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The weirdest (and coolest) tongues in the animal kingdom

The weirdest tongues

By TBH Agencia Exclusiva ColsanitasPublished about a year ago 3 min read

Could it be a succulent,

pink, wiggling worm? No, it was actually this

alligator snapping turtle's blood-engorged tongue appendage

acting as a lure. It's far from the only animal

doing tongue trickery. Fish attracted to prey-like ripples

at the water's surface might find themselves in the jaws

of water snakes who used their tongues

to put those ripples there. Snowy egrets do the same thing. And puff adders lingually mimic insect

movements to snag amphibians. Tongues are getting all kinds of busy

across the animal kingdom— for many different reasons. Some are used as murderous missiles

in ambush attacks. Within the chameleon's mouth, a tongue muscle squeezes a series

of concentric sheaths around a cartilaginous rod,

storing elastic energy. As the muscle further contracts, the tongue tissues slip

over the tip of the rod, releasing their stored energy and

accelerating the tongue forward. With a suction-cup-like-tip

and saliva 400 times thicker— and therefore much stickier— than our own, the chameleon's tongue shoots

out at almost 5 meters per second and ensnares its target. The rosette-nosed pygmy chameleon can

shoot its tongue 2.5 times its body length at speeds equivalent to a car going

from 0 to 96 kilometers per hour in a hundredth of a second. It might take the cake when it comes

to the animal kingdom's fastest tongue— and the one that stretches the longest

relative to body size. Except the cake is obviously a bug. A giant palm salamander's

spring-loaded tongue, meanwhile, packs its punch from two long muscles

that stretch past its front legs. Once contracted, they compress the arms

of the cartilaginous skeleton at the base of the salamander's tongue, which then launches out with the rest

of its tongue tissues. From this elastic energy release, the salamander achieves more instantaneous

power per kilogram of muscle than any vertebrate on record,

affording it whip-quick captures. Certain amphibians have their tongues

routed to the front of their mouths. With the drop of its lower jaw, the northern leopard frog's

tongue flips out. And because frog tongues are super soft—

up to 10 times softer than our own— they stretch to cover a wide surface area. They're also covered in glands

that secrete sticky saliva to maximize those areas of contact. Then, because the leopard frog's tongue

is positioned so far forward, it can retract its eyes to help push

the prey down its throat. Blue-tongued skinks, meanwhile, seem to display their extraordinary

tongues defensively, dazing predators and robbing

their aerial attacks of momentum. For other animals,

it's all about lingual length. When red-bellied woodpeckers'

extended, barbed tongues aren't probing for

protein-rich comestibles, they're wrapped around their skulls. And giant anteaters evoke the question, "why have teeth or a mouth you can

open any considerable amount when you could have

a 60-centimeter-long tongue clad in backward-facing spines

and adhesive saliva that catches up to 30,000 termites

and ants a day?" To which evolution answered,

"you actually have a really good point." Tube-lipped nectar bats' food

sources are less animated. But still, to reach bellflower nectar, their tongues are 50% longer

than their bodies— the longest relative to body size

among mammals. Tongue textures also vary widely. Tiny structures called papillae

cover tongues, facilitating touch and taste sensitivity

and more. Rainbow lorikeet papillae bloom into

feathery projections that sop up nectar. And penguins press their backward-facing,

centimeter-long, spiny tongue and palate papillae together

to secure their slippery catch and direct it into their gullet. Meanwhile, sandpapery feline papillae are

thought to retain saliva during self-grooming, helping cats cool, detangle,

and distribute scents. And, of course, some reptilian tongues

reach a fork in their roads. Snakes spread their tongue tips

apart near the ground and whip them up and down in the air, sending odor molecules back into their

vomeronasal organs. Like having two ears, each tongue tip

delivers a slightly different odor sampling from the environment, helping establish a more

comprehensive stereo scent map. This way, snakes can determine

where an odor cue is strongest and stay on the trails of prey and mates. And that is just a taste of the

fascinating things you'll find when the animal kingdom opens wide

and sticks its tongue out at you.

Science

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