56206	----	[Illustration: Cover art] [Frontispiece: (starfish)] My Book of Ten Fishes _by_ Rosalie G. Mendel Author of Spark Series, "My Book of Ten Fishes," etc. ILLUSTRATED BY HAZEL FRAZEE Whitman Publishing Co. Racine, Wisconsin. Copyright 1916 WHITMAN PUBLISHING COMPANY BY THE STAR FISH Do you know why I am called a "Star Fish?" It is because I am shaped like a star. I am the star of the sea. My five large, thick arms point in different directions. On the end of each one is a red spot. Those are my eyes. My body is covered with little spine-like prickles. On the under side of my body, near the center, is my mouth. My favorite foods are oysters and clams. When I want my dinner I bend my arms, or rays, to form a cup. I catch food with the hundreds of little suckers that are on the under side of my body. BY THE SALMON Did you ever go fishing? Did you ever catch a Salmon? I doubt it. It takes a mighty sharp fisherman to catch me. I am called "the king of the fresh water fish." I am the most valuable and delicate of all fish. My flavor is excellent and I have few troublesome bones. My home is in the sea. But in the autumn of the year I leave it and travel to the river where I was born. There I deposit eggs in the shallow creeks. The eggs remain there until the next spring. Then they are hatched into baby salmons. [Illustration: (salmon)] These children remain for two years in the river. Then, in the third spring, they seek the cool waters of the sea. Often, on my journey from the sea to my birthplace, I come to roaring waterfalls. To reach the top of these is hard and dangerous. But I am never afraid. I curl my body so that my tail almost reaches my mouth. Then I give an upward spring. Sometimes I fail, but if I do I try again. Did you ever see a picture of a "salmon leap?" BY THE LOBSTER You have eaten lobsters, haven't you? If not, I am sorry for you, because I am considered a very fine-tasting sea food. When a lobster is brought to the dinner table it is a bright red. But when it swims in the ocean, before it is boiled, its shell is very dark, almost black. Mother Nature furnished me with a hard shell made of lime. This protects my soft body from my enemies. This shell fits me as tightly as your Sunday kid glove fits you. When my body grows too large for it, I get ready for a new one. I hide myself from everyone. I stop eating and so get thinner. My body shrinks away from my shell. It splits and comes off. Then a new one at once begins to cover me. At first it is very soft, but it soon gets as hard as my other one. The old shell comes off in one piece. If you saw it lying on the sand you would think it a live lobster. Snap! Snap! See my two pinchers! Look out or I might bite you! Snap! Snap! [Illustration: (lobster)] BY THE SHARK I am a shark! I am called "the tiger of the ocean," because I am so large, strong and terrible. I eat human flesh. [Illustration: (shark)] I guess I am not very good to look at. They say my mouth has a horrible, mean expression. I am about thirty feet long! I have six rows of strong, sharp-pointed teeth--sharper than any knife you ever had. I can raise or lower these as I wish. Most fish, when they drop their eggs, forget all about them. But I love and take care of my young ones. BY THE CRAB People say I am a quarrelsome creature. That is why cross persons are called "crabby." But I won't ever quarrel with you, little one. I am a first cousin of the lobster. I have a soft body protected with a hard shell. When I grow too big I throw it off and then I get a new one, just like Mr. Lobster does. I have five pairs of legs. Poor child, you have only one pair. I walk sideways. In walking I use the legs on one side of my body to push with and those on the other side to pull with. My short tail I carry folded under my body. See my two strong pairs of nippers! With these pinchers I defend myself from my enemies. I wouldn't hurt you, though. Oysters and other small sea animals often attach themselves to my shell and stay there a long time. Men catch us crabs in wicker pots that are sunk deep in the water. In each is placed some bait. Are you a "crabby" little person? I hope not. [Illustration: (crab)] BY THE WHALE "That she blows! Thar she blows!" That is what the sailors cry when they see me spout air and water out of the holes in the top part of my head. Sometimes I spout water 60 or 70 feet high. I am a Right or Greenland whale. I live in the cold north seas. Underneath my skin are layers of fat called "blubber," that keep my body warm. From this blubber men take large quantities of oil. It is very valuable. Some whales give as much as 300 barrels of oil. Just think of that! When I want my dinner I just open my mouth and collect thousands of small fish. I have no real teeth, but in my upper jaw are fringed plates known as "whale-bones." Maybe your mamma has sent you to the store to buy whale-bone for her new dress. My cousin, the sperm whale, lives in the warm part of the ocean. Your nice white candles are made from spermaceti. It is taken from the head of the sperm whale. He also gives you "ambergris," out of which fine perfume is made. The dolphin and the porpoise are smaller whale-like animals. They are playful and affectionate. [Illustration: (whale)] BY THE OYSTER Do you like oysters? I hope so. This is the oyster season. In the summer months, when I am busy laying eggs I am not good to eat. We lay about two million eggs each season. My children are full grown when they are three years old. You are little more than a baby at that age. [Illustration: (oyster)] I am called "fashionable" because I am not cheap like herring. I am considered quite a dainty. I have no head. I have no feet. I have no teeth. But I have a mouth. My house is a hard shell made of two valves joined together by a hinge. Of course you know that pearls come from oysters. Often men risk their lives in diving to the bottom of the ocean to get these precious gems. Sharks are great enemies of the pearl divers. The mother of pearl is the lining of the pearl oyster shell. Have any of you little chaps knives with handles made of mother of pearl? Oh! I am an exciting fish, I am! Good night. Don't dream about me! BY THE SARDINE We are called sardines because we are caught on the coast of a country called Sardinia. [Illustration: (sardines)] We are considered beautiful, graceful little swimmers. Most of us are about three or four inches long. Our color is bright green above and silvery white below. We live in the deep sea and only come to the surface to lay our eggs. Along the coasts where we are caught there are many sardine factories. There they can us. Ask your mother to buy a box of sardines for supper tonight. Then tell her all you know about us. 
10617	----	Proofreading Team WITHIN THE DEEP By R. CADWALLADER SMITH WITH EIGHT COLOURED PLATES AND MANY BLACK-AND-WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS _CASSELL'S "EYES AND NO EYES" SERIES_ _BOOK VIII_ CONTENTS LESSON I. FISH FOR BREAKFAST II. THE STORY OF THE FLAT FISH III. SEALS IV. SOME STRANGE NURSERIES V. THE OGRE OF THE DEEP VI. THE WHALE VII. TIGERS OF THE SEA VIII. THE DANGERS OF THE DEEP IX. THE FISH OF OUR ROCK-POOLS X. SOME CURIOUS FISHES XI. THE GARDEN OF THE SEA LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS COLOURED PLATES THE HERRING FLEET AT WORK IN THE NORTH SEA THE SEA-ELEPHANT CORALS OF MANY KINDS WHALING! A CORAL REEF FISHES (No. 1) FISHES (No. 2) A GARDEN IN THE SEA CASSELL'S "EYES AND NO EYES" Eighth Book WITHIN THE DEEP LESSON I FISH FOR BREAKFAST Of all the fish in the wide ocean world, the Herring deserves to be called the king. He gives work to thousands of people, and food to millions. Many towns exist because of him; if he failed to visit our seas, these big towns would shrink to tiny villages. There are several interesting kinds of Herring, but we will first look at the one we know so well, which is such good food, either fresh or as dried "kipper" or "bloater." The Herring loves to swim in a _shoal_. From the time he leaves the egg, during his babyhood, and all through his life, he explores the sea with thousands of other Herrings crowded round him. His name is from a foreign word--_heer_ or _herr_, an _army_. His enemies--ourselves among them--find this habit of his a good one. It makes him such easy prey. Here is a dense shoal of fish, moving slowly along near the surface. To catch some is quite easy. The Dolphin, or Shark, or other large fish-hunter, merely has to rush into their ranks with wide-open mouth. Hordes of Dog-fish feast on the edges of the shoal. And Gannets, Cormorants, Gulls and other sea-birds can take their fill with ease. The Herring shoal is a banquet at which the fish-eating sea creatures feed heartily, and man comes along, to spread his nets in the path of the shoal. But what matter a few million Herrings when the sea is packed with billions more! In the North Sea, one shoal was seen which was over four miles long and two miles wide. In such a mass there would be, at the very least, twenty thousand million Herring; and this shoal was but one out of many thousand shoals. One might as well try to count the grains of sand on the shore as the Herrings in the wide ocean. These huge shoals do not stay long in one part of the sea. They make journeys of many miles, each shoal seeming to keep to itself. Like every other creature, the Herring goes where his food is. What food does he find? He swallows the small life of the sea, tiny transparent things like baby shrimps, prawns, crabs, and so on, which swarm even in the cold water which the Herring loves. They are good juicy food, these little mites, and very plentiful; so no wonder the Herring becomes plump. He eats greedily of this good food. For instance, a young Herring, picked up on the beach at Yarmouth, was found to contain no less than one hundred and forty-three small shrimps. Not a bad dinner for a fish the length of this page! The ocean teems with small creatures; even the huge Greenland Whale feeds on them, and the Herring seems to live on little else. Well, the shoals of Herring begin to move from their feeding place in the deeps, and come nearer the coast. As they get to shallower water they are crowded together near the surface. Where are they going, and why? Perhaps you can guess--they seek warmer, shallower water, in which to lay their eggs. Now is the time for the fisherman! If the Herring kept to the deep they would be quite safe--and we should have no nice plump Herrings on our breakfast tables! Yes, now is the time to spread out miles of nets in the path of this living mass of silvery fish. They are in fine condition, well fed, and ready to lay their eggs. They are moving slowly but surely towards the right place where those eggs should be laid. What guides them? Why do they go _this_ way and not _that_ in the vast ocean? We do not really know what guides them; so we say that they obey a wonderful, unfailing guide--"instinct." Of course you have seen and tasted the "hard" roe of a Herring; but I do not suppose you have ever troubled to count all those little round eggs. Each roe contains some thirty thousand of them! What a huge number of young ones for one Herring! Still, this is not a large family, as fish families go. The Cod lays about nine million eggs! At last the Herrings reach the breeding grounds that they sought, and the eggs are laid. The eggs of most sea-fish just drift on the surface of the ocean, at the mercy of their enemies, and washing here and there as the current sends them. The Herring's eggs sink to the bottom and, being rather sticky, adhere wherever they fall. There they lie in masses, on the bed of the sea, and then guests of all kinds hasten to enjoy such a rare feast of eggs, laid ready for them. One of the first guests is the Haddock. He comes in his thousands, greedy for his part of the good food; but, knowing this, the fishermen also hasten to the spot, and the Haddock pays dearly for his love of Herring eggs. Only a few out of each thousand eggs will escape their enemies, and the baby Herrings, which hatch in about a fortnight, run many dangers; thus, in the end, the huge family of Mrs. Herring is reduced to a small one. Even so, there are countless numbers of the tiny fish. They soon grow shining scales, like those of their parents, and move towards the coast. It is a pretty sight, these little silvery Herrings playing in the shallow water. Millions of them dart about and flash in the sunshine, during the summer months, round our coasts. Sea-birds and other enemies hover round, to feast on the tiny fish. Great numbers of these baby Herrings are caught and sold as "Whitebait." The older Herrings, having laid their eggs, leave the shallows, and make their way into deep water. They are no longer nice to eat, and the Herring harvest is over until the following season. In our talk on flat-fish we shall notice how they are caught, near the bed of the sea, in the _trawl-net_. Now this net is of no use for the capture of Herrings. They swim in the open water, near the surface, and so another kind of trap, the _drift-net_, is used. Hundreds of vessels sail from our fishing ports when King Herring is about. Each vessel carries a number of drift-nets. These nets are to be let down like a hanging wall, in the path of the shoal, at night. Corks or bladders are fastened to the upper edge of the nets. Of course they are all mended and made ready before the vessels reach the fishing grounds. It is not easy to know where to shoot the nets; all the skill and knowledge of the fisherman are needed to locate the shoals, and, without this knowledge, he would come home with an empty vessel. Even as it is, he sometimes catches no more fish than would fill his hat. A sharp look-out is kept. An oily gleam in the sea tells the knowing fisherman that the shoal is there; or he may see a Gull swoop down and carry off a Herring. Then the nets are put out in the path of the shoal. A big fleet of fishing vessels may let down a thousand miles of nets! The Herrings, not seeing the fine wall of net, swim into it. Now the openings in the net--the meshes--are one inch across, just wide enough for the Herring to poke his head through. Once through, he is caught. His gill-covers prevent him from drawing back again. Thousands of other Herrings are held tight, all around him, and the rest of the shoal scatters for the time being. When the nets are hauled in, the fisherman beholds a mighty catch, a sight to repay him for all his trouble. On being taken from its watery home each Herring is dead almost at once--"as dead as a Herring." Then comes the race to the market. Once in port, the vessels are rapidly emptied. Hundreds of thousands of shining, silvery bodies are piled on the quays--a sight worth seeing! An army of packers gets to work; and the fresh fish are soon on the rail, speeding to the great fish markets, on the way to your breakfast table. The story of the Herring fishery is one of deep interest, and of great importance. Millions of Herrings are caught every year, forming a cheap and good food. Yet there are uncountable numbers left; and there is not the least danger that our nets can ever empty the sea of this wonderful little fish. The Herring has several smaller relatives, all of them being excellent food for us. The Pilchard is one of them; the Sardine is merely a young Pilchard. Countless myriads of Pilchards visit the Cornish coast; strangely enough, they frequent only this corner of our seas. Another cousin of the Herring, the Sprat, is also a fine food, and so cheap that poor people can enjoy it. Baby Herrings and baby Sprats are caught in great quantity, and sold under the name of "Whitebait." It was thought, at one time, that the Whitebait was another kind of fish; but Whitebait are really the Herring and Sprat in their baby state. EXERCISES 1. Name several enemies of the Herring. 2. Describe the eggs of the Herring, and where they are laid. 3. What is a "drift-net," and how is it used? 4. What is a Sardine? What is a "Whitebait?" LESSON II THE STORY OF THE FLAT FISH You see fish of many shapes and sizes in the fishmonger's shop; they can be divided into two kinds--round fish and flat fish. Cod, Herring, Mackerel and Salmon are round fish. The flat fish are Plaice, Turbot, Brill, Halibut, Sole, Dab and Flounder. Most people know the taste, as well as the look, of a Plaice; but few know much about its life in the ocean. Indeed, there are secrets in the life of this fish, and many other fish too, which still puzzle us. Put a Salmon and a Plaice side by side, and it is plain that they live in very different ways. One is made to dart like an arrow, the other to lie flat. One is the shape of a torpedo, the other is flat like a raft. The shape and colour of the Plaice tell their own story of a life on the sandy, pebbly bed of the sea. And look at the eyes! Both are on the upper side of the head! What could be better for a fish that lies flat on the ocean floor? The Plaice is the best known of these flat fish, so we will try to find how its life is spent in the deep sea. Have you ever watched those little sailing-vessels which go a-shrimping? They carry a large net--a shrimp-trawl, it is called--which is drawn over the sandy home of the Shrimp. When the trawl is hauled up it may contain not only Shrimps, but the other dwellers in sandy places. Among these, sad to say, is often a mass of baby Plaice and other flat fish. Tiny little fellows they are, some hardly as large as a postage stamp. They are thrown aside, being of no use to the fisherman. Now these babies are quite flat, darkish on the upper side, white on the other side, like the Plaice you see in the shop. They are not such new babies after all. Though such wee mites, it is more than six weeks since they left the egg; and, in that time, they have passed through wonderful changes, as you will see. Plaice lay a great many eggs, which float about in the sea. Most are gobbled up by those sea-creatures--and they are many--who love fish-eggs for dinner. From each remaining egg a baby Plaice escapes. At first it floats upside down at the surface of the sea, and eats nothing at all. Then it rights itself, and begins to swallow the tiny creatures which swarm in sea-water. Strange to tell, this baby Plaice is not a bit like its mother. It is not a flat fish now, but a "round" fish. It has one eye on each side of its head, and you would expect it to grow up like any other round fish. For about a month this small, transparent youngster hardly alters. Then it grows deeper in the body, and begins to swim near the bottom of the sea. At last it lies on one side, and its life as a "round" fish is over. A fish lying thus on its side would have one eye buried in the sand, and quite useless, would it not? But our young Plaice is changing its appearance very quickly. Its head is growing rather "lopsided." The eye next the sand is, little by little, brought round to the upper side, until it looks up instead of down. Its mouth gets a queer one-sided look, owing to the twisting of the bones in the head. Many people think that the dark upper part of a flat fish is the back, and the white under part is the stomach. We have seen, however, that this is not so, for _flat fish lie on one side_. For the rest of its life the Plaice will remain flat, with two eyes looking up, and a twisted head. But its colour alters. The side on which it lies is white; the upper side becomes brown and speckled, dotted over with red marks. This is a good disguise. Its enemies cannot distinguish the Plaice from the pebbles and sand around it. They might swim over it, and yet not see the thin, flat, brownish body pressed down on the bed of the sea. Also, these flat fish have a wonderful way of changing colour. Put them on light sand, and they become lightish. Put them on dark sand and pebbles, and they soon match it by becoming brown and mottled. This is a most useful dodge where so many enemies abound, all swifter in the water than the slow-swimming flat fish. If you look for flat fish in an aquarium, you will not easily see them. Now and again one will swim up, with a wavy motion of its body. On settling again, it shuffles and flaps about, works itself into the sand, hiding its edges well under, and then, hey presto! it is gone! If the flat fish are so hard to find in a tank, you may be sure it would be impossible to find them on the sea bed. They are poor swimmers, but perfect hiders. As far as we can tell, they feed on other living creatures. The ocean floor is a huge dining table for them, where they find very mixed dinners. They eat small fish, sand-worms, shell-fish, Shrimps and young Crabs. The Plaice has strong, blunt teeth in its throat, and is well able to grind up the shells of Cockles and other molluscs, swallowing the juicy contents. Now we have seen that the Plaice is first a floating egg, and then a tiny transparent "round" fish. It sinks to the sea bed, lies on one side, and becomes a flat fish like its parents. These little baby flat fish, not much larger than your thumb-nail, crowd in the shallow, sandy parts of the sea near the coast. There they often end their lives in the shrimp-trawl, as we have already noticed. After leaving this "infants' school" the Plaice, and other small flat fish, go to deeper water. There they feed and grow fat. Our fishermen know where to find them. Indeed, these special fishing grounds are so well known that flat fish are scarcer than they used to be. Some kinds are much too dear ever to be seen on the poor man's table. There is a special net for catching flat fish, called a _trawl_. This is a large net, dragged over the bed of the sea by ropes, or steel wire, attached to the sailing vessel or steam trawler. The net is kept open under water by means of beams or boards. When the flat fish are disturbed, they rise a foot or two from the sea floor, and are then swept into the gaping mouth of the deadly trawl. Once in, there is no escape. There they remain, pressed together, until the net is hauled up and emptied. EXERCISES 1. Give the names of five kinds of flat fish. 2. How does the Plaice escape its enemies in the sea? 3. What is the food of the Plaice? 