs.

They certainly were key to
Zarafa's success.

At Lyon, there was a plan to rest
her legs from walking

and to finish the journey to Paris
by boat,

but all didn't go according to plan.

The boat didn't appear in Lyon,

so she walked on and finally got to
Paris.

It's took her a total of 41 days

to complete the journey of 550 miles
to Paris.

Saint- Hilaire, her trusty
companion, was exhausted,

but the giraffe was very fit.

He wrote, "She gained weight and much
more strength from the exercise.

"Her muscles were more defined, her
coat smoother and glossier

"upon her arrival than they were in
Marseille."

Zarafa was presented
to King Charles X

and temporarily installed in a
greenhouse

in the grounds of the
Jardin des Plantes.

She was a true animal ambassador

and 60,000 people saw her in the
first three weeks in Paris.

In the early 19th century, giraffes
were a novelty

and their biology and lives in the
wild was still a mystery.

Zarafa's success was due to a unique
interplay

of the giraffe's unusual
characteristics and good timing.

Her youth, long legs and a diet
with milk

powered her journey
right across France.

A body that was first considered
bizarre

was revealed to be perfectly evolved.

Our story began with three giraffe
that were given to Europe.

Zarafa was the most robust of them
and she lived a further 18 years.

The Austrian lasted just a year.

And the one sent to King George IV of
England died after two.

Saint- Hilaire learnt much from Zarafa

and he became a key figure

in the blossoming zoological research
in France.

The giraffe brought to England

triggered a surge of interest in
animal research

that shifted the centre of the
zoological gravity

from France to England.

So we can thank Zarafa for her
early role

in unravelling the biological
mysteries

of the giraffe's extraordinary body
and stretched neck.

When the first Europeans arrived in
Australia,

they were shocked by the animals
they found there.

Nothing in Europe could compare with
the bizarre upright grazers

hopping across the grassland
landscape

carrying their young in pouches.

Kangaroos were obvious oddities,

but another even stranger creature

also caught the attention of early
settlers.

It lived along river banks and swam
in the water.

Those first Europeans who saw it
called it a "water mole,"

but that name didn't last long.

Inside this box is one of the first
specimens of platypus

ever to be seen outside Australia.

It was sent to England in 1798 by
Captain John Hunter,

the Governor of New South Wales.

This one small animal would take
the scientific world by storm

and transform the careers and
reputations

of some of the leading thinkers of
the time.

The platypus seemed to be a
concoction of different animals,

part bird with its bill and part
mammal with its furry body.

When Charles Darwin first encountered
one in the wild, it baffled even him.

"Surely," he wrote, "two distinct
creators must have been at work."

The task of describing the first
platypus specimen

fell to naturalist George Shaw,

who worked in the Department of
Natural History in the British
Museum.

And he viewed this remarkable
specimen

with a fair degree of caution.

This is a first edition of a journal
called A Naturalist's Miscellany,

which was published a few years after
his examination,

and it contains not only an article
by him

but a nice picture of the animal
concerned.

And at the end he says, "On a subject
so extraordinary as the present,

"a degree of scepticism is not only
pardonable but laudable.

"And I ought perhaps to acknowledge

"that I almost doubt the testimony
of my own eyes

"with respect to the structure of
this animal's beak."

It's said that Shaw was so determined
to make sure

that he was not a victim of some
elaborate hoax

that he actually cut behind the bill

to make sure it hand't been sewn on
by some mischievous forger.

In the late 18th century, the world
was opening up,

travellers were returning from
overseas with all kinds of wonders.

Among them were specimens of
creatures that people had come
to think of as being myths,

such as mermen and mermaids.

These were, of course, hoaxes

put together with parts from
different animals,

so it's understandable that Shaw had
doubts

about the authenticity of his new
furry specimen.

Despite his misgivings, he decided to
give it a scientific name,

platypus, which means "flat footed."

