The Diets of Parallel Pigs

Peccaries from South America

The word "ungulate" refers to a broad category of mammals that are generally large and herbivorous. They form a natural evolutionary group, although only if you include the cetaceans, which are descended from vaguely hippo-like ancestors. The word comes from the Latin word for "hoof", and the great majority of living ungulates have hooves of one kind or another. Even ignoring the cetaceans there are exceptions, but it doesn't take a great stretch of the imagination to see that camels, for instance, are at least the same general kind of animal as deer or cows.

All living ungulates can be placed into one of two mammalian orders: the artiodactyls, which includes the cloven-footed kinds, and the perissodactyls, which includes, among others, the horses. If you start looking at fossils, however, it becomes clear that other ungulate orders once existed. Most were very early, dying out in the first half of the Age of Mammals, representing early branches in the great ungulate family tree that ultimately proved unsuccessful.

Oligocene (Pt 14): The Southern Horses That Weren't

Scarritia

30 million years ago, South America obviously lacked horses, since those (still three-toed at the time) originated in the north, and the southern continents had long been isolated from their homeland. What it did have, however, were a group of mammals called the notohippids, a name that literally translates as "southern horses". While they might not be closely related, the name might lead one to suspect that they had at least a resemblance to the modern animals.

They didn't.

Well, not much. When the name was originally coined, for the Miocene genus Notohippus, back in 1891, it was assumed that they really were horses, or at least closely related. This is because of the shape of their teeth which, did indeed resemble those of equines. It only took until 1914 to realise that, teeth aside, they weren't very horse-like. That their teeth were similar suggests a similar diet with plenty of tough vegetation, and their head was elongated in an almost horse-like fashion to accommodate them... but that's pretty much where the resemblance ends. For one thing, they had claws, not hooves; their bodies were also stockier, albeit with long limbs that may have given them a certain agility.

Prehistoric Mammal Discoveries 2024

Zalamdalestes

I have reached the end of another year and that means it's time for what has become a tradition on this blog over the last eight years: a look back at some of the discoveries about fossil mammals made in 2024 that didn't make into the regular posts. As usual, this will be a quick whistle-stop tour of mammalian palaeontology, hopefully focusing on some of the more interesting findings. Like any field of science, it has not been standing still.

Large Herbivores

Woolly mammoths (Mammuthus primigenius) are among the best-known of all prehistorical mammals to the general public and, aided by the fact that some lived recently enough to be preserved in permafrost, they are also amongst the best-studied. But there is still more to learn about the details of their lives and habits. A study published this year looked at the detailed isotopic composition of a fossil mammoth that had died about 12,000 BC in Alaska, showing that she was female, and had migrated over 1000 km (600 miles) during her lifetime, having originally been born in the Yukon. The area in which she died was popular with mammoths, but also with humans - she may have died peacefully, but the presence of people where mammoths congregated may not be a coincidence.

Miocene (Pt 31): Terror Mice and the First Howler Monkeys

Phoberomys

As the heat of the Middle Miocene gave way to the more moderate temperatures of the Late Miocene, grasslands grew across much of the Northern Hemisphere. In South America, however, the changes were, perhaps, less significant due, in part to its more equatorial position. Nonetheless, even aside from the general worldwide cooling trend, the South American climate was changing as the Andes continued to rise, affecting weather patterns across the continent. It was also continuing to edge closer to North America, so that, towards the end of the epoch, it became possible for a few animals to make the crossing using the islands of what is now Central America as stepping stones.

Miocene (Pt 28): Miniature Super-horses and the Dawn of the Guinea Pigs

Thoatherium

For most of the Age of Mammals, South America was an island continent, separated from its northern counterpart by a wide sea. Even at the dawn of the Miocene, 23 million years ago, this isolation had already lasted for a long time, and the seas to the north were already a formidable barrier, with just a few islands where Central America is now. In some respects, the variation in climate across the continent was less extreme, especially because the Andes were not so high as they are today and so cast less of a rain shadow. Even so, there was enough variety that many different kinds of animals lived across its great area.

Indeed, the long separation of the continent from the rest of the world meant that it had had plenty of time to develop its own native animals. Whereas, in most of the rest of the world, animals of broad types we would still recognise were already around (early cats, deer, elephants, and so on), most of the larger animals of Early Miocene South America would have been much harder to place, since most of their descendants died out long before the Ice Ages, let alone the present. 

False Deer-Llamas of Bolivia

Theosodon
(the nasal bones are that 'bump' on the forehead
just forward of the eyes)

Australia is an island continent, separated from the rest of the world's landmass for millions of years, allowing it to develop its own unique wildlife, from kangaroos and wombats to bandicoots and emus. The only other island continent we have today is Antarctica, which has no native land mammals at all (or emus, obviously).

In geological terms, however, South America was also an island continent until relatively recently, only joining North America three million years ago, towards the end of the Pliocene epoch. Even today, the strip of land connecting the two is only 35 miles (60 km) or so wide at the narrowest point, both narrower and longer than that connecting Eurasia to Africa. This means that, like Australia, South America had a long history of so-called "splendid isolation", and it evolved a number of unique animals in the process.

Pliocene (Pt 13): The First Carnivorans in South America

Macrauchenia

For most of the Pliocene, South America was an island continent. Over the millions of years of its isolation, it had evolved some strange forms of mammal unknown elsewhere. Some, such as the anteaters, armadillos, and sloths, survived the continent's eventual collision with its northern counterparts; most did not. A time traveller visiting the continent during this epoch would find much that was vaguely familiar, to be sure - there were monkeys, rodents, and bats, for example - but also much that was not. This is especially true when it comes to the larger animals of the day.

Even today, South America has no antelopes, zebras, or native goats; the role of "large hoofed herbivore" is taken jointly by deer and by llamas and their kin. Both are introductions from the north, arriving only after the rise of the Panamanian Isthmus in the very latest part of the Pliocene. Their appearance did not spell immediate doom for the native hoofed animals, some of which struggled on until the arrival of humans at the end of the last Ice Age, but the end result was the same, and they are all long extinct.