4. How are flat fish usually caught for the market? LESSON III SEALS There are many different kinds of Seal; the family is a large one, but all have one thing in common--the fish-like body, with toes joined together by a web. Anyone who has seen the diving power of a Seal, and its wonderful way in the water, will agree that the "flippers" of the Seal are as useful as the fins of the fish. In fact, the flipper beats the fin, for the Seal earns his dinner by chasing and catching fish. He slips through the water with perfect ease, and seizes the darting fish in their own home. The Seal is nearly always hungry, but so wonderfully quick that his hunting is made easy for him. It is quite another matter on land, where his best pace is a waddle and a shuffle; but his life is in the wide sea, where he can feed and sleep as easily as other mammals can on land. Seals are easily tamed, and soon become fond of their owners. Some fishermen once caught a baby Seal, which they gave to a boy, knowing his love of animals. The strange baby soon made itself at home, and loved to lie in the warmth of the kitchen fire. It knew the voice of its young master, and would follow him like a dog. The older it grew, the more milk and fish it needed each day. At last, this food was not to be easily obtained, and so the boy had to get rid of his pet. He rowed out to sea, taking the Seal, and let it free in the ocean to fend for itself; but the Seal would not leave him; it swam swiftly round the boat, calling pitifully. Needless to say, it was taken back again, and well cared for. [Illustration: THE SEA-ELEPHANT] Seals have even been trained to catch fish for their owners. Being docile by nature, and having larger brains than most animals, they can be taught. Perhaps you have seen Sea-lions performing surprising tricks, showing clearly how intelligent these fish-like creatures really are. The Sea-lions at the London "Zoo" are not specially trained. But they are clever enough to teach themselves, especially when rewarded by a few extra fish. They know well the voice of their keeper, and clap with their flippers to let him know that feeding--time is near; and in many other amusing ways they prove their intelligence. [Illustration: SEA-LION] You have noticed, perhaps, that these Sea-lions can shuffle along on their hind flippers, which are turned forward under the body. The real Seals, however, cannot do this. Their hind limbs, so wonderful in the water, are merely dragged behind the body on land. "Sealskin" should be called "Sea-lion-skin," to be exact; for it is the Sea-lions, not the true Seals, which men kill and rob of their lovely warm coats. The giant of the Seal family is the Sea-elephant; a big lumbering fellow, with a most peculiar nose. Of course this gives him his name, though it is not much like the trunk of the real elephant. It is just the baggy skin of his nose, a foot long, which hangs down past his mouth. When the Sea-elephant is angry or excited, this loose nose of his becomes filled with air, and bulges out. Our coloured picture shows you Mr. Sea-elephant, full grown; his wife and children have ordinary seal noses. Perhaps we should say wives, not wife, for he has many. [Illustration: A COMMON SEAL] The Sea-elephants go to wild, lonely islands, and there make their nurseries. Year after year tens of thousands of the big Seals gather, to fight and to rear their young. The clumsy great father Sea-elephants fight terrible battles; and at this time always seem to be in a very bad temper, tearing each other with their tusk-like teeth. Their roaring can be heard far out at sea; but the lady Seals take no part in these combats. We have no room in this lesson to look at all the other kinds of Seals, Sea-lions, Sea-bears and Walrus. As we have already noticed, the sealskin sold in shops is really the skin of a Sea-lion. Sometimes these are called _Eared Seals_, for they possess little ears, while the real Seals have only small holes in the side of the head for ears. Again, there are some Eared Seals whose fur is of no use to us, for it lacks the deep under-fur of the fur Seals. Nature gave this coat to the Seal to protect him from the cold, but it has caused his destruction! For these animals were killed by the hundred thousand. Worse than this, they were killed in the most cruel manner. Laws have now been made to help protect the poor fur Seal from its merciless hunters. It lives in cold seas where its deep rich coat is a splendid protection. No finer fur is there for keeping out cold and wet; and the skilful furrier can make it into soft garments of great value. The habits of these Seals are strange indeed. For nine or ten months of the year they wander freely over the open seas. They dive for their food, and sleep calmly amidst the restless heaving of the ocean. This is the happy life of the Seal, though enemies--Sharks, Killer Whales or Grampuses--sometimes snap him up as he sleeps. Then, in the springtime, there comes a change. The Seals leave the open sea and take to the land. They go to their special breeding-places, or "rookeries," as they are called. The big "old man" Seals arrive first, and haul themselves on shore. Each chooses a spot for himself among the rocks. He then settles down to defend it; for more and more "old man" Seals come, all eager to own the best places. The roaring and fighting go on day and night. The gentle Seal is now a savage beast, covered with wounds. Then the soft-eyed female Seals come ashore. Now the thing is, for each big male Seal to claim as many lady Seals as he can. More fighting, roaring and tearing occur now, in which the lady Seals are banged about like footballs. The strongest "old man" drags the female Seal away in his teeth, and plumps her down in his special part of the beach. Along comes another big Seal to take her away, and the fight begins again. Meanwhile, the younger Seals keep out of the way. Strange to say, the fighting Seals take no food at all, though they are on the beach for several weeks. A few stones is all they eat, though at other times they devour numbers of fish at every meal. EXERCISES 1. How could you tell the Sea-lion from the real Seal? 2. Where are the Seal "rookeries"? What happens there in the springtime? 3. Why is the Sea-elephant so named? LESSON IV SOME STRANGE NURSERIES As a rule, nests or nurseries are unknown in the world of fishes. They lay their eggs and leave them; and the young ones have to fight their own battles, in a sea full of fierce and hungry enemies. Indeed, it often happens that a parent fish is eager to make a meal of its own children! The Codfish lays about nine million eggs! You would hardly expect the female Codfish to make a nursery for such a family! She would be much worse off than the "old woman who lived in a shoe." As a matter of fact, the eggs are laid in the open sea; and the Cod shows no interest in them, but leaves them to become food for many a roving enemy. Those cousins of the Shark,--the Skate and the Dog-fish,--are more careful of their eggs. Have you ever found their empty eggs on the sea shore? Children call them "mermaids' purses." But they are more like little horny pillow-cases than purses. When first laid, the Dog-fish's egg has a very long string or _tendril_ at each corner. As the fish lays the egg, she winds these tendrils round and round a sea-plant; thus the egg is fixed firmly until the young one is ready to escape from within (_see_ p. 49). The Skate's egg is much the same, only there is no tendril, but a curved hook at each corner. These hooks, of course, serve as anchors to hold the egg: no doubt they catch in weeds and stones. One fish, you see, ties her eggs with strings, the other uses anchors. These large "purse eggs" are like cradles, and the baby Skates do not slip out of them until they are quite ready to look after themselves in the ocean. There are fish in the sea which take great pains to save their eggs and babies from harm; they will even defend them at the risk of their own lives. Of course these careful parents do not have huge families, like the Cod. No; the fish that care for their young have small families, but the babies have a much better chance of living than the baby Cod. It is one of Nature's wise laws. Our common Stickleback--"Tiddler," or "Red-throat," as boys call him--builds a nest in ponds. He has a seaside cousin, the fifteen-spined Stickleback, who is also a nest-builder. This little fish is fairly common round our coasts, living in weedy pools by the shore, where it devours any small creature unlucky enough to come near. It is about six inches long, this sea Stickleback, with a long snout, and its body is very thin near the tail. To build his nest, this little fish chooses a quiet corner, then gathers pieces of green and purple seaweed. He takes the pieces in his mouth, pushing them about until the shape is to his liking. Having got his nursery to the right size and shape, the little builder next fastens it together. How can he do this? What mortar can he find in the sea? It is quite simple. He uses threads, which come from his own body. He swims round the nest, again and again; and, each time, a thread is spun, binding the clump of weed into a safe, tight nest for the eggs. When the task is done there is a weed-nursery about the size of your fist. Now all is ready for the eggs to be laid by the female Stickleback. You would expect them to be kept in a hole amid the nest, would you not? Instead of that, they are tucked a few here, a few there, in the weed. Then the father Stickleback mounts guard. Woe betide any small fish looking for a dinner of Stickleback eggs! The gallant little sentry will rush at him, with spines as stiff as fixed bayonets, ready to do battle to the death. When the young are hatched out he still keeps guard. They are not allowed out of the nursery for some time. The watchful parent forces them back if they try to wander out into the perils of the shore-pool. [Illustration: _Photo: A.F. Dauncey_. SKATE'S EGG CASE] Let us look at another nest-builder--the Sand Goby, or Spotted Goby, He is common enough in the pools at low tide, but not easy to find. You can look at him, yet not see him! For he takes the same colour as the rocks and sands of his home. Amid the glinting lights and shadows of his rock-pool, with a background of sand, rock, and weed, this little fish is nearly invisible. Of course it is a dodge, and a useful one, to escape the eye of the enemy! Perhaps you will not think the Spotted Goby so clever at nest-building as the Stickleback. He likes to use a "ready-made" house, whereas the Stickleback finds his own "bricks and mortar." In the pools of the shore there is no lack of houses to let, the empty homes of shell-fish are there in plenty. So the little Goby, when nesting time comes, hunts round for the empty shell of a Cockle lying with its hollow side to the sand. This shell is to be used as the roof for the nursery. The Goby's next task is to make a hole beneath the shell. He sets to work and, by scooping out the sand, makes a hole about as large as a marble. To keep the sand from tumbling in, he smears the hole with slime, which soon binds hard like mortar. Now the nursery is nearly ready; but a passage-way is made, passing under the edge of the shell, and then, to make things quite safe, the whole roof is covered with sand: it then looks more like a bump in the sand than a fish-nursery. The female Goby enters the nest, and leaves her eggs in it; and then the little father fish is left in charge. He rests on the sand, near the entrance. When the little ones appear, he seems to think he has done his duty. So away, he swims, not staying, like the father Stickleback, to guard the youngsters. Again we see that the father, and not the mother, is the builder and nurse. [Illustration: CORALS OF MANY KINDS.] That very strange creature, the Pipe-fish, has the most peculiar nursery of all. He uses no building material! No made-up nest of weed or sand for him! No, he prefers to carry his eggs in his pocket. To be more exact, there is a small pouch under his body, and there the eggs are kept until they hatch. Meanwhile, the Pipe-fish goes about his affairs in the pool as if nothing particular had happened. You will see more about this funny little fish when we come to our lesson on "The Fish of our Rock-pools." EXERCISES 1. What are the eggs of the Skate and the Dog-fish like? 2. How does the Sea-stickleback build his nest? 3. Where would you find the Sand Goby, the Pipe-fish, and the Sea-stickleback? 4. How does the Sand Goby build its nest? LESSON V THE OGRE OF THE DEEP The ogre of the fairy-tale is bad enough, but, for evil looks, the Octopus is worse still. With his tough, brownish skin, knobbed like the toad's back, his large staring eyes, his parrot's beak, and ugly bag of a body, the Octopus is a horrid-looking creature. Add to this eight long arms twisting and writhing like snakes, and you have an idea of the most hideous inhabitant of the deep. Then, like the ogre, the Octopus lives in a cave, and goes forth at night to claim his victims. He tears them to pieces, and returns to his dark cavern when daylight comes. Before seeing how this ugly monster lives, eats, breathes and fights, we must know something of the way he is made. In the first place, it may surprise you to know that the Octopus's body is made on the same plan as that of the snail. The ogre of the ocean and the Garden Snail are second cousins! Their family name--_mollusc_--means _soft-bodied._ But there are such numbers of molluscs that we split them up into different orders, just as a big school is split into classes. The Octopus belongs to an order of molluscs with a long name, which only means _head-footed._ Why is he called head-footed? The snail, as you know, has one broad foot under its body. The foot of the Octopus is divided into eight strips. These long strips are set round his head, hence the name head-footed. Because there are eight of these long feet he is named _octo-pus_ or eight-feet. The feet--or arms, or tentacles, as they are called--are joined at their base by a skin. It makes a sort of webbing. In the centre of this is a horny beak, usually of a brownish colour. It is just like a parrot's beak, only of thinner and lighter stuff. There are two parts to it, the top one curving down over the lower one. Behind this beaked mouth is a hard, rasping tongue. On each side of the head is a big, staring eye; and behind the ugly head is the ugly body, like a bag. The Octopus breathes by means of gills. Water enters through a big hole under the head, passes over the gills, and out again through a _funnel_, or _siphon_. Now the Octopus can make good use of this siphon. Sometimes he is attacked, and wishes to "make himself scarce." So he sends the water rapidly through the siphon; the force is enough to jerk him quickly backwards, his "arms" trailing behind. The Octopus and his relations have another dodge as well. They possess a bag of inky fluid. By mixing this ink with the spurt of water from the funnel, the Octopus leaves a thick cloud behind him. The enemy is lost in this dark cloud, while the Octopus darts safely away. [Illustration: THE OCTOPUS--A MONSTER OF THE DEEP] Having no armour to protect him, and no shelly home like that of the snail, the Octopus is an easy prey to large fish, Seals and Whales. So this trick of shooting backwards, hidden in a cloud of ink, must be of great use. Soldiers and sailors use clouds of smoke to baffle their enemy in battle. The Octopus uses clouds of ink. Sharks, Conger Eels, and Whales are able to fight the Octopus and eat his soft body; but small fish and Crabs keep away from the ogre if they can. This is not easy, for he hides away under rocks, watching with his great eyes for passing prey. If anything comes near enough, out flicks a long, tapering, snaky arm, and holds the victim tight. Down the inside of each arm are nearly three hundred round suckers. Each one acts like those leather suckers with which boys sometimes play. Once fixed, it is nearly impossible to unloose them, without chopping or tearing the arm to pieces. First one and then another sucker takes hold, and the wretched victim is drawn up to the ogre's beak, with no chance of escape. When one sees the grasping power of even a small Octopus, it is easy to believe that a large one would be a dangerous enemy. The strongest swimmer would stand no chance: those clinging arms could hold two or three men under water. [Illustration: WHALING.] Luckily, the Octopus has no wish to attack people. It is not fierce. But to the Crabs it must seem an awful ogre. I once watched an Octopus on the lookout for food. It had its lair