He didn't know however that a beetle
had already been given this name

and some years later,
another taxonomist very properly gave
it a new one,

Ornithorhynchus, which means
"bird snout."

But platypus is still the name that
most people use.

But what type of creature was it?

George Shaw believed it to be a
mammal because of its furry body.

All mammals feed on milk during the
first part of their lives,

milk that is produced by their
mother's mammary glands.

But could an animal with a large flat
bill really suckle?

Some scientists thought that was
impossible,

and anyway they couldn't believe the
platypus and the monkey

could belong to the same group of
animals.

But that view was to change.

Some 30 years after George Shaw
described the platypus,

a German naturalist, Johann Meckel,

produced this wonderful collection of
anatomical studies.

Meckel's meticulous and detailed work

would help identify the true nature
of this animal.

Here...

..we can see his drawing of a male
platypus showing clearly the claw.

Meckel also reported the existence
of simple glands

beneath the thick fur of the female
platypus,

glands that he suggested
secreted milk.

There could be little doubt that
these glands produced something,

but even then several scientists
doubted Meckel's claims

and suggested rather desperately

that the glands secreted not milk
but a lubricant.

Today, we know that Meckel was right.

And I was once able to use
an optical probe

to peer into a platypus' burrow

and see a female platypus nurturing
her single baby.

Yes! And there it is, it's milk.

Milk is the perfect food,

it provides the growing youngster
with everything it wants.

And only mammals produce milk.

In most mammals, of course, it comes
from a nipple,

but in this very primitive mammal it
simply oozes through the skin.

But 19th-century biologists had no
such tricks to help them,

they had to unravel the strange
biology of Australian mammals

from just a few shrivelled remains of
long-dead specimens.

40 years after their discovery
of the platypus,

a brilliant young anatomist, who was
to become a giant of 19th-century
science, joined the debate.

This is a statue of Richard Owen.

Owen was a formidable man,

the founding Director of the Natural
History Museum in Britain,

he was once described as having so
much brain as to require two hats.

The platypus would become a central
character in Owen's career.

His work on this small creature

would help him secure election to the
prestigious Royal Society,

an exclusive group of scientists
and thinkers.

Owen had an advantage over his
European colleagues.

Australia was a British colony

and Owen used his contacts to supply
him with specimens.

Eventually, two baby platypuses
arrived

and it was obvious to him that they
would have no difficulty in suckling.

They had not yet developed the bill
that would have made it awkward.

So he accepted that platypus babies
like other mammal babies

were indeed raised on milk.

But the biggest mystery of the
platypus was still unsolved.

Did this animal lay eggs just like
reptiles or birds,

or did it give birth to live young?

Owen was at the heart of that debate.

These jars contain the bodies of
several platypus

that were shot and sent back here to
the museum

for Richard Owen to examine.

His determination to prove whether or
not they laid eggs

was going to cause the death of quite
a number of platypus.

The Australian aborigines were
absolutely clear,

they did lay eggs, but that was not
good enough for Owen,

he knew better then any Australian
aboriginal.

He did concede that it might be

that the eggs were retained inside
the body and hatched there

so that the young were born live,
but that's as far as he would go.

Eggs were also sent back.

Some of them were fake and some of
them belonged to snakes.

It was going to be some decades

before the puzzle of the platypus was
finally solved.

The platypus now became embroiled

in the greatest scientific debate of
the Victorian era.

Did species evolve or were they
created?

Darwin's Theory of Evolution

suggested that species could change
over time,

so an intermediate form that laid
eggs but had fur like a mammal

was to be expected.

But that was too much of a stretch
even for Owen's great brain.

In 1884, more than 80 years after
this first platypus specimen

had been examined by George Shaw,

William Hay Caldwell arrived in
Australia funded by a Royal Society
scholarship.

One of his main aims was to solve
the platypus egg question once and
for all.

After several months in Queensland,

and with the help of the local
aborigines,

he finally got the answer.

He shot a female platypus

soon after she had laid an egg in her
nest burrow

with a second egg about to emerge
from her vent.

