One bright October morning,Fabiano Calleia,a researcher with the Federal University of Amazonas,was out in the lowland rainforest of Manaus,Brazil,tracking his usual group of eight pied tamarins as the small,dark monkeys with their dapper white shrugs grazed on the fruits of a fig tree. Suddenly the breakfast calm was shattered by the distinctive sound of a baby tamarins cry. A male tamarin clambered up and down the tree,vainly trying to locate the sounds source. And then Calleia saw,to his astonishment,the cries werent coming from a tamarin pup,but rather from a margay,an ocelot-like cat with large eyes,large paws and a large appetite for monkey meat. The margay was slinking through some nearby vines,simulating simian sounds nonstop as it headed the tamarins way.
Calleia and Fabio Rohe,the manager for the Wildlife Conservation Societys Amazon programme,published their description of the first official field observation of margay mimicking behaviour in the journal Neotropical Primates last year. The report is just one of a host of recent discoveries of priceless phonies,cases of mimicry from unexpected quarters that,by now we should have learned to expect. Scientists recently discovered that in some ant species,the queen is a consummate percussionist,equipped with a tiny,uniquely ridged organ for stridulating out royal fanfares that help keep her workers in line.
Baby German cockroaches of both sexes have been found to mimic the smell and feel of adult female cockroaches,the better to dupe adult males into spreading their wings and exposing the hidden pantries beneathpools of beery maltose sugar,proteins and fats. Within-species mimicry is generally rare in nature,said Coby Schal,a professor of entomology at North Carolina State University,who recently reported with his colleagues in Animal Behaviour on the gambit they dubbed jail baiting.
Perhaps the most remarkable case of mimicry is of the mimic octopus of Indonesia,with so many shape-shifting,shade-changing tricks at its disposal even eight sleeves cannot hold them. A report published this month in the Biological Journal of the Linnean Society presents the evolutionary backstory to Thaumoctopus mimicus,a marine mollusk discovered and described only in the last dozen years. Like most octopuses,T. mimicus can use its nervous system to instantly change colours into a perfect wallpaper blend. Unlike most other octopuses,the mimic will sometimes choose to make itself more conspicuous to potential predators.If it must venture out to forage in dangerous open waters,it assumes a menacing disguise appropriate to context. For skating along the sea bottom,the octopus turns its skin bumpy and beige,compresses its body,pulls its limbs to its side: its a toxic flatfish,undulating its fins,staring you down with its top-sided eyes. When its being pestered by a damselfish,it will turn one of its arms into a sea snake,with the contrasting banding pattern of a sea snake,and with the tip of the arm thickened to look like the snakes head, said Healy Hamilton,a biodiversity and informatics expert at the California Academy of Sciences and an author on the report.
We humans also like our mimicry in small,imperfect doses. Psychologists are coming to appreciate the profound importance of nonconscious mimicry in making us feel loved and appreciated,or simply smoothing the edges of our everyday affairs. Without realising it,when were conversing with friends,we match our tone of voice and speech rhythms to theirs,adopt similar body posture and even imitate their tics. Studies have shown that,when students are instructed to work cooperatively with somebody who engages in either repeated hair touching or foot shaking,the students soon start fiddling with their hair or waggling a foot. Waiters who repeat their customers orders word for word,or mimic a customers body language,earn higher tips than waiters who paraphrase the order or forgo the gestural mirroring.