between two rocks, its twining arms showing outside, its eyes and body in the shadow. Along came a Crab, scuttling near the rocks. He spied the ogre, at once stopping and raising his claws as Crabs do, like a boxer ready to fight. The Crab having strong pincers, and a good suit of armour, I expected to see him fight for life. But no! Like poor Bunny chased by the dreaded Stoat, the Crab gave in as soon as the ogre flicked him with an arm. The suckers gripped him fast and, still holding up his claws, he was drawn into the den of his dreadful enemy. Although armed with a beak, the Octopus seems not to use it against the Crab. He prefers to pull the poor Crab to pieces with his strong arms, and then to pick up the crab-meat with the hooked beak. When full-fed, he retires to his den; he sometimes pulls shells and stones over the entrance, and rests within until hungry. In this strange order of molluscs there are dwarfs and giants. One kind is never more than two inches long, others are vast monsters. The Octopus is big enough and ugly enough to make one shudder to see him, but the real ogre of the deep is the Giant Cuttle-fish, beside which the Octopus is a tiny mite. These Giant Cuttles have ten arms, two of them being very long. The Octopus's body is round, like that of a fat spider, while the Cuttle has a long body. The Cuttle has many sharp claws on its arms, besides numbers of big, strong suckers. It holds and tears its prey at the same time. Its staring eyes are like big black lanterns on each side of the head. The head twists this way and that, so that nothing escapes the glare of those horrible eyes. Lurking in the dark depths of the sea, these Giant Cuttles wait for large fish, Crabs, or even their own relations, to come near. Like hideous, gigantic Spiders, they are the terror of the ocean caverns. They are so large that they have few enemies to fear. Indeed, it is surprising that any animal dares to attack such a monster, but that other giant, the Sperm Whale, dives deep to the home of the Cuttles, purposely to attack and eat them. The Sperm Whale _must_ attack these big creatures in order to get enough food. He has such a huge, barn-like body to fill, that only these big Cuttles will satisfy him. Whale-hunters sometimes catch a glimpse of terrific combats between these giants of the deep. The Sperm wins the battle, for he is nearly always found to contain great pieces of the ogre's arms. Although the Octopus and the Cuttle are related to the Snail and Whelk, they have no shell. Their bodies are naked. Neither do they grow a backbone, or skeleton; but, inside the body, the Cuttle has a plate of chalk, which you may find on the shore. Some kinds have a long strip of transparent substance, like a large feather. Fishermen use the smaller kinds of Cuttle as bait. You will find it quite easy to cut out the "beaks" and "bone" for yourself, or the fishermen will not mind saving them for you. EXERCISES 1. What is the meaning of the words "mollusc" and "octopus"? 2. How does the Octopus capture its prey? 3. How does the Octopus escape its enemies? 4. What creatures prey on the Cuttle and Octopus? LESSON VI THE WHALE Now and again Whales are washed up on our coasts, and then we can see how huge is this strange monster of the deep. It is by far the largest of all living animals. Once on the land it is quite helpless; it cannot regain its home in the waters, and slowly dies. It is shaped like a fish, and its home is in the sea, so no wonder it has often been called a fish. If by chance the Whale is held under water, it drowns. It has no gills, like those of the fish, to take air from the water; it is a mammal, a creature that must breathe the free air just as other mammals. Nature is full of surprises. And here she surprises us with a mammal most marvellously fitted to live a fish-like life. The Whale dives to great depths in search of food, and stays under water for a long time. But it is forced to rise again, and breathe at the surface. To do this, it need not put its head and mouth out of water, for its nostril is at the top of the head. As the Whale forces used-up air from its nostril--or "blow-hole," as it is called--it mixes with water; this causes a jet or spout of water to rise some distance into the air. The blow-hole is closed by a stopper or valve, opening to let the air in or out, but closing to shut out the water. Some of the Whale family are enormous, and some are small. A large Sperm Whale may grow to be ninety feet long, and its weight would be nearly two hundred tons! This huge creature would look like a deep barge in the water. These Sperm Whales love to swim in herds, or schools. As many as three hundred have been seen in one school, old "bulls" and "cows," and their young ones swimming together far out at sea. It has been noticed that they all spout, or breathe, at the same time, and then dive to great depths. The old ones seem to know that their babies cannot stay under water as long as a full-grown Whale can, and they all rise at the same time. These youngsters may be nearly thirty feet long; but they gambol like so many kittens, twisting and turning over and over, and throwing themselves into the air. Most Whales are happy creatures, enjoying their roving life in the free ocean. You can well imagine that a Whale as big as a barge needs huge dinners. We should not be far wrong if we guessed that he would need about a ton of food every day. Where is he to get all that food? It is said that he feeds mostly on the Cuttle-fish, that giant cousin of the Octopus, who haunts the dim caverns of the deep. The Sperm is of enormous strength, and is as fierce as he is strong. Otherwise he would not dare to face the awful, clinging arms of the Cuttle, that ogre of the deep sea. The Sperm Whale has a great, blunt head, a huge mouth, and a throat large enough to swallow a man. His clumsy-looking head contains oil, so does the deep layer of blubber with which his body is covered. For the sake of this oil, the Sperm has always been hunted. But he is not easily overcome. He fights hard for life; and many a whaling boat has been dashed to pieces with one blow from the powerful tail of a hunted Sperm. This great tail is set cross-wise, not upright like the tail of a fish. It is of immense power, and divided into two big "flukes," as they are called. With strong up-and-down strokes the tail propels the monster along at a great pace. It also shoots him down to his feeding place in the depths of the sea, and up again to fill his lungs with sweet fresh air. The fins, or paddles, are used only as balancers, and to protect the young. These Sperm Whales inhabit warm seas, but others of the Whale family haunt colder regions. The greatest of these is the Right Whale, or Greenland Whale, a monster whose bulk rivals that of the Sperm. Now it is very strange that this, the largest member of the whole kingdom of animals, should live on some of the smallest creatures of the sea, and that the mouth and throat of this monster should be so made that he can eat only this minute food, food like that which the tiny Herring eats. In some parts of those cold northern seas the water is coloured in bands of red and blue. If you took up a bucketful, you would find that the colour was due to myriads of tiny creatures. Amongst these are other myriads of small animals, each of less size than a house-fly. The larger ones are there to feed on the smaller ones. And that mass of small life is the food of this mountain of fat and flesh, the Greenland Whale. He swims through the sea with his mouth gaping open, like a great cavern, and soon thousands of the little creatures are inside. Then his tongue comes forward. It is of immense size, and it pushes out all the sea water from his mouth. But the small animals remain inside! For the water is forced through a wonderful sieve, made of fringed plates, which hangs from his upper jaw. Instead of having teeth in his mouth, as many Whales have, the Greenland Whale has this sieve of "whalebone." Of course it is a large sieve, to fill so large a mouth. Yet it is never in the way, being neatly packed away at the top of the mouth, one plate over the other, when not in use. The mass of small animals, held back by this peculiar sieve, then slides down his throat, which is a tube about as wide as a boy's wrist! We said just now that Nature was full of surprises. Is it not surprising to find a gigantic Whale feeding in this way! Inside the great mouth the _Remora_? or Sucking Fish, is often found. This fish has an oval sucker on its head, by which it fixes itself to Whales, or even to the hull of a ship. It has fins, and can swim perfectly well, but prefers to live in this lazy way. The Whalebone Whales lead a peaceful, happy life, though not without dangers. The bitter cold of their northern home is nothing to them, for are they not snug in a deep blanket of blubber? To obtain food, they merely swim along with open mouth. These peaceful giants do not know how to fight for their lives, like the Sperm Whales. So, when man came, hunting the Greenland Whale for oil and "whalebone," he found an easy victim. They have other enemies, besides man. The Killer Whale is one of the fiercest, swiftest terrors of the sea. It is tiny, compared with the Greenland Whale, but much quicker and more cunning. Several Killers band together and spring to the attack at the same time, Like wild cats, they dash at the poor helpless Whale, and tear its sides with terrible curved teeth. The Sword-fish and Thresher Shark also help to destroy this harmless giant of the deep. The Sword-fish pierces it with his pointed "beak"; the other slashes the sides of the wretched Whale with its long tail. It is said, by those who have seen such a fight, that the Thresher's tail cuts deep into the Whale's sides. [Illustration: THE SUCKING FISH] In all parts of the wide sea there are Whales of one kind or another. We have looked briefly at the Sperm and Greenland Whales, and the Killer Whale. Besides these there is the Narwhal, or Sea-unicorn, with a wonderful tusk, which is really a big tooth, some six feet long. Another one, the Bottle-nose Whale, has a long, narrow "beak," and is sometimes washed up on our shores. The Pilot Whale is also seen in herds in our seas. Another visitor, the Rorqual, is not welcomed by the fishermen. This big fellow follows the shoals of Mackerel and Herring. He lives on them, swallowing as many at each gulp as would fill several big baskets. The fishermen can spare him the fish. But it is another matter when he swims through valuable nets, tearing through them as if they were so much cobweb. The commonest Whale of our seas is that small one, the Common Dolphin, who is a midget some five or six feet long. You may have seen Dolphins, for they swim near the surface, and may often be noticed not far from the shore. Like the Rorquals, they follow the Herring and Mackerel shoals. Now and again they dash into the nets, and are shown in the fish-market. EXERCISES 1. Describe how the Whale breathes. 2. What food do the Sperm and Greenland Whales eat? 3. How does the Greenland Whale eat its food? 4, Give the names of five kinds of Whale. LESSON VII TIGERS OF THE SEA [Illustration: A CORAL REEF.] The monsters of the Shark family, fortunately for us, live in warm seas, and so are not often found near the shores of Great Britain. But our seas contain smaller Sharks of various kinds, and in greater number than most people imagine. Sharks are fierce hunters. Many a poor sailor or diver has been torn to pieces and devoured by these ravenous tigers of the deep. Some Sharks are of great size and immense power; they are by far the largest of all living fish; and no animal in the whole kingdom of animals owns such a terrible death-trap of a mouth as the Shark. It is, in some kinds of Shark, armed with seven rows of teeth with keen edges and points! Sometimes a Shark follows a steamer in the open sea, day after day, waiting for whatever may chance his way; and it is astonishing what strange objects he will swallow. These monsters are often caught on a hook baited with a lump of meat, and are hauled to the steamer's deck. One Shark was found to contain all the rubbish that had been pitched overboard; tin cans, a bundle of old coats, a piece of rope, old bones, and so on. What a fierce hunger must have driven the Shark to swallow such a meal as that! Before we look at some of these fierce creatures, whom everyone dislikes, we will say a word for them. Nature meant them to be _scavengers_, to clean up the sea. And this they do. Dead and decaying flesh is a danger, and the Shark, ever hungry, clears it away quickly. Now and again fishermen bring a big Shark to port, and hang him in the market--not for sale, but as a "show." The Blue Shark is the one most often displayed like this. See how his mouth is set, well under the head, as in all Sharks; and notice the shape of the body. It tells of speed and strength in the water; its pointed, tapering form reminds one of the racing yacht. [Illustration: THE WHITE RAY] What is this fierce fellow doing so near our coast? He is often found off Cornwall--too often, thinks the fisherman. This Shark comes to seek the same prey as the fisherman--the shoals of Mackerel and Pilchard (a cousin of the Herring). Where the shoals go, the Blue Shark follows. The silly Mackerel, all crowded together, have no chance to escape their awful foe. They are nearly as helpless as a flock of sheep with a tiger in their midst. [Illustration: THE ELECTRIC RAY] If the Shark comes across a mass of Mackerel or Pilchards in a net, he looks on them as a fine feast. Dashing at them, he tears the net to pieces, swallowing lumps of netting with great mouthfuls of fish. Small wonder the fisherman detests this savage visitor which causes him such serious loss of time and money. He naturally looks on Sharks as useless "vermin," to be destroyed whenever possible. [Illustration: _Photo: A. F. Dauncey_. DOG-FISH EGG CASE] The Fox Shark, or Thresher, is another fierce visitor to these shores. This savage hunter comes after the Herrings, Pilchards and Sprats. It is said to hunt these useful little fish in a strange way. As you know, they travel in shoals. The Thresher swims rapidly round and round them. Nearer and nearer it comes to the unlucky little fish, and they crowd together, huddling up in a helpless mass. The Thresher adds to their panic by _threshing_ the water with its terrible tail. And then, as you can well imagine, it dashes at them and devours an enormous meal. Half the length of the Thresher is tail. Not long ago there was landed at one of our fishing ports a Thresher Shark of half a ton, its tail being over ten feet in length. Even the great Whale has reason to fear the fierce lashings of that long, whip-like weapon! Our commonest Sharks are those small ones known as Dog-fish, which you can often see at any fish market. They are good to eat, though not used much as food. Though small in size, they are large in appetite and fierce in nature. Like savage dogs, they hunt in packs, waging war against the Whiting, Herring and other fish. [Illustration: THE SHARK] There are several kinds of these small Sharks, known as Spur-dog, Smooth Hound, Greater-spotted and Lesser-spotted Dog-fish, and Tope. And you will hear fishermen call them by such names as "Rig," "Robin Huss," and "Shovel-nose." Fisher-folk dislike Sharks, the Dog-fish among them. All those creatures, like the Cormorant, Seal, and Shark, which catch fish for breakfast, dinner and supper, are rivals of the fisherman. He often pulls up his line to find but a part of a fish on the hook--the rest was snatched by a "dog." At times his nets are torn by these nuisances, when they attack the "catch" of fish. Or his lines come up from the deep all tangled round and round a writhing Dog-fish, which had swallowed the baited hook. We come now to those flat Sharks, whose flesh you may have tasted. No Sharks are nice-looking, but these flat ones--the Skates or Rays--are really hideous, Many of them are of great size and strength, and armed with spines on their bodies (_see_ p. 52, No. 3) as well as teeth in their ugly jaws. They have broad, flat bodies, with wide "wings," and a long thin tail. The whole shape reminds you of a kite, and you would hardly know the Ray or Skate as the Shark's first cousin. Yet it is only a Shark with flattened body, and whose side fins are so large that they spread out like fleshy wings. The mouth is on the under part, as it is in all Sharks. [Illustration: FISHES (No.1). 1. Blue Shark. 2. Saw Fish. 3. Starry Ray. 4. Ox Ray. 5. Plaice. 6. Trunk Fish. 7. Blue Striped Wrasse. 8. Malted Gurnard. 9. Muroena.] These flattened Sharks must be a terror to their neighbours. We shall see, in our next lesson, what strange weapons are used in the battles of the fish. The Rays or Skates have their share of spines, stings, and poisons. One glance at their shape tells you that speed is not their strong point. If they wish to eat fast-swimming fish--and they often do--they must use cunning. The Skate, being sandy-coloured and flat, is nearly invisible as it lies on the bed of the sea. There it lurks, waiting for the first unwary fish. A sudden spring, and its wide body smothers its unlucky victim. Skates also flap their way slowly over the ocean floor, looking for a dinner. They can eat shell-fish, and are fitted with teeth suited to the work of crushing such hard fare. But, as we have seen, they have also the Shark's love of eating other fish. These Skates are the only members of the Shark family that we value as food. You can see Skates of several kinds in the fish market. They go by such names as Thorn-back Ray, Blue Skate, Spotted Ray, Starry Ray, Cuckoo Ray, Long-nosed Skate and Sting Ray. EXERCISES 1. Of what use are Sharks? 