And they looked like this.

It was at last visible evidence that
this animal did indeed lay eggs.

He sent a telegram to a scientific
gathering in Montreal,

it was brief and to the point,

"Monotremes oviparous,
ovum meroblastic."

These four words
to the scientifically initiated

meant that the platypus laid eggs

and that the eggs consisted of an
undivided large yolk

just like a bird's egg.

The mystery was at last solved.

Richard Owen, who had refused to
believe a mammal could lay an egg,

was by now 80 years old and he was no
longer held in the same esteem

as in the early part of his career.

The platypus had helped establish
his reputation,

but now the riddle of this creature's
reproduction had proved him wrong.

It's extraordinary to think that this
small animal

fooled and confounded many of the
great scientific minds of
19th-century Europe.

Not a hoax, but a true curiosity
and one like no other.

The egg-laying platypus was hardly
believable to Victorian researchers,

but evolution has thrown up many
unusual mating strategies

and in the early part
of the 20th century,

the anatomy of a particular amphibian
started an argument

that, like the platypus, led to
accusations of forgery.

This is the curious tale of the
midwife toad.

Midwife toads are not native
to Britain,

they were introduce
about a century ago

and since then have been slowly
spreading over England.

Their natural home is Europe,
from Germany to Spain.

And in the 1920s, their mating habits
caused a media sensation.

Investigations into the way the body
of the male toad

changed according to its environment
led some to believe

it might be possible to breed a race
of superhumans.

To understand why, we must first know

what makes the midwife toad
so different from any other frog
or toad.

Amphibians were among
the first backboned animals
to take to the land.

Since then, they've colonised
most habitats

from rainforests to deserts
and mountains.

Despite spending much of their lives
on land,

most frogs and toads need water to
reproduce,

whether it be in a small vase plant
or a large lake.

But mating in water is a slippery
business.

Male toads, however, have a special
adaptation,

black warty swellings on their
wrists called nuptial pads,

which enable them to grip their
partners securely during sex.

Once the female produces her eggs,

the male releases his sperm and then
let's go, his job is done.

But midwife toads are different,

the male does not have nuptial pads
on his wrists.

And that's because he doesn't mate in
water, he mates on land.

The female produces her eggs and then
he takes them around his legs

with an action that's been compared
to a man trying to put on his
trousers without using his hands.

So it is the male toad that is the
actual midwife, not the female.

Midwife toads tend to live in places
where open water is scarce.

Once the male has successfully
wrapped a string of eggs around his
legs,

he usually hides under a rock where
it's suitably damp.

He may have as many as 150 eggs

and he hides away for up to
two months while they develop.

Then, just before the eggs hatch,

he sets off to find water for his
emerging tadpoles.

Now, the tadpoles of most frogs
and toads

turn into the adult form
within a matter of weeks,

but not so the midwife toad -
it takes much, much longer.

In fact, sometimes they may even
overwinter in the form of a tadpole,

which is why perhaps midwife toad
tadpoles are such whoppers.

Frogs and toads are widely used in
biological studies

because they're easy to keep

and the different stages of their
life cycles are easy to observe.

So it's no surprise that the unusual
behaviour of the midwife toad

should attract the attention of many
biologists.

One was an Austrian scientist
called Paul Kammerer,

who worked in Vienna in the early
part of the 20th century.

And his discoveries quickly brought
him great fame.

But the toad would become a curse

that would haunt him until
the end of his life.

Kammerer was greatly influenced

by the great French zoologist
Jean- Baptiste Lamarck,

who, in 1799, published his theory

that characteristics acquired by an
animal during its life

could be inherited by its offspring.

That a giraffe, for example,

reaching upwards to nibble the
topmost shoots of trees

would, over time, lengthen
its neck muscles

and that this increase would then be
inherited by its offspring.

And so on for generation after
generation.

Lamarck's theory was largely rejected
after Charles Darwin proposed

a different mechanism for evolution

based on changes to an animal's
genetic make-up.