2. How does the Thresher Shark hunt its prey? 3. Give the names of several Dogfish and Rays. 4. What is the food of the Skate, and how is it obtained? LESSON VIII THE DANGERS OF THE DEEP The "game" of hide-and-seek is played by most of the dwellers in the sea. Many of them are "hiders" and "seekers" by turn. That is to say, they are always seeking other creatures to devour, but must also be ready to hide from their own enemies. _Eating and being eaten_--that is the life of the sea. The small and weak ones must hide, and their lives depend on their skill in hiding. Perhaps we should not call it a "game," as it is not done for fun. But, though the sea is full of danger for some creatures, you must not think that they live in fear. There is no doubt that they enjoy their lives, each in its own way. Many are the quaint dodges and tricks of the hiders and seekers in the sea. We can mention but a few in this lesson. Look at the Spider Crabs, and their trick of dressing up. They have hooks on their backs, which catch in the seaweed. Some of them even tear off weed with their pincers, and fix it on to these hooks, and succeed in looking like bundles of weed, and not a bit like living Crabs. Then there are the fish which wear a coloured scaly coat. Many of them are not easily seen in the glinting water, as you know. Others are lazy; they lie on the bed of the sea, and wear a disguise which hides them from prowling foes. The Plaice and other flat-fish, as we noticed in Lesson 2, are coloured and marked like the sand and pebbles of their home; and they can even change colour to suit their background. They are wonderfully hidden, owing to this useful dodge. It is as if Mother Nature had given them the marvellous "cloak of invisibility," of which we read in fairy-tales. Shrimps and young Crabs wear a coat of sand-colour or weed-colour. Our soldiers, for much the same reason, wear suits of _khaki_. Another common hide-and-seek trick is to look like nothing at all. That sounds difficult, but it is a favourite dodge in the sea. If a number of very young Herrings or Eels were placed in a glass tank of sea-water, you would have a hard task to find them. You can look _at_ them, and yet not see them. They are transparent--you look through them as if they were water or glass. You can imagine how well hidden they are in the open sea. It is well to be able to hide, when all around you are enemies who look on you as good food. But there is another way, and that is to wear armour. Then you can frighten your enemy, or at least prevent him from eating you. Some fish, like the Trunk Fish, (p. 52, No. 6), are covered with bony plates, jointed together like armour. Spines and prickles are a commoner defence. The little Stickleback of our ponds wears sharp spines, and knows well how to use them. Even the terrible Pike will not swallow such a dangerous mouthful unless driven by hunger. Sea-fish are the most hunted of all living things. From the day they leave the egg, enemies lurk on all sides to gobble them up. The weak ones are eaten, and none of them has the chance to die of old age! So we find a defence of spines and prickles worn by many sea-fish. Spines on the fins are the commonest, and no doubt help to keep away enemies; but some fish go one better than that, and wear a complete suit of spines. The Porcupine-fish, as his name tells us, is one of these. He is a small fish, living in warm seas. No doubt he has many enemies, eager to meet him and eat him. But, when they see this little fish puff out his sides like a balloon, and when pointed spines rise up all over the balloon, they think better of it! They leave him alone; and the Porcupine-fish goes back to his usual shape, the spines lying flat until wanted again. He is sometimes called the Sea-hedgehog or Urchin-fish, and well deserves his name. Many of the Skates or Rays wear terrible spikes. The Starry Ray (p. 52, No. 7) is not easy to handle, dead or alive, for he has spines all over his body. The Thornback is another ugly fellow of this family, having spines on his back and a double row of them down his tail. Fishermen are careful to avoid the lash of this armed tail. The Sting Ray shows us still another weapon. At the end of its long tail it has a horrible, jagged three-inch spike. As this fish likes to bury itself in wet sand, bathers sometimes tread on it. In a flash the tail whips round! A poisonous slime covers the spike, causing great pain to the unlucky bather. Several poisonous fish are common near our coast. You may have seen the one called the Great Weaver, also its small cousin, the Sting Fish. The Weaver is dreaded by fishermen; for the spines on its back fin, as well as the one on its gill-cover, cause poisoned wounds. They are grooved, to hold a very poisonous slime. Some fish have the power to kill their prey, and stun their enemies, at a distance! Instead of a spiny defence, they are _armed with electricity!_ The best-known sea-fish of this sort is the Electric Ray, also called the Cramp Fish or Torpedo (_see_ p. 48). It is a clumsy fish about a yard long, and very ugly. Being too slow to catch its swift prey in fair chase, it stuns them with an electric shock, and then eats them. The electric power comes from the body of the Ray; if it wishes it can send a deadly shock through any fish which ventures near. Without chance of escape, it is at once stunned, and falls helpless. We come now to some formidable dangers of the deep--big strong fish, so well armed that they roam the seas without fear. On page 52 you see a picture (No. 2) of the Saw-fish, one of the Shark family. It is a large fish, and carries a big saw on its head, with which it stabs sideways at its prey. Imagine, if you can, a Shark about fifteen feet long and weighing a ton or so. Now suppose the top jaw of this monster to be drawn out into a hard, flat blade six feet in length. Then suppose there are sharp ivory teeth, one inch apart, fixed on each side the blade, and you have an idea of the Saw-fish. This strange Shark is said to be as strong as it is fierce. It kills its prey by tearing them open with side blows from its sharp, two-edged saw. Its big mouth is fitted with a great many rows of needle-like teeth. The Sword-fish wears a different weapon--a lance instead of a saw. He is not a Shark, but a cousin of the beautiful Mackerel. This warrior of the deep is more dreaded than the Saw-fish, and braver than any Shark. His speed in the water is marvellous; it makes him safe from attack. He carries in front of him a terrible weapon, and all sea-creatures hasten from his path as fast as they can. You may have seen the Sword-fish in a museum. There is a fine one in the London Natural History Museum, where there is also a "sword" from one of these fish, driven eighteen inches into the solid oak of a ship. The Sword-fish never thinks twice about attacking, no matter if his enemy is ten or twenty times as large as himself. He sees a Whale, and, like a flash, hurls himself at it, stabbing his sword as deep as it will go into the Whale's side. With a twist of his body the sword is wrenched free, only to be driven savagely in again. EXERCISES 1. Mention three ways in which sea-creatures try to escape their enemies. 2. How do the Sting-fish and Sting Ray defend themselves? 3. What is the Saw-fish like? 4. How does the Sword-fish attack its prey? LESSON IX THE FISH OF OUR ROCK-POOLS The pools left by the falling tide have many an interesting thing to show us. There are living creatures in plenty, besides the pretty weeds, shells, and other objects. Shrimps, Prawns and Crabs abound in the rock-pools and shallows, with anemones and shellfish of all kinds. In the rock-pools we shall also find the interesting little fish whose story we glance at in this lesson. Of course there are baby flat-fish, and large fish too, along the shore. But these are only visitors. The real rock-pool fish are those which live their lives there. Some of them are tiny things, two or three inches long. With quick movements like Shrimps they dart away as you approach. They have a way of hiding under weeds and rocks, being very clever at "hide-and-seek," and knowing all the dodges. But, by using a net, you will soon capture a few of them. Then you can put them in a small pool and examine them; or even keep them in an aquarium, giving them clean sea-water, seaweed, and the small shrimps on which they feed. [Illustration: PIPE-FISH AND FLUTE MOUTH] In our lesson on fish-nurseries we saw how the Sea-stickleback, Sand Goby and Pipe-fish cared for their eggs or young ones. These three fish are often to be found by the shore. As you look into the clear and still waters of a pool you may see a Pipe-fish getting its dinner. This funny creature looks more like a pencil swimming than a fish. It may be a foot in length, but its body is no thicker than a pipe-stem! [Illustration: FISHES (No. 2). 1. John Dory. 2. Rock Cod. 3. Sand Eel. 4. Small Pipe Fish. 5. Cuckoo-Wrasse. 6. Angler. 7. Whiting. 8. Gattorngine. 9. Sapphirnal Gurnard. 10. Three-bearded Rockling. 11. Red Gurnard. 12. Pipe Fish. 13. Bass. 14. Red Mullet. 15. Turbot.] It has very long jaws. They are quite useless, however, being fastened together! At their tip is an opening, though a very small one, and that is the mouth of the Pipe-fish. Of course, with such a mouth, the fish cannot bite its prey, and so has to suck in small creatures and swallow them. Its method of hunting them is strange. It stands on its head, as it were, takes in a mouthful of water, and spurts it out at the sandy bed of the sea. This stirs up the small living things, which are at once swallowed by the Pipe-fish. We have already seen how the male Pipe-fish carries his eggs in his "pocket." Another curious thing is his suit of armour. Instead of scales, he has hard plates all over his body. Very often you may see young Pipe-fish among Sprats and "Whitebait" in the fishmonger's shop. Most of the little shore-fish are either Gobies or Blennies. No doubt they have to avoid the sharp eyes of Gulls and Cormorants, for they are very anxious not to be seen. Some of these rock-pool fish do not mind being out of water for hours at a time. In every way Nature has fitted them for their life between sea and shore. They have cousins in warmer seas which love to come ashore at times. This is how a traveller describes one of these foreign Gobies:-- "Though they are fish, and breathe by gills, they have a passion for the land, and during the daytime may always be seen ashore, especially where the coast is muddy. They bask in the sun, and hunt for food, raising themselves on their fleshy fins.... When pursued, they take great springs, using their tails and fins for the purpose; and if they cannot escape into the sea, they will dive down the burrow of a land-crab, or dash into a bunch of mangrove-roots." They are very wary, having eyes like swivels, to turn in all directions. [Illustration: A BUTTERFLY BLENNY] The Spotted Goby, as we have already noticed, makes a nest under a shell, and guards it until the eggs hatch. Two other Gobies are quite common in the pools of our south coast--the One-spot Goby and the Two-spot Goby. The back fin has the one spot, or two spots, from which they get their name. Though they are such mites, they have sharp teeth, as you may already know if you have caught them with your fingers! These lively little fellows are not very easy to catch! They have a cunning way of hiding amid sand and rock, and are coloured to suit such places. One strange thing about the Gobies is their trick of anchoring themselves to a stone. You may wonder what kind of anchor they can use. It is a simple matter, however. The fins on the stomach are pressed together to form a little disc. This acts as a strong sucker, much like that of the Sucking Fish (p. 43). If the Goby wishes to stay still in one place, it presses its sucker to a stone; then it cannot be washed away by the ever-moving water. In the Blenny family we find big, ugly fish as well as pretty little ones of strange shapes and lovely colours. There are several kinds of small Blennies in our rock-pools. The Eyed Blenny, or Butterfly Blenny is not very common along our shores, but may be seen now and again. It is only a few inches in length, with eyes like jewels, a kind of tuft over each eye, and a pretty spot on its tall back fin. It will live quite well in a glass tank of sea-water; someone who kept many interesting fish says of this Blenny:-- "Our little Butterfly Blenny was not often to be seen. It was using an old whelk shell for a nursery. In this broken old shell the dainty fish was able to hide, and was so nervous that we seldom saw it. But we placed some food near the hole in the shell, and were rewarded by the sight of the Butterfly's head, and its lovely eyes, each with a little movable tassel above it." [Illustration: A SMOOTH BLENNY] Hidden under weed and stones is another small brownish fish of the shore, the Gunnell or Butter-fish. You may turn it out of its snug hiding-place, but you will have a hard task to catch it, even in a small rock-pool, and, once caught, it slips through your fingers like an eel. Its body is eel-shaped, with a narrow fin on the back, and covered with a layer of slime. It well deserves the name of Butter-fish. The eggs of this strange little fish are rolled into a mass by the two parents. By curling their long, slimy bodies around the eggs, a closely-packed ball is the result. This precious ball of eggs is then taken care of, and guarded by the two fish. In this nursery both the father and mother fish take their share as guardians. EXERCISES 1. Name three rock-pool fish. 2. Describe the Pipe-fish. 3. How does the Sand Goby anchor itself? 4. In what ways are these rock-pool fish so well fitted to live in such places? LESSON X SOME CURIOUS FISHES Now and again that queer fish called the Sea-horse is found by our coast; a little brown fish, with bluish-white spots and lines on the sides and tail. But Sea-horses are common in warmer seas, in the banks of seaweed where they love to dwell. You would never guess that these curious creatures were fish. The shape of the head, and the curved neck, remind you of a horse. It is also rather like the knight of the chess-board; or it may make you think of the dragon of the fable; but, really, the Sea-horse is like nothing on the earth, or in the waters. Nature has given it a special pattern of its own. Sea-horses use their twisty tails as monkeys do, clinging to the seaweed with them. They swim along slowly, in an upright position. Every now and then they seem to be falling forward on their noses, and pull themselves up again, only to begin falling a moment after. It is fun to see them play hide-and-seek among the weed in an aquarium. Some Sea-horses are like floating scraps of torn weed; this, of course, hides them from the eyes of enemies. [Illustration: SEA-HORSES] They have no teeth, but a long mouth like a pipe; so you can be sure they eat only the smallest sea-creatures. To add to his odd look, the Seahorse moves his eyes in a comic fashion. One eye may roll round and look at you, while the other gazes forward. As if this were not strange enough, he surprises us again. Mr. Sea-horse turns himself into a living nursery. He carries the eggs about with him, in a special pouch of skin! You will remember that the Pipe-fish also carries the eggs in his pocket, as it were. So you will not be surprised to hear that these two quaint fish belong to the same family. We will leave the funny little Sea-horse, and look at a very different fish--the Sunfish. This remarkable fish often reaches a good size; even near our coast big ones are caught now and again, and in warmer seas, where they are often killed for the sake of the oil they contain, big fellows of half a ton are quite common. This Sunfish has a peculiar shape. It looks as if it had once been an immense fish of the usual fish shape, but someone cut off the head and shoulders, and placed a short fin where the rest of the body had been. Above and below there is a long pointed fin. The mouth is very small, and has no real teeth; so the Sunfish lives on small prey, such as the young of other fish, or small shell-fish. Far away from land these strange Sunfish are met with, asleep near the surface, with the back fin showing above water. They roll along lazily, not unlike big cart-wheels. The top and bottom fins are for balancing and guiding the body, which is moved forward by the fin which frills the back part of this odd fish. [Illustration: GLOBE FISH] In the fishmonger's shop you may sometimes see that ugly monster of the deep, the Angler-fish, or Fishing-frog. Now and again he finds his way into the fishermen's nets; and is also caught on the lines, for he is so greedy that he will snap at a hooked fish. Rather than let go of his prey, he will be drawn to the surface. Then he is knocked on the head, and thrown into the boat with the other fish. Being slow and clumsy, the Angler-fish cannot chase his prey, so gets his dinner by fraud. Nature has given him a fishing line and a bait! He has long spines on his head, so beautifully joined to the bones of the head that they can wave to and fro very easily. At the tip of the front spine there is a loose, shining strip of skin--that is the bait. Now, all anglers know how a fish is lured by a shining bait. The Angler-fish seems to know this too. He buries himself in the wet mud and sand at the bottom of the sea. Then he waves the long spine, so that the shining tip glistens as it shakes in the water, until a fish swims up to see what it is all about. A sudden snap, and that inquisitive fish is inside a huge, toad-like mouth, well furnished with rows of sharp teeth. The Angler-fish puts his catch in his pocket, and begins fishing again, for he is never satisfied. His pocket is a loose bag of skin in the throat. This bag is always examined by fishermen who capture the Angler, for it may contain a nice big Plaice or Sole, worth money in the market. There are Angler-fishes in every ocean, and some live in the very deepest parts. In those black depths the little waving "bait" would not be seen. So it is made to shine, like a bluish spark moving to and fro over the cold black slime of the sea-bed. Down in those awful deeps it is for ever dark, and freezing cold, There is no day or night, summer or winter. No plants can live there. Yet in that strange, still world there are numbers of living things, though we know very little about them. There are weird Crabs, blind Lobsters, and fish terrors such as are never seen elsewhere. In that darkness you would think that eyes would be of no use, but some of the deep-sea fish have great black owl-like eyes. Others are quite blind, or have eyes like pin-points. Some of them make their own light, glowing with rows of little lamps on their bodies, each like the lamp of the glow-worm of our country lanes. Blue, red, and green these lights are, but no one can tell you their real use, or why they are so coloured. The blind fish feel their way with long feelers, stretched out like the threads of a web. [Illustration: THE FISHING FROG.] As there are no plants down there, these strange fish must live mostly on one another! And here is a puzzle, for some of them have great big bodies, but small heads and tiny mouths; others have bodies like ribbons, but large heads and huge mouths, and some are such gluttons that they swallow fish twice their own size! This sounds absurd, but it is true. Their mouths gape open like trap-doors, and their stomachs are made to stretch, to hold their huge meals! There are other terrors of the deep with such big teeth that they cannot shut their mouths. No doubt the sea holds yet other weird fish which no man has seen. EXERCISES 1. In what ways is the Sea-horse so different from most other fish? 2. In what ways are the Sea-horse and Pipe-fish alike? 3. How does the Angler-fish catch its prey? 4. Mention a few strange facts about the deep-sea fish. LESSON XI THE GARDEN OF THE SEA For many centuries men were puzzled over those strange growths in the sea--Corals and Sponges. Were they to be classed as animals or as vegetables? It was by no means an easy question to answer. Corals, with their pretty colour, and their stems and branches growing up from the sea-bed, were said to be shrubs, but they were as hard as rock, said some people, so how could they be vegetables? The reply to this was, that the Coral became hard as soon as it reached the air. Then, of course, it was found that Coral was as hard under water as above it, and the question was still unanswered. Sponges, too, were thought to be sea-plants for many, many years; though some people even said that they must really be made of hardened sea-foam! The Sponge took its place in the vegetable kingdom, then it was moved to the animal kingdom, and back again. This went on for long years. Then, by careful watching, it was found that the Sponge is an animal. True, it is a very lowly member of the great kingdom of animals, yet it is one, and not a plant. Like all other animals, the Sponge animal must eat, and its way of doing so is rather strange. If you look at any ordinary washing-sponge, you notice a great many very small openings and some larger ones amongst them. It is through the smaller holes, or pores, that the Sponge gets its supply of food. When it is alive, and in its own home, there is a current of water always passing through its and the Sponge depends on the food which the water brings. Now, if you could watch this water-current, you would see that it rushes into some of the holes, and out of others; it has a certain path to follow. It enters the small pores, or openings, of the Sponge, and goes along narrow canals, and is then led into larger ones. Finally, it rushes out again through those large openings we noticed. We may compare it with traffic coming into a city by many narrow streets, then passing into broader roads, and at last out again by big main roads. [Illustration: CUPS AND SOLID SPONGES] [Illustration: _Photo: A. F. Dauncey_. SEA FURZE] How does the Sponge animal cause this current; and how is it made to follow a certain path? The narrow canals in the Sponge are lined with lashes, or tiny hairs, so very small that you can just see them through a microscope. Now the secret of the wonderful water-current is a secret no longer. As long as the Sponge lives, these little lashes are always moving, always lashing the water along in one direction. They cause it to follow its proper course, through and through the Sponge, and out again into the sea. On its way it loses the tiny scraps of food which it contains, and carries away any waste stuff out of the Sponge. You will have noticed that there are various kinds of Sponges in the market; some are large and flat, others small and cup-shaped; some are soft, and others rather hard. They are all somewhat horny and elastic. This "spongy" material is the skeleton of the Sponge animal, cleaned and dried for your use. Some kinds of Sponge would tear your skin if you tried to use them, for they have a hard skeleton. It is made of lime, and sometimes of flint, which the Sponge obtains from its food. Of course we use only those sponge-skeletons which are soft; but the cheaper kinds do often contain little flinty needles. The best washing-sponges live in warm seas, attached to the rocks on the sea-bed. Divers go down and obtain them; or else they are dredged up, cleaned, dried, and sorted, and then sent to the market. Some Sponges, called Slime Sponges, have no skeleton, being merely a living mass of slime. Coral is also the hard skeleton of a little animal, known as the Coral Polyp. The rest of the polyp's body is soft jelly, which many fish regard as good food. The Sea Anemone--another jelly-animal--is first cousin to the Coral Polyp. And we may call the Jellyfish second cousin to these two, for it is in the same big division of the animal kingdom. The pretty red Coral, then, is really the hard part of a little jelly-animal. This animal is much like a Sea-anemone, with a hard skeleton of lime. Coral, as you know, looks like a solid rock; it is really made of needles of lime, fastened together into a solid mass by the little Coral Polyp. Now, many of the Coral animals have the strange habit of budding. The buds become perfect polyps, and then they, too, begin to bud. In this way, those marvellous _coral-reefs_ and _coral-islands_ have been made. Branch by branch, layer by layer, the hard Coral is built up by myriads of the small, soft-bodied creatures. This kind of polyp can live only in warm, clear water. So it is not found in the cold depths of the sea, nor in the seas near our islands, but in the warm shallow waters near tropical lands it flourishes so well that it builds up most wonderful Coral walls. So strong are they that they can defy the terrific force of the waves. [Illustration: THE PICTURE STORY OF A CORAL ISLAND.] Some coral-reefs are of immense size and strength. One, near the coast of Australia, is nearly a thousand miles in length. These marvellous works of the polyp are of great use, for they break the force of the waves, and so make a calm shelter for vessels. The brilliant masses of Coral make a world of colour in the clear seas of the tropics, a gay garden inhabited by fishes of gaudy hues. In dull seas we have, as a rule, dull creatures to match. And in bright, warm, sunny seas the fishes are also brightly coloured. A dull fish would show up amid such rich colours, so it is easy to know why Coral fish wear such fine clothes. Many of them spend all their time among the Coral, their food being the living tips of the Coral "branches," which they nip off with fine, sharp teeth. Others have teeth like millstones, fit for crushing the hard Coral, and eating the fleshy body of the polyp within. Blue, red and yellow, striped and spotted, and of wonderful shapes, are the fish which swim in these coloured gardens of the sea. Some of them have golden bands round their bodies, and fine spines which wave in the water like shreds of weed--all to help them hide in the bright, sunlit groves of Coral. Gorgeous Sea-anemones of all shapes and sizes add to the brightness; and even the Shrimps, Prawns, and Crabs are coloured to fit their background. Crabs are always surprising us with their queer ways and quaint "dresses"; and here, among the Coral, it is the same story. For there are Crabs whose shelly coats are covered with coloured knobs and spikes, so that the sharpest eye cannot pick them out from the Corals on which they rest. EXERCISES 1. How does the Sponge obtain its food? 2. What is Coral? 3. How are Coral-reefs formed? 4. Why are there no Coral-reefs in our seas? 
10513	----	Cassell's "Eyes and No Eyes" Series, Seventh Book ON THE SEASHORE By R. CADWALLADER SMITH With Eight Colour Plates And Many Black-And-White Illustrations CONTENTS LESSON I. FIVE-FINGERED JACK II. A STROLL BY THE SEA III. BIRDS OF THE SHORE IV. CRABS V. SHRIMPS, PRAWNS AND BARNACLES VI. PLANTS OF THE SHORE VII. FLOWER-LIKE ANIMALS VIII. SEA-WEEDS AND SEA-GRASS IX. THE JELLY-FISH X. SHELLS AND THEIR BUILDERS (1) XI. SHELLS AND THEIR BUILDERS (2) LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS COLOUR PLATES TREASURES OF THE SEASHORE [Missing] GULLS THE REDSHANK HERMIT CRABS FIGHTING THE COMMON LOBSTER AND HERMIT CRAB CRUSTACEA WEST PAN SAND BUOY SHELLS BLACK AND WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS COMMON FIVE-FINGERED STARFISH TEST OR SHELL OF A SEA-URCHIN THE CRAB PURSE CRAB HERMIT CRAB IN WHELK'S SHELL HERMIT CRAB WITH SEA FLOWERS THE LOBSTER THE SHRIMP SEA LILY SEA ANEMONE SEA-WEED FROND SEA MAT MEDUSA A MEDUSOID PRECIOUS WENTLETRAP COWRIES LESSON I. FIVE-FINGERED JACK. What fun it is down by the sea at low tide! Scrambling among the slippery rocks, we quickly fill a bucket with curious things. Some are dead, others very much alive; but all have a story to tell us--the story of the life they lead on the bed of the sea, or among the sands and rocks of the shore. Look, here is a Starfish! It is lying on the sand, left high and dry by the waves, for now the tide is low. The Starfish looks limp and lifeless, its five reddish-coloured "arms" are quite still. We know it is an animal that lives in the sea, and dies when washed ashore. But what does it do in the sea? How does it move without legs or fins? How can it live without a head? Has it a mouth? What does it eat, and how does it find its food? Like so many other sea-animals, the Starfish is a puzzle. Some of its little tricks puzzled clever people until quite lately. But we know most of its secrets now. Pass your finger down one of its arms, or rays. It feels rough, being covered with knobs and prickles. Now turn the Starfish over, and look carefully at its underside. In the centre, where the five arms meet, is the animal's mouth. A harmless sort of mouth, you think, too small to be of much use. Really, it is a terrible mouth, the mouth of an ogre! We notice a groove down the centre of each ray. But what are those little moving things which bend this way and that, as if feeling for something? Now that is exactly what they are doing. They are the feet of the Starfish. Each tiny foot is really a hollow tube, which can be pushed out or drawn in. At the tip of each is a powerful sucker, which acts rather like those leather suckers boys sometimes play with. Suppose the Starfish wishes to take a walk along the bed of the sea. First, it pushes out its tube-feet. Each sucker fixes itself to a stone or other object, and then the animal can draw its body along. You will see presently that the suckers can do other work too. Our Starfish will die, however, unless we carry it to a pool. Before doing so, we must look at the tip of each ray for a small reddish spot. That is the Starfish's eye. Are those little eyes of much use in helping the creature to find its dinner? I think not. Most likely the Starfish _smells_ its way. If we put the animal on its back in a rock-pool we shall see the tube-feet at work. Once in the water our Starfish revives, and makes efforts to right itself. Can it turn over and crawl away? The little tube-feet come out of their holes and begin to bend about. Now those near the edge of one "arm" feel the ground. Each tiny sucker at once takes hold, more and more of them touch the ground as the ray is turned right side up, and at last the Starfish turns over, and, slowly but surely, glides away. [Illustration: COMMON FIVE-FINGERED STARFISH.] Stones, shells, or rocks do not stop it. The rays slide up and over them. If we had feet like those of the Starfish, a journey up the wall of a house, over the roof, and down again, would be nothing to us. Nature gives all creatures the kind of foot which suits the life they lead. And it is hard to imagine feet more useful to the Starfish than those wonderful sucker-feet! Ask any fisherman what he thinks of the "harmless" Starfish, and he will call it a pest and a nuisance. "It gets into the crab traps," he says, "and eats all the bait. And when we are line-fishing it sucks the bait off our hooks, and sometimes swallows hook and all." Small wonder that Five-fingers, or Five-fingered Jack, as it is called, has no friend among fisher-folk. On pulling up a useless Starfish instead of a real fish, the fisherman tears the offender in half and throws the halves back into the waves. By doing this he harms himself more than the Starfish! Each half grows into a perfect Starfish with five rays complete. We can say that each part of this animal has a separate life, for each part can grow when torn away. If you were asked to open an oyster you would need tools, would you not? Even with an oyster-knife it is not always an easy job. The oyster, tight in his shelly fortress, seems safe from the attack of a weak Starfish. Yet the Starfish opens and eats oysters as part of its everyday life. Finding a nice fat oyster, it sets to work. The Starfish folds its rays over its victim, with its mouth against the edge where the shells meet. The tug-of-war begins. The Starfish's tube-feet try to pull the shells apart; the oyster, with all its strength, tries to keep them shut. It is stronger than its enemy, and yet the steady pull of hundreds of suckers is more than it can stand, and the shells, after a time, begin to gape a little. Now a strange thing happens. The mouth of the Starfish opens into a kind of bag which slips between the oyster shells. The Starfish, as it were, turns itself inside-out! It then eats the oyster and leaves the clean shell. Mussels are smaller, so they are eaten in a different way. The Starfish merely presses the mussel into its mouth, cleans out the shells, and throws them away. Were we not right to call this wonderful mouth the mouth of an ogre? Oysters, as you know, are so valuable that we rear them in special "beds." Along comes the hungry Starfish, with thousands of its relations, finding the fat oysters very good eating. They do great damage in our oyster-fisheries, and it is one long battle between them and the keepers of the "beds." Supporting the tough skin of Five-fingered Jack is a wonderful skeleton. It is like a network of fine plates and rods made of lime. Perhaps you have seen one in a museum. Five-fingers has a great number of cousins, some of them common enough along our shores. One of the strangest is the Brittle Star. On first seeing one of these animals I tried to capture it by holding its long, wriggling arms. At once the arms broke off. Then I tried to scoop the creature out of its watery home. But it began to break its "rays" off as if they were of no value whatever. To my surprise, the broken "rays" broke again while wriggling on the ground. This is a strange habit, is it not? Perhaps the Brittle Star has found this dodge useful in escaping from enemies. Anyhow, the loss of an arm or two matters little, for others grow in their place. Another cousin of the Starfish is the Sea-urchin, a round prickly creature rather like the burr of the sweet-chestnut tree. This mass of prickles is not a vegetable; he is very much alive. Nature has given many plants and animals these prickles, like fixed bayonets, for a defence against their enemies. You will at once think of the gorse and the hedgehog, or urchin, as some people call it. Our little Sea-urchin has prickles, like the hedgehog, but he is really unlike any other living creature, except, perhaps, the Starfish. If you were to roll up a Starfish into a ball, and then stick about three thousand spines on the ball thus made, you would have a creature looking rather like a Sea-urchin. Beneath the mass of spines there is a hard _test_ or shell, made of plates joined closely together; this is the skeleton of the Sea-urchin. Sometimes you find this strange shell on the seashore, rather dirty, and not always sweet-smelling. You might also find Sea-urchins half-dead, washed into the rock-pools. The shells are wonderful objects, so you should clean them in fresh water; they are well worth the trouble of taking home. All over the shell you will see little rounded knobs. These show where the spines were fixed on; each spine fits into a hole in the shell, but so loosely that it is able to move about. The Sea-urchin can walk by moving its spines, tilting its body along from one place to another on the bed of the sea. It can do much more than that. Like its cousin the Starfish, it has numerous tube-feet, so you would not be surprised to see this prickly ball walk up the face of a rock. The tube-feet, or sucker-feet, are fixed to the shell in much the same way as the spines. They can be bent this way or that. If the Urchin is on a rock he clings tightly with these sucker-feet; then, if he wishes to move away, you will see the long thin tubes stretch out and bend about. They fix themselves to the rock, and the animal is drawn along. [Illustration: TEST OR SHELL OF A SEA-URCHIN.] Besides these spines and suckers, the Sea-urchin owns another set of tools. Scattered over it, among the spines, are many tiny rods tipped with little teeth or pincers. You will not be able to see them, except under a magnifying glass. Of what use are these strange little pincers or rods? It is thought that the Urchin uses them in several ways. They may help in capturing small prey, or they may be used when the creature has to fight a larger enemy. They are also certainly of use as cleansing tools. That is to say, they can pick off tiny scraps of weed or dirt which settle on the animal's body. Some Starfishes also own pincers of this sort, but they are not so perfect as those of the funny little Urchin. We must not forget that all these spines, tube-feet, and pincers are worked by a set of muscles. In the centre of the Urchin's shell is its mouth. The Starfish, we found, had a terrible mouth, but that of the Urchin is worse still. Not only is it of great size, but it is fitted with strong jaws and five long, sharp teeth, You may see them poking out from the mouth of the animal, and feel for yourself how hard they are. There is a great deal more to know about Five-fingers; and the Sea-urchin still has his secrets which no one can explain. We have but glanced at their story in this lesson; but you can see that the Starfish, lying limp on the sands, is not so dull as it looks. EXERCISES 1. Where is the mouth of the Starfish placed? 2. Describe how the Starfish moves. 3. How does the Starfish feed on the oyster? 4. Why is the _Brittle_ Star given that name? 5. How do the Starfish and Sea-urchin keep themselves clean? LESSON II. A STROLL BY THE SEA. The sea and the land are always at war. When you are at the seaside, with spade and bucket to make "castles" and "pies" of the sand, you can see and hear the battle. A wave comes rolling smoothly on towards the shore. It reaches the land and can go no further, and then, with a roar and a crash and splash of sparkling foam, it breaks. It spreads into a sheet of foaming water, and, after rushing as far as it can up the beach, it seethes back as the next wave takes up the battle. What a grinding and tearing, as wave after wave is hurled at the land! That is the battle-cry of the land and sea! Most of the pebbles and the sand on the beach have been won from the land in the great fight. We might call them the spoils of war. Once they formed part of the solid land, the rock or cliff. Now they are loose fragments spread for mile after mile round our coast. Every wave takes them up and has fine fun with them. Pebbles and sand are picked up, swirled along, and thrown at the shore. They are sucked back as the wave is broken by the land. And then the following wave takes them, grinds them and scrubs them together. Thus they are jostled hither and thither, up and down the coast; and, as a result of the long, long fight, rocks and cliffs become pebbles, sand, or mud. Now if you look at the pebbles on the shore you see that many of them are smooth and round. Some are as round as the "marbles" you play with. No wonder, for the mighty sea has scoured them with sand and rolled them for miles. As you know, the sea is not always at the same height. It falls and rises. Twice in every day it _ebbs_ and _flows_; we call this movement of the sea the _tides_. At low tide we can explore the very bed of the ocean. We can visit the homes of the living, breathing animals, which, at high tide, are hidden far under water. Between the high-water mark and low-water mark is our hunting-place. There we shall find the play-ground and feeding-ground of many a strange creature. Here is a stretch of sand, with little channels of water; there is a patch of shingle mixed with numbers of tiny shells. The ebbing tide leaves shallow pools in every hollow of the beach, and these pools are often full of life. Shrimps dart away and disappear in the sand as if by magic. Small fish and crabs hide from you as best they can. Helpless jelly-fish and starfish sprawl on the wet sand. What are those thin ropes of sand coiled up into little mounds? They remind us of "worm-casts." They are thrown up by a sand-worm, called "lug-worm" by the fisherman. He brings a spade and digs wherever he sees the sandy ropes of the "lug," for this worm makes good fishing bait. Seagulls love to explore the shallow pools. You may see them walking solemnly about, picking up stray morsels. If you see a screaming group of them you can be sure that one has found an extra large prize, and the others mean to share the feast. Let us walk down the beach towards the sea. Soon we find ourselves among rocks. Now these rocks are the bare bed of the shore, stripped of all covering. There is no mud, sand, or shingle, so here you see plainly the work done by the restless water. On every side you notice rocks worn to all shapes and sizes. Some jut out as sharp ledges. Others are flat tables, covered with a table-cloth of sea-plants. These clothe the rocks, or hang over the ledges like wet, shining green curtains. Nearly every rock has its crust of barnacles and clumps of mussels. If we are not careful we slip on the wet weeds, and get a ducking in the pools which lie everywhere among the rocks. Here is the best place of all for sharp eyes to find the animals and plants we seek. Where the hard rock has been worn down into hollows, the falling tide leaves a pool of still, clear water. These rock-pools are the home of many a creature. So let us look for them, until the rising tide sweeps over the rocks once more, and drives us away. Sea-anemones and seaweeds brighten the pool with their various colours. Pretty shells gleam here and there; and on the face of the rock there are more limpets, barnacles and mussels than we can count. Where are the other living animals which we came to find? You will not see them unless you hunt for them in the right way. It is a game of "hide-and-seek." They are the "hiders"; and, as their lives often depend on their skill in hiding, you cannot wonder that they know every trick in the game. There may be crabs, fish, shrimps, and others in the pool. If you look for a moment, and then walk to the next pool, your hunting will not have much result. It is best to lie down and wait patiently, gazing into the clear water of the pool. The little inhabitants are hidden in the dark corners under the rock ledges, or buried under stones and sand; or they may be hiding in those thick clumps of mussels--a favourite lurking-place; or else tucked away in the friendly shelter of the seaweed. Knowing their dodges, you will soon become clever at finding them. Some seaside dwellers, such as prawns, are almost transparent in the water. Others, like baby crabs, are green or brown like the weed in which they hide. Even the sharp eyes of the seagulls must be deceived by this trick. What a strange life they lead, these creatures of the shore! At times they are deep under water, and they form part of the teeming life of the ocean floor. Then the tide falls and uncovers them. They are in the full light of day again, the sun shines on them. Most of them cannot escape to the sea, and so must face the enemies which prowl along the shore looking for prey. So, from one tide to the next, the rock-pool is like a prison containing prisoners of the strangest sort. [Illustration: GULLS. 1. COMMON GULLS. 2. LESSER BLACK GULL. 3. GLAUCOUS GULLS.] EXERCISES 1. How is the sand formed? 2. Give the names of some of the animals to be found in the rock-pools. 3. Where do these animals hide? 4. Prawns and shore-crabs are not easily seen; why is this? LESSON III. BIRDS OF THE SHORE. On some parts of our coast we find steep cliffs, with the sea beating wildly at their feet. Elsewhere there is a sloping beach of sand and shingle with, perhaps, dark rocks showing at low tide. We explored such a beach as that in our last lesson. There are long, long stretches of sand and thin grass in other places, or else mile after mile of muddy, dreary, salt marshes. Birds are to be found on every kind of coast. Some, like the Seagull, wander far and wide. Others keep to the cliffs, and many find all they need in the wide mud-flats. Such an army is there of these shore birds, that we cannot even glance at them all in this lesson. So we will take a few of them only--the Black-headed Gull, the Cormorant, the Ringed Plover, the Oyster-catcher and the Redshank. Out of all the many kinds of Gulls, you know the Black-headed one best. If you live in London you can see and hear him, for he and his cousins have swarmed along the Thames of late years. They find food there, and kind people enjoy feeding the screaming birds as they wheel in graceful flight over the bridges and Embankment. The country boy, too, sees this Gull. He flies far inland, following the plough, and he then rids the land of many a harmful grub. Because of this habit, some people call him the Sea-crow. At all seaside places you find him, and there he fights for his meals with the Herring Gull, the Common Gull, the Kittiwake and others. Really we should call this gull the Brown-headed, not the Black-headed, Gull; for the hood is more brown than black; and again, if you look for this bird during your summer holidays, you will see no dark hood on his head. You might, though, know him then by the red legs and bill, and the white front-edging to his lovely pearly-grey wings. Look at him in January, however, and you see dark feathers beginning to appear on his head. The fact is, this dark hood is the bird's wedding dress. It comes only when the nesting season draws near. Then he leaves the fields, parks, and rivers, to fly away to the nesting-place. These Gulls love to nest in colonies--that is, near one another. Among rushes and reeds, and rough grass growing in deep wet mud, they feel that their nests are safe. There they lay three eggs. The chicks, almost as soon as they leave the eggs, can run about. If there is no dry land near the nest, these youngsters tumble in the water and swim without bothering about swimming lessons. In summer they are ready to fly with their parents round the coast, and to the muddy mouths of large rivers, where they feed. Flocks of them are also seen out in the open sea, feeding on the shoals of small fish. They also follow steamers, for the sake of any scraps thrown overboard, and they crowd round the fishing boats when they are being unloaded. You see, they are _scavengers_, and so are to be found wherever there are waste scraps of food. Perhaps you have noticed that Gulls float high in the sea, like so many corks. They can leave the water easily, and take to flight; but they _cannot_ dive. The Gull's dinner-table is the whole coast. His eyes are keen enough, as you will know if you have watched him swoop down on a piece of bread in mid-air, and catch it neatly in his beak. The flight of this Gull is beautiful, graceful, and easy. Sometimes he wheels up and up into the blue sky, almost without moving a wing. He can also glide for a great while, balancing his body against the wind, and turning his head from side to side on the look-out for food. Those long, pointed wings of his make him one of Nature's most perfect flying-machines. His wild, laughing cry has given him the nickname of Laughing Gull. In the fields and along the banks of our big rivers you may see the Common Gull with numbers of his black-headed cousins. His beak and legs and webbed feet are greenish yellow, and this is quite enough to distinguish the two birds. Their habits are much the same. Both skim over the sea, or the coast, looking for waste food. They are not very "choice" in their meals; dead fish or live fish, young crabs, worms, shell-fish or grubs they eat readily, as well as any offal thrown from passing ships, or the refuse of the fish-market. One of these scavenging birds was seen to be carrying a long object, like an eel, in its mouth. The bird was shot; and it was then discovered that the "eel" was really a string of candles! The greedy Gull had half-swallowed one, leaving the rest to hang down from its bill. The Common Gull nests in "colonies," like the Black-headed Gull. Its nest is made of seaweed, heather, and dried grass, in which it lays its three greenish-brown eggs. Another bird to be seen along all parts of our coast, summer and winter alike, is the Cormorant, usually with a small party of his friends. They fly swiftly, one behind the other, and a long line of them reminds one of the pictures of "sea-serpents," especially as they fly quite near the surface of the sea, each one with its long neck outstretched. The Gull flies beautifully, as if he knew his power, and loved to show how he can skim and dive through the air. The Cormorant is not a flier, but a swimmer and diver; he cannot "show off" in the air, and only uses his narrow wings to take him, as quickly as may be, from one fishing-place to another. Most of the Cormorant's time is spent in fishing, for he lives entirely on fish, and catches immense numbers of them. He spends many hours, too, in drying his wings. I once saw a number of these birds with their wings "hung out to dry." Each one was perched on a stump of wood, across the muddy mouth of a river, and each sooty-looking bird had his wings wide open in the sun. This habit seems to show that the Cormorant uses his wings, as well as his feet, in his frequent journeys under water. The powerful webbed feet of the Cormorant, set far back on the body, the darting head, long neck, and long curved beak, tell you plainly how he earns his meals. He is a clever fish-hunter, and the fishermen, knowing the appetite of this keen rival of theirs, detest him and destroy him. In some countries there is a price on his head--that is, so much money is given for every Cormorant killed. Sometimes the Cormorant swims slowly along with his head under water, on the watch for small fish. Seeing one below him, he dives like a flash, and can remain under water for some time; he wastes very little time, however, in swallowing his victim head first. The great skill of this bird has been made use of, and tame Cormorants are used in China to obtain fish for their masters. They have been used in England, too, for the same purpose. A strap is placed round the bird's neck to prevent him from swallowing the catch. He is then set to work. After catching five or six fish he is recalled by his master, and made to disgorge his prey, which, of course, he has swallowed as far as the strap will permit. The Cormorant is famous for his large appetite; he chases even big fish, of a size to choke him, you would think. Like his relative the Pelican, he owns a very elastic throat. I have seen a Pelican put a half-grown duck in its pouch, without much trouble. The Cormorant could not perform this feat, but his throat will stretch so as to allow the passage of large fish. Small fish he usually tosses up in the air, catches them neatly head first, and swallows them whole. Another bird of our coast is the Oyster-catcher, sometimes called the "Sea-pie" or Mussel-picker. These names suit it well, for it does not live on oysters, but on mussels, limpets and whelks. Of course, these are easily "caught" at low tide; they are not easily eaten, so the Sea-pie has to earn his dinner by hard work. In fact, his beak is often notched by the sharp, hard edges of the shells of these molluscs; and at times, he haunts the low banks of mud and ooze near the sea, and there picks up worms and other soft-bodied animals. As his name Sea-pie shows, the Oyster-catcher is a black-and-white bird, his under parts being white and upper parts black. His legs and long, straight bill are red. Most birds of the waterside seem to find that black-and-white feathers make a good disguise. Though they would show up plainly on a green field, they are well hidden among the stones along the edge of the water. The Sea-pie makes no nest, only a hole in the sand or shingle, lined with small stones or shells. The eggs are coloured and marked so that they are hard to see among the stones which surround them. The youngsters wear a fluffy suit of grey, marked with dark streaks and dots; and it takes very sharp eyes indeed to pick them out from the shingle where they crouch. The Ringed Plover is another bird which loves the sandy, pebbly margin of the sea. Have you ever watched him there? He is not much larger than a plump lark, and he runs quickly along the beach, stooping now and again to pick up the morsels of food which his keen eye detects. But, all the while, he is watching you with the other eye, for he is a wary little bird, and not to be taken by surprise. _If_ you can get near him, you will notice his rather long yellowish legs, greyish-brown back, and, more than all, the white collar round his neck, and the black band showing on his white chest. Again we see the black-and-white markings which are so useful to the bird of the shore. Everyone who knows the Ringed Plover loves to watch him. He is one of the daintiest, most fairy-like birds. When he is picking up worms and sand-hoppers on the wet sand he is easily observed. But wait! He flies off and settles on the shingle not far away. You walk nearer, to watch him. Alas! he is gone. You know just where he settled, yet he is gone! He has often played that trick on me. The secret lies in his grey, white-and-black markings. When our ships were in danger from enemy submarines, our sailors painted them with queer stripes and bars, to make it hard for the enemy to see them. Nature has marked the Ringed Plover on the same plan. The feathers are so coloured and the colours are so arranged that, once among the grey, yellow, black, and white pebbles on the beach, the little bird is invisible. It is as if the earth had swallowed him up. The eggs, too, are just as hard to find. There is no nest to "give the game away"; and the eggs look just like the pebbles amongst which they are laid. The young ones are protected from their enemies in the same way, and they crouch, as still as death, amid the stones which they so much resemble. Now let us leave the beach and look for the Redshank on the mud-flats. Many birds would starve there, but the Redshank is quite happy, as Nature has fitted him for his life in such a place. His long, red legs--from which he gets his name--are for wading in the shallow, muddy creeks he loves. Those wide-spreading feet keep him from sinking in the mud. The long beak is for probing. As a rule the Redshank digs for his dinner, though he also picks up any worms or other food on the surface; but he is nearly always seen probing the mud. Like all the shore birds, Redshanks are very wary. They have no hedges or trees for hiding-places, and so must always be on the watch. No sooner does the Redshank spy you than he is up and, with a shrill whistle of alarm, flies quickly away. The marshes are the home of many a bird like the Redshank. They are all waders and diggers. They live much as he does, and so they have the long beak and legs, and the spreading feet, to fit them for that life. We have now looked at a few sea birds, shore birds, and a marsh bird. Many inland birds, too, are fond of the shore. The artful Jackdaw builds in the cliffs, and his cousin, the Crow, searches the shore for food. Even the gay Kingfisher has been seen diving in the seaside pools. EXERCISES 1. How do you know which is the Black-headed Gull in the summer months? 2. Why is it difficult to see the Ringed Plover on the stones of the shore? 3. Where would you look for the eggs of the Ringed Plover and of the Black-headed Gull? 4. Why have marsh birds such long beaks? LESSON IV. CRABS. Little Crabs are to be found everywhere along the sea-shore--not the monsters of the fishmonger's shop, but small greenish-brownish Crabs. They live in the weed of the rock-pools, and in the wet sand. These are the Shore Crabs; the large Edible Crabs are a different kind, and live mostly in deep water. Shore Crabs are quarrelsome little creatures; the larger ones are always ready to gobble up the smaller ones, or to snatch their food and run away with it. If you put some dead mussels or fish in a pool, you will be amused at their antics. How they scramble and fight! Crabs do not believe in "table manners." [Illustration: THE REDSHANK.] [Illustration: THE CRAB.] It is their taste for waste scraps of food that makes crabs of use in the sea. They are most useful scavengers. They clear the sea and beach of dead matter which would poison the air and water. For many years nobody knew how Crabs grew up. It was thought that a baby Crab was like its mother, just as a baby spider is a tiny picture of its parent. But no, the young Crab is as much _like_ a Crab as a caterpillar is like a butterfly. Let us begin at the beginning--the egg. Mother Crab carries her eggs with her, under her tail, which itself is always kept tucked up under her body. Out of each egg there comes the queerest little creature! It is just large enough to be seen as it wriggles in the water. Then its skin splits, and there appears a quaint thing with long feathery legs, a big head, a spike on the back of its head, and another spike like a nose. Who would suspect this strange atom would turn into a Crab! Well, nobody did. It was called a _zoea_; but you can call it a Crab caterpillar or larva. The maggot is the larva of the fly, and the zoea is the larva of the Crab. With crowds of its brothers and sisters, the zoea kicks about on the surface of the sea. Fishes, and even great whales, swallow these tiny things by the million. The Crab larva eats and grows. Again and again its skin splits, and a rather different zoea appears. This happens about once a week, until, hey presto! the spiked zoea is now rather like a Crab. The spikes are gone, and now it has tiny claws, and two eyes at the end of stalks. Yet it still owns a tail. At last this is tucked up under its body, and lo! our little friend has changed into a very small Crab. No longer able to swim about, it comes to get a living in the shallow pools of the shore. Luckily, this helpless baby knows how to hide. He is helped by his colour, for it matches the green and brown of the weeds and rocks. He knows how to dig himself into the sand, and work his shell well down. Then only his funny eyes on stalks peer up at you. At this time of his life he has to "make himself scarce," and snatch his food when and where he can. [Illustration: PURSE CRAB.] We do not eat these little Crabs, but other Crabs do, and so do anemones, gulls, and other hungry creatures; and they themselves hunt sand-hoppers, and eat anything they can find or steal. So they grow bigger; and then, like the boy who grows quickly, the Crab finds his shelly suit a size too small for him! Now look at his suit. It is a hard coat, a complete suit of armour to protect his soft body. Our picture shows the Lobster, the Crab's cousin. The Shrimp and Prawn and Lobster are relations of the Crab; these _crustaceans_, as they are called, are all cased up in a hard _crust_, which will not stretch the slightest little bit. But the Crab's body _must_ grow! What is he to do? At first he starves himself, and so his body shrinks inside its old shell. He loosens himself as well as he can. Soon the shell breaks across, and the Crab struggles to get free. At last he backs out, and leaves his old suit for ever. It is a wonderful performance, for he has withdrawn even from the legs, claws, feelers, bristles, eye-stalks and eyes! The old shell is left quite whole--a perfect Crab, but with no Crab inside it! Now the Crab, in his new suit, hides away. He knows that he is a soft, flabby creature at this time, and that other animals, even Mrs. Crab, would be glad to meet him--and eat him. While his covering is yet soft he grows quickly. When it is hard, he ventures out again, ready to quarrel and fight. This change of shell happens often to young Crabs. Older ones change only once a year. All the different kinds of Crab begin life as _larvae_ or _zoeas_, and cast their shells as we have seen. Crabs can see and hear and smell; and they must also