Kammerer was keen to prove that
Lamarck was right after all.

But giraffes are not the ideal
experimental animal,

so he needed one he could keep in a
lab and that would reproduce quickly.

And his attention fell
on the midwife toad.

Kammerer became fascinated

with the unusual nature of the
midwife toad's reproduction.

Why did males like this one

carry eggs around his legs
and could this be changed?

He wondered if their biology might be
related to their natural environment,
which is largely arid.

Kammerer decided to see what would
happen

if he kept the toads in a warm,
humid tank

with access to pools of cool water.

His work with the toads would last
many years

and involve several generations,
but eventually he noticed changes.

Some male toads abandoned
carrying the eggs

and instead the females laid them
directly in water.

Over several generations,
Kammerer had managed to change
the midwife toad

from being a land-breeding animal
to one that bred in water.

But the most extraordinary discovery
came as he continued breeding
these toads.

He noticed that the wrists of some
of the males

developed warty-looking structures

just like the nuptial pads
of other frogs and toads

which are normally used by males

to grip females when fertilising
her eggs.

His work suggested that somehow,

by altering the environment
in which they lived,

a toad's body could be changed

and that change was then passed on
to future generations.

Kammerer's work was taking place at
the end of the First World War

and political movements
on the left and the right

were then keen to exploit
scientific discoveries.

Despite his subject
being a small toad,

some saw an opportunity to extend his
findings beyond the laboratory.

He was hailed as a second Darwin
in the New York Times.

Some newspapers got carried away

and suggested that Kammerer's
discoveries could apply to humans.

His work could help, in other words,
to breed a race of superhumans.

Whether he liked it or not, Kammerer
was now in the spotlight.

He set off on a lecture tour across
Europe and America.

In Cambridge, the Professor of
Zoology hailed his achievements

and put one of Kammerer's toads
on display.

But not everyone was convinced.

An American zoologist by the name
of GK Noble wrote a damning article

in the prestigious scientific journal
Nature.

Noble examined one of Kammerer's toad

and declared that its black nuptial
pads were fakes,

produced by injecting a black dye.

Kammerer denied this. Someone,
he said, had interfered
with his specimens

and was trying to ruin him.

But the damage to his name was done.

Six weeks after the Nature article
accusing him of forgery,

Kammerer wrote a letter to another
leading scientific journal.

This is an extract of what it said.

"On the basis of this state
of affairs,

"I dare not, although I myself
have no part in these falsifications
of my prior specimens,

"any longer consider myself
a proper man to accept your call.

"I see that I'm also not in
a position to endure this wrecking
of my life's work,

"and I hope I shall gather together
enough courage and strength

"to put an end of my wrecked life
tomorrow."

Soon after writing that letter,

he walked into the hills
around his home and shot himself.

Whether or not Kammerer's suicide

was purely down to the fallout from
his midwife-toad experiments,
we can't be sure -

there were many other problems
in his personal life -

but there can be little doubt that
the scandal surrounding his work

would have weighed heavily
on his mind.

Since Kammerer's death, a specimen
of male midwife toad

WITH nuptial pads has been found
in the wild.

Some scientists now believe

that environmental influences can
change the way some genes behave

and that these changes can indeed be
passed on to the next generation.

Perhaps midwife toads possess the
gene to grow these structures,

but it's only switched on in certain
situations.

Does this prove Kammerer was right?

No-one has been able to repeat
Kammerer's experiments
with midwife toads,

so we don't know for sure
if he falsified his findings,

or whether he had stumbled
upon a quirk of inheritance
ahead of its time

and beyond the understanding
of scientists of his era.

What is certain is that the nature of
how species inherit their
characteristics

is more complex than he or others at
the time originally thought.

The curious lives of the midwife
toad and the duck-billed platypus

perplexed and wrong-footed science
for some considerable time.

But in the end, both these creatures

helped us to better understand the
way animals evolve.