have a fine sense of touch. I was once watching a big Crab eating his dinner under a rocky ledge in a large glass tank. As he tore his food, some of the bits, no larger than crumbs, fell and settled on the rocks below. Then I saw that a smaller Crab, with long pincers, was hiding under a rock. As the crumbs fell, he reached out his pincers and picked them up, one by one. Each bit was gravely carried to his mouth, and tucked in, and then he reached out for another. Though I was very close to the Crab, I could hardly see the tiny scraps which he was able to pick up so easily. One of the strangest Crabs is the Hermit. You would think that Nature had played a joke on him, for he has only half a suit of armour. His tail part is soft. He would have a bad time in the sea, but for a dodge he has learnt. The baby Hermit takes the empty home of a periwinkle. As he grows he needs a larger house, and so leaves the tight shell and pops his tail into a bigger one, generally a whelk shell. If he meets with another Hermit there is a battle, one trying to steal the other's shell. Our coloured picture, page 35, shows some Hermits at war. Fighting, house-hunting, and moving house seem to be the Hermit's favourite pursuits. But, whatever he does, his first care is to protect that soft tail of his. His right claw is large and strong, so he uses it to close the door of his stolen home. Sometimes he has a lodger who lives on the roof. This lodger, as you will notice in our coloured picture, is the sea anemone. The Hermit and his lodger seem to be good friends, at least they seem to like each other's company. There is no doubt that there are good reasons for this. We shall have more to say about this strange pair in our lesson on the sea anemones. [Illustration: HERMIT CRAB IN WHELK'S SHELL.] Another funny Crab is the Spider Crab. Its back is covered with reddish bristles, like so many hooks. These catch in the seaweed, and soon the Spider Crab is decorated with bits of weed. But that is not all. The artful Crab tears off other pieces of weed with its pincers, and attaches them to the hooks. It is another dodge, of course, to escape from enemies. The Lobster, whose picture you see, has a life-story much like that of the Crab. He, also, grows too big for his suit of armour, and casts it off in a wonderful manner, but only after a great deal of trouble. In his new suit he is very weak and soft--an easy prey to the first enemy to find him. He cannot defend himself then; he can only lie helplessly on his side, waiting for his coat to harden. He is so weak that his soft legs cannot bear the weight of his body. [Illustration: HERMIT CRABS FIGHTING.] Needless to say, the Lobster always finds a secure retreat before casting off his protecting coat of armour. A hole under a rock suits him well at that time. Strange to say, he seems to dislike his old clothes, and often crunches them to pieces or eats them up, or even pushes them under the sand or stones! Then he marches out like a proud warrior, knowing his strength, and the power of his great claws. Lobsters are fond of fighting, and must be very disagreeable neighbours. They can swim along by using the little "swimmerets" under their bodies. Or, by rapidly bending down their powerful tails, Lobsters are able to shoot backwards through the water at a great pace. In our next lesson we shall find that Prawns are also able to paddle forwards or dart backwards in a similar way. Lobsters, living and dead, are often on sale in the fishmonger's shop. Like the Crabs and Prawns, they are usually caught in traps or pots, baited with pieces of fish, and left among the rocks. The traps are of various shapes, some being like bee-hives made of cane or wicker; others are made of netting stretched over hoops, and more like a bird-cage in shape. The Lobster smells the bait in the trap, and hastens to get to it by diving through the only entrance. Having enjoyed his meal he tries to swim away; but there is no escape, and there he must wait until the owner of the trap makes his usual "round" in the morning. Of course, there is a rope to every trap, and a cork to mark its position. [Illustration: HERMIT CRAB WITH SEA FLOWERS.] Then the Lobster finds himself taken carefully out of prison; his claws are tied to prevent him from fighting, and he goes to market with a lot of other Lobsters. There are many lobster fisheries along the rocky parts of our coast. [Illustration: HERMIT CRAB WITH SEA FLOWERS.] You will often see Lobsters with one very large claw, and one small. They are able to throw off a limb or two whenever they are frightened. Also they often lose a claw in the terrible fights of which they seem so fond. If one joint of a claw becomes injured the Lobster has no further use for it; he is wise, for his very life depends on his armour. So he throws it away, not at the wounded joint, but at the joint above. After a time a slight swelling appears on the stump thus made; this gradually grows into a new limb. It may be smaller than the lost one, but it is perfect in detail. What a useful gift this must be to an animal like the Lobster, whose whole life is one terrible fight after another! The baby Lobsters, like the baby Crabs, are quite unlike their parents. They swim about at the surface of the sea, and already they seize every chance of fighting and eating their small neighbours. When about one inch in length they leave this infants' school, and join another at the bottom of the sea. Here they eat, fight, grow and change their coats, just as the young Crabs do. They are now like their parents. Sometimes they grow to be huge, and to weigh as much as ten-and-a-half pounds. The mother Lobster carries as many as thirty thousand eggs under her body! Needless to say, a very, very few of this enormous family survive the dangers of the sea. The rule there is--"Eat and be eaten!". EXERCISES 1. What is a Crab larva like? 2. Give the names of four crustaceans. 3. Why does the Crab have to change its shell? 4. Why does it hide away at that time? 5. Of what use are Shore Crabs? 6. How are Lobsters caught? [Illustration: THE LOBSTER.] LESSON V. SHRIMPS, PRAWNS AND BARNACLES. In nearly every shore-pool you may see Shrimps and Prawns darting out of sight, and, for every one you see, there are many more hidden away. These delicate, transparent, lively creatures are not much like the boiled Shrimps and Prawns of the fish-shop. They are the prey of so many fish, crabs, and birds, that they have learnt to "make themselves scarce." Have you ever watched them in a glass tank, or aquarium? If so, you will know that it is not easy to see them. In the shore-pools it is harder still. Some are swaying about in the still, clear water, moving their long feelers from side to side. Others have burrowed into the sand. In doing this, they raise a sandy cloud, which settles on them and hides them. To catch some, you must use a "shrimp-net," for they can dart across the pool like arrows. [Illustration: THE SHRIMP.] Some are Shrimps, and some are Prawns; how can we tell the difference? When they are boiled the answer is easy. All the Shrimps turn brown and the Prawns red. (The red "Shrimps" are near relations of the Prawn.) To tell a live Shrimp from a Prawn, look at the long pointed beak which juts out from the front of the head. That of the Prawn is toothed, like a little saw. If the beak is quite smooth its wearer is a Shrimp. Until Prawns are grown up, they haunt the sandy shallows with their cousins the Shrimps. But the larger Prawns live in deeper water. They are generally caught in traps, as are their relatives, the crab and lobster. Now look closely at a Prawn, and try to find how it swims. Turn it upside down. It has ten legs; and, under each of the horny rings of its body, you can see a pair of little paddles. They are fringed with hairs. When the Prawn or Shrimp is not in a hurry, he swims slowly but surely with the little paddles, or "swimmerets." If any danger threatens, he uses his tail, in this way:--It is made of five fringed plates, which, as you can see, spread out or close up, like a fan. As he doubles up his body, the plates spread themselves out. They strike the water with great force, and so send the Prawn or Shrimp quickly _backwards_. As the body becomes straight again, the fan closes, ready for another stroke. To move quickly, the Shrimp or Prawn merely bends his body, then straightens it. The tail thus becomes a strong oar, driving him backwards with rapid jerks. Look now at the Prawn's long, hair-like feelers. There are two pairs. On one pair are the ears, a special kind of ear for hearing in water. You will notice that the Shrimp's eyes are on the end of short stalks. Each big eye is really a cluster of little eyes, rather like the "compound eyes" of insects. If you lift up the horny shield behind the head, you see a row of what look like curly feathers. These are the breathing gills. Shrimps carry their eggs about with them; no doubt you have often found masses of eggs under the Shrimp's body. Each egg is fastened by a kind of "glue," or else the rapid jerking of the mother Shrimp would soon loosen the eggs and set them free. The hard, shelly covering of the Shrimp and Prawn is like the armour of the crab--it will not stretch in the least. The body is easily bent, owing to the soft hinges between the hard rings. But the coat itself will not stretch. Then how do these little creatures grow? We see small Shrimps and large ones, so grow they must, in some way. They are of the same family--the _crustacea_--as the crab; and they grow in much the same way. The hard covering gets too tight for the body inside it. Then it splits across the back. After much wriggling, the Shrimp appears in a new soft skin. While the skin is still soft the Shrimp grows very quickly. Crustaceans have a funny way of growing, have they not? Instead of growing evenly, little by little, they grow by "fits and starts," a great deal in a few hours and then not at all. Besides being good food for us, and for the fish, Shrimps and Prawns have another use. They are scavengers. They pick to pieces and eat the vegetable and animal stuff which floats in the sea. Before it can decay and become poisonous, these useful creatures use it up as food. Great numbers of Shrimps and Prawns are caught for our markets. Some are caught by men who push a small net over the sands near shore, but most are caught by the _shrimp-trawl_, a large net cast from a small sailing vessel. The rocks, and the wooden piles of the pier, are often covered with the hard shells known as Barnacles, or Acorn Shells. If you slip on them with bare feet their sharp edges cut you. Each Acorn Shell is a little house. Have you ever caught a glimpse of the animal living inside? If you will look very carefully, you will see that the Acorn Shell is made of three-sided pieces, closely joined. There is a little door at the top, kept tightly closed until the tide comes up and covers the rocks. Then watch, and you will see a bunch of tiny feathers appear through a slit in the door. This means that the animal is hungry, and has put its twelve legs out of doors to catch a dinner! This is strange, but true! The Barnacle is always upside down in its home, and its twelve feathery legs are thrust out of the door at the top. They make a fine net, in which minute animals are caught and brought into the mouth below. This funny creature actually kicks its food into its mouth! If you own a magnifying glass, you can see this for yourself at the seaside. You will not be able to see the mouth, however, which is inside the shell. It is fitted with moving parts, and feelers, like the mouth of a crab. Also, the Barnacle has a good set of teeth to grind its food. It has no real eyes, having no use for them. Of what use are eyes to an animal standing on its head in a small dark shell! Now and then it casts its coat (like the Crab and Shrimp). The old coat is rolled up and thrown away outside the door. Now comes the strangest thing of all. As a baby, the Barnacle is a free swimming creature. It has three pairs of legs, a tail, a useful mouth, and one eye. After kicking about in the sea for some time, and changing its skin, it changes its shape entirely. It now looks more like a tiny mussel. It has two little "shells," two eyes, legs, and feelers. Now its swimming days are nearly over, and it must settle down. It gives up eating, and roves about looking and feeling for a place to settle on. Finding a suitable spot, the little animal stands on its head. Then a kind of glue is formed, which fixes it for life to that place, head down. The two shells and the two eyes are now thrown off. The Barnacle quickly builds up a shelly house, and, after a life of adventure and change, becomes a fixed Barnacle for the rest of its days. For many years people knew little of this strange animal. All its wonderful changes, and the way its body is made, tell us plainly that the Barnacle is actually first cousin to the Crab, Lobster, Shrimp and Prawn! It belongs to the class known as the _Crustacea_; but, for some reason or other, it has chosen to live its grown-up life fixed to a rock. EXERCISES 1. How does the Shrimp swim? 2. Of what use are Shrimps and Prawns in the sea? 3. How can you tell a live Shrimp from a live Prawn? 4. How does the Barnacle obtain its food? 5. Give the names of five crustaceans. LESSON VI. PLANTS OF THE SHORE. To pick a bunch of gay flowers you would look in the fields and hedge-rows, and not by the sea. Flowers, as you know, love moist soil, and not dry sand; and, like us, they prefer one food to another. Sand they do not like, and salt is a poison to them. Both of these are enemies to plant life. Also, flowers choose sheltered spots. They do not like rough winds, and the glare of the sun shrivels them up. Yet there are plants with pretty flowers to be found by the sea, and many others with small, dull flowers. These seaside plants have to fight for their lives. The dry, shifting sand, and the salt spray, are enough to kill them, you would think. They have no shelter from the strong sea wind, nor from the fierce glare of the summer sun. The puzzle is, how do they live among so many enemies? For you know that the flowers of the field would at once die if you planted them in salt and sand. They would starve to death. Even the strongest seaside plants shun that part of the beach washed by the waves. They leave that to the seaweeds. Let us look first at some plants which have their home on the sand-hills. Here is a fine one, like a thistle, with stiff prickly leaves, and a stiff blue stem. In August it has blue-grey flowers. This plant is called Sea Holly, its leaves being like those of the holly. It has an unpleasant smell, yet its roots are used for making some kinds of sweets. Now try to pull up a plant of Sea Holly. You find it no easy task. Then dig away the sand, and you see that its large roots have gone deep and far. All these plants of sandy places grow like that. Sand has no food or drink to give to plants. So they send their roots out, like plants in a desert, until they find what they want. Besides food and drink, they need a firm anchor in the loose sand. The Sea Holly, with its roots deep down and far-spreading, can hold its own, though the gale tears at it and throws its sandy bed here and there. We pass many small creeping plants as we walk in the dry sand. There is a pretty Sea Convolvulus, with its stems deeply buried. It is a cousin of the common Bindweed. Then we see many plants of Thyme, and a few ragged bushes of Gorse. We notice that several little plants grow near the Gorse, as if they had crept there for shelter. The sea breeze has blown the sand into heaps, and even on these dry, thirsty hillocks we see many tufts of grass. [Illustration: 1. THE COMMON LOBSTER. 2. HERMIT CRAB.] These Couch Grasses and Dune Grasses, as they are often called, are coarse and hard. Cattle pass them by in disgust. Yet they are the most useful plants on the shore. They can live and spread where other plants die. They have very long underground stems, which go through and through the dry, loose sand. The wind does its best to bury them in sand, but they send up hard, sharp buds, and go on living, and spreading. Bit by bit, the sand is held together by the matted stems of these grasses. It becomes firm, instead of loose; the wind can no longer blow it about. Then other plants can grow in that place. You know how men go out to the wild parts of the earth and, by hard work, make those places ready for others to settle there. Well, the sand-grass works like that. It prepares the way for useful plants to grow in places where they could not grow before. Quite near to the sea we shall find a very strange little plant. It has no leaves, only fleshy, jointed stems. It is known as the Glass-wort, being full of a substance useful in making glass. It belongs to a family which seems to delight in deserts and salty soil! They have all sorts of dodges to help them live in such places. For instance, their leaves are fleshy. Squeeze them, and they are like wet, juicy fruit. The Sea Beet is also a member of this family. The Red Beet, as well as the Mangel-wurzel, we owe to this humble seaside plant. Most of our sugar comes from the Sugar-beet. Another useful plant is the Sea Cabbage, which grows on some parts of our sea coast. It is rather a ragged, tough kind of Cabbage, and perhaps you would not choose it for your dinner-table. We have more tempting sorts in our gardens--Brussels Sprouts, Broccoli, Cauliflower, but long, long ago the wild seaside cabbage was the only one growing. Men found it to be eatable, and began to plant it near their huts or caves. From that small beginning all our garden cabbages have come. Walking a little farther from the sea, we leave the sand and come to stones, rocks and cliffs. We pass a pretty plant, the Sea Lavender, and another, the Sea Stock. They love best the sandy, muddy parts of the shore. Their lilac flowers look bright and pretty. Coming to the rocky places, we find tufts of the flower known as Sea Pink or Thrift. Its leaves are like grass, and its flowers form a round pink bundle at the top of a bare stalk. There are many tufts of Thrift growing among the rocks; and each tuft has a number of pink flowers. In some places you could step from one tuft to another for several miles. Bare and ugly stretches of coast are made into a gay garden by this lovely flower. Here and there on the rocks is a plant with large yellow blossoms--the Yellow Horned Poppy. It is a handsome plant, and you are surprised to see such fine flowers among dry shingle, sand, or rock; but the Horned Poppy is well able to stand the salt spray and storms of its favourite home. When the petals have dropped, a green seed-pod is left. It is very long--nearly twice as long as this page and looks much more like a stem than a seed-pod. Sometimes this seaside poppy is seen growing high up the face of the cliff, where only the jackdaw and sea-birds can find a footing; and many another plant may be seen there too. The cliffs are full of cracks, some tiny and some wide. In these places there is always a certain amount of dirt and grit. You could hardly call it "soil," and most plants would starve if you planted them in such a place. [Illustration: SEA LILY.] These plants of the rock and cliff are not so proud. They have very long and very thin roots, admirably suited to pierce the grit, and explore the cracks in the rock, to find the moisture they need. Besides this, they have fleshy leaves which help them to keep alive. The Stone-crop and the Penny-wort are well-known plants of this kind. They grow where you would least expect to find a living plant. Neither heat nor thirst seems to kill them. Mother Nature has found many a wonderful way of helping her children to live. EXERCISES 1. Why do plants which grow in sand have such long roots? 2. In what way are the grasses growing on the sand so useful? 3. Give the names of four flowering plants of the shore. 4. Where would you look for the Stone-crop and Penny-wort? 5. Why do these two plants have such thin roots? LESSON VII. FLOWER-LIKE ANIMALS. The prettiest of the creatures of the shore is the Sea Anemone. No one can see it without being reminded of a flower, an Aster or Daisy, with a thick stalk and many coloured petals; but, knowing how it is made, and how it lives, we place it in the Animal Kingdom, though among the lowliest members of that Kingdom. It is a cousin of that strange creature, the Jelly-fish, which we shall look at in another lesson. [Illustration: SEA ANEMONE.] When the tide falls, you can walk among the rocks and pools by the sea, and find Anemones in plenty. They are fixed to the rocks. Some are under the ledges, out of sight, others are low down, half buried in the wet sand; and others are on the sides of the rocks, looking like blobs of green, brown, or red jelly. Feel one of them. It is slimy, and rather firm, not so soft and yielding as the Jelly-fish. You cannot easily pull it from the rocks without harming it; but you will find other Anemones on stones and shells; and these you can put in a jar of sea-water, with some weed, and carry home to examine later on. When covered with sea-water the ugly blobs of jelly open out like beautiful flowers. In some places along our coast the floor of the sea is like a flower garden, gay with thousands of coloured Anemones. Those little "petals" are really _tentacles_, used for catching and holding food. We will use a shorter word and call them feelers. They are set in circles round the top of the Anemone, and there are many of them. The Daisy Anemone, for instance, has over seven hundred feelers. Each feeler can be moved from side to side, and can also be tucked away, out of sight and out of danger; but, when hungry, the animal spreads them widely, for, as we shall see, they are the net in which it catches its dinner. The whole body of the Anemone is like two bags, one hanging inside the other. The space between the two bags is filled with water. The feelers are hollow tubes which open out of this space; so they, too, are filled with water. [Illustration: CRUSTACEA. 1. THE LARVA OF A LEAF-BODIED CRUSTACEAN CALLED PHYLLOSOMA. 2. A PRAWN-LIKE CREATURE, SHOWING THE FRONT LIMBS THAT ARE USED FOR GRASPING PREY. 3. A CRAB. 4. THIS IS A SHRIMP-LIKE CREATURE CALLED CUMA SCORPIOIDES.] The Anemone can press the water into them, and so force them to open out. In rather the same way you can expand the fingers of a glove by forcing your breath into them. The Anemone, you see, can open or close just as it pleases. What does it eat, and how does it find food? Perhaps you have watched an open Anemone in a pool, or in a glass tank, and seen it at its meals. A small creature swims near, and touches one of the feelers. Instead of darting away, it appears to be held still; and then other feelers bend towards it and hold the victim. Then they are all drawn to the centre of the Anemone, carrying their prey with them; and the feelers, prey and all, are tucked out of sight. That is the way the Anemone obtains its food. As soon as the feelers get hold of a small animal they carry it to the opening of a tube in the centre. This is the mouth, leading to the stomach. Very often the feelers, with their victim, are tucked away into the stomach, and the feelers do not appear again for some time. Is not this a strange way of eating! Much stranger still is the way in which the food is held, and made so helpless that it cannot escape. On the skin of the Anemone there are many thousands of very tiny pockets, or cells. Each cell contains a fine thread with a poisoned barb at the tip, The thread is packed away in the cell, coiled up like the spring of a watch. As soon as anything presses against the cells they shoot out their threads. Thus the tips of many poisoned threads enter the skin of any soft animal which is unlucky enough to touch an Anemone. If your own skin is tender, these little stinging hairs will irritate it, but not enough to hurt you. It is different, however, with the small creatures of the sea. They are made quite helpless when caught by hundreds of these strange threads. We shall find similar poison-threads in the Jelly-fish; and these, in some cases, can cause us serious illness. You cannot see them without the aid of a microscope. All those parts of its food which the Anemone cannot digest, it throws out again. If you feed an Anemone on raw meat, it tucks the pieces into its mouth, and, some days after, throws out the hard part of the meat, having taken all the "goodness" from it. No doubt the Anemones themselves are eaten by other animals in the sea, but many kinds of fish will not touch them. You may remember that we noticed an Anemone which lived on the stolen home of the Hermit Crab. The crab lives in the whelk shell, and the Anemone lives on the roof, as it were. In nearly every ocean, all over the world, these two partners are found, using the same shell. It is thought that the Anemone lives there for two good reasons. First, the Hermit moves from place to place; you can see that this would give the Anemone a better chance of obtaining food. Also, bits of food float to the Anemone when the crab is picking his dinner to pieces. The crab seems to like having his strange partner with him. No doubt the Anemone is of some use to him, or he would at once pull it off. It is thought that the Anemone protects him from his enemies, the fish. Some of them would swallow the whelk shell, crab and all, but they would not eat one on which an Anemone was fixed. We are not _sure_ that these reasons are the right ones. All we know for certain is, that a crab and an Anemone have, for some good reasons, gone into partnership. Anemones have large families. Sometimes they have numbers of eggs; at other times their little ones come straight into the world as very tiny Anemones. A boy who kept a large Anemone in a tank of sea water, was astonished to find that in a short time, he had not one, but hundreds, of the creatures. The tiny Anemones were fixed to the glass and rock, all fishing for food with their little outspread tentacles. Sometimes the Anemone will calmly divide itself into two, each half becoming a perfect Anemone! Anemones are of many shapes, sizes, and colours. The loveliest of our British ones is the Plumose Anemone. It is like a carnation, and may grow to be six inches high--that is, nearly as long as this page. It is known by its shape, not by its colour. It may be any of these colours--brown, deep green, pale orange, flesh colour, cream, bright red, brick colour, lemon, or pure white. There are many other creatures in the sea which resemble plants and are often mistaken for them. The Sea Lily (p.49) is one of the flower-like animals; it is a relative of the Starfish, living in deep water. The Sea Mat (p.59) is often found on the shore. It seems like a horny kind of weed, but is really a colony of tiny animals, each one having its own little cell to live in. EXERCISES 1. How does the Anemone expand its "feelers"? 2. In what way does the Anemone catch the small animals on which it feeds? 3. Where is the mouth of the Anemone? 4. In what way might the Anemone be of use to its partner, the hermit crab? LESSON VIII. SEA-WEEDS AND SEA-GRASS We think of weeds as useless plants which insist on growing just where they are not wanted. So it is a pity that _Sea-weeds_ are so named, for the part they play in the sea is a useful one; and they are often beautiful, though they do not bear flowers like so many plants of the land. You see draggled heaps of them, lying on the shore where the waves have thrown them. They are best seen in their proper home, buoyed up by the water, and spreading out their broad coloured fronds, or long waving threads. There are, in many places, meadows of Sea-grass, and forests of Sea-weed! Mother Earth still has her carpet of green, even when covered by the salt water. The plants are very unlike those of the land, but, as you will see, they are of great use. We will suppose you put on a diving dress. Then you can walk out, under the water, and explore the forests of the sea. Down by the line of low tide, before you have waded up to your knees, you find plants clinging to the rocks. They cover them with a slippery coat of green; when you turn these Sea-weeds over you find periwinkles and other animals feeding or hiding. Sea-weed makes good "cover" for the creatures of the rock-pools, who have many enemies to fear. You notice that most of these shore weeds are green, sometimes as green as young grass. Pull up a bunch of the weed, and you find that it clings to the rocks and stones, but has no real roots. Seaweeds belong to a humble family in the world of plants, having no real roots, no flowers, and no real seeds. They can attach themselves to the stones or rocks. Along comes a great wave, and perhaps they are torn up; but this does not harm them, for they still live as they wash to and fro in the water, until they cling to another rock. Or they are thrown on the shore to die, or else to be washed back to sea by the next tide. [Illustration: SEA-WEED FROND.] The Sea Lettuce or Green Laver is a common seaweed near the shore. Its broad, crinkled and bright green leaves are rather like those of a lettuce. Sometimes it is boiled to a jelly and used for food. Many other sea-weeds are good to eat, and on some coasts there is a regular sea-weed harvest. Now wade into rather deeper water, and you find a great mass of the Bladder Wrack. Most schoolboys know it, for the little bladders of air in the leaves explode with a pop if you squeeze them. The Bladder Wrack, and others of the same kind, are torn up by the fierce waves in a storm, and tossed on the beach in heaps. They are gathered by the farmer who knows how to value a cheap manure for his fields. Some kinds are also of use in packing lobsters so that they come to market nice and fresh. When you have walked--in your diving dress--to deep water, you find yourself among a tangle of olive-green weeds. They are below the line of low tide. All round you is a forest of dark-green ribbons with wavy edges. The ribbons are tough and very long, and cling tightly to the rocks. These ribbon-weeds, and others of the same kind, are known as Tangles. Round some parts of our coast they make wide, thick beds in the sea. Though the ribbons may be six feet long, they are not so wide as the palm of your hand. Another sea plant, which grows in tufts in rather deep water, is called Irish Moss; it is green, brown or purple in colour. I do not know why it should be called Irish Moss, for it is not a moss, and it grows all round the English, as well as the Irish, sea-coast. But sea-weeds have strange names; indeed, many of them have no everyday names at all. Irish Moss is used for food, after being boiled to a jelly. It can also be made into a gum or glue, and has often been so used. Now, if you were to walk still farther on the bed of the sea, into deeper water, you would find the prettiest of all the sea plants. These are the pink and red sea-weeds. You also find them on the beach, but only after they have been torn from their home in the deep water. They grow on the rocks, in pretty coloured tufts. If you dive still farther, into the dark depths of the sea, you find beds of ooze and slime, and rocks and weird fishes, but no plants. Why is this? Like the land-plants, these sea-plants must have _light_. They cannot grow in the blackness of very deep water. Can you guess why some sea-weeds are green and others red? Those growing in the shallow water of the shore are green, like land-plants, because the sunlight reaches them. Only part of the light can pass through deep water; and so, in these shady places, the sea-weed is reddish in colour. [Illustration: SEA MAT.] We see, then, that (1) green sea-weed grows by the shore; (2) brownish-green sea-weed likes deeper water; (3) red sea-weed grows in deep water; and (4) in very deep water there is no weed at all. We must not forget the grass of the sea. It grows in narrow blades, often a yard in length, and as wide as your thumb. It is not a sea-weed, but a real flowering plant, which, for some reason or other, loves to grow under water. It creeps in the sand and mud, with green leaves growing up as thick as corn in a cornfield. All these waving green leaves make large meadows in the sea; and sea-snails, fishes, and crabs hide in it, just as all manner of living things hide in the grass of our meadows. The proper name of this strange plant is Sea Wrack. When dried, it is useful for packing up china, and covering flasks of oil. Now we come to the real use of sea plants. They are food for all the hosts of small animals of the sea. These eat it as it grows; or else, like the mussel and oyster, swallow the tiny scraps of it which float everywhere like so much dust. The shell-fish, and other animals which feed on sea plants, are themselves eaten by other sea creatures, and these in their turn are eaten by crabs, lobsters and fish, which are eaten by us. It reminds you of a chain. The first link in the chain is the sea plant, the last links are the fish and ourselves. So, you see, the weeds and grass of the ocean are of very great value indeed. EXERCISES 1. Give the names of three common Sea-weeds. 2. What is the colour of the weed found in deep water? 3. Why cannot Sea-weed grow in very deep water? 4. In what way are sea plants most useful? LESSON IX. THE JELLY-FISH. Or all the queer children of Nature which live in the sea, the Jelly-fish is one of the queerest. You often find it on the shore, especially after a severe storm. There it lies, a mass of helpless jelly, which slips and breaks through your fingers if you try to lift it. It cannot move back to its watery home, and in a short time the sun's warmth will have dried it up, leaving but a mark on the sand, and a few scraps of animal matter; for these strange creatures are little else but water. A Jelly-fish, which weighed two pounds when alive, would leave less than the tenth part of one ounce when dried! There is a story of a farmer who, on seeing thousands and thousands of Jelly-fish along the shore, thought he would make use of them. He decided that they would serve as manure for his fields, and so save him much money. He went home, and sent men with wagons to be loaded with the Jelly-fish. This was done, and the Jelly-fish were spread over the soil. On looking at his fields the next morning, the farmer was astonished to find that every scrap of his new manure had vanished as if by magic! [Illustration: WEST PAN SAND BUOY. ONE OF THE MANY BUOYS AT THE MOUTH OF THE THAMES.] In the sea the Jelly-fish looks like an umbrella of bluish-white jelly, from which hang tassels and threads. Look over the side of a boat, or from the pier, and you often see them drifting by, hundreds of them, like so many ghosts. Each one is moving along, with its edges partly opening and shutting. It is plain that this waving motion causes the creatures to move through the water. Also, they can rise to the surface, or fall to the depths, and do not collide with one another. So the Jelly-fish is not at all helpless. At night Jelly-fishes sometimes look very beautiful. Each one shines in the water, with a soft yet strong light, like fairy lamps afloat in the sea. They are of all sizes. Some you could put in a small wineglass, others measure nearly two feet across. Evidently the Jelly-fish grows, and, in order to live and grow, it must eat; but what does it eat, and how does it obtain its food? [Illustration: MEDUSA.] Before noticing the wonderful way in which this animal finds its dinner, let us look at its body. In any large Jelly-fish you can see marks which run from the centre of the body, and another mark round the edge of the "umbrella." These are really tubes. They all join with a hollow space inside the body, which is the creature's stomach. The mouth-tube opens under the body, as can be seen by turning the Jelly-fish on its back, and moving the lobes of jelly aside. All the food goes up this tube-mouth, and so into the stomach of the animal. The whole creature is little more than so many cells of sea-water, the walls of the cells being a very thin, transparent kind of skin. Perhaps the strangest thing about it is the way in which it catches prey. Jelly-fish feed on all kinds of tiny sea animals, such as baby fish, and the young of crabs, shrimps, and prawns. These small creatures form part of the usual dinner of many a hungry dweller in the sea, and the Jelly-fish takes a share of them. [Illustration: A MEDUSOID.] From the edge of the "umbrella" there hangs a fringe of long, delicate hairs, rather like spiders' threads. These are fishing lines, yet much more deadly. They trail through the water, stretching far from the main part of the Jelly-fish; and any small creature unlucky enough to touch them is doomed. Down each one of these threads there are minute cells, hundreds and hundreds to every thread; and in each cell there is a dart, coiled up like the spring of a watch. The tip of the dart is barbed like a fishhook. Now the cells are so made that they fly open when touched. The dart then leaps out and buries itself in the skin of the animal which touched the thread. Not only that, but the darts are poisoned, and soon kill the small creatures which they pierce. You see now how this innocent-looking Jelly-fish gets its food. As it swims along, the threads touch the tiny living things in the sea, the darts pierce them and poison them. Of course these stinging darts are very, very small, much too small for our eyes to see. Sometimes there are numbers of large brownish Jelly-fish in the sea, or washed up on the shore. If you are paddling or swimming, keep well away from them. Their poison darts are able to pierce through thin skin, and may cause you illness and great pain. Remember that the threads are very long; after you have passed the main body of the animal, you may still be in danger from the trailing threads. We noticed these same poison darts when we were dealing with the flower-like animals, the Anemones. Only, in that case, they were so fine, so small, that they had no power to harm us, even though they entered our skin. You may remember that we called the Anemone a cousin of the Jelly-fish, for they both belong to the same lowly division of the Animal Kingdom. Animals have queer ways of getting a living. Who would expect to find millions of poisoned darts in a Jelly-fish? Who would guess that these weapons are coiled up, ready to spring out at their prey? Men have made many weapons for killing, from the bow-and-arrow to the torpedo, but none of them is more wonderful than the weapon of the Jelly-fish. EXERCISES 1. Where is the mouth of the Jelly-fish placed? 2. How does the Jelly-fish move through the water? 3. What is the food of the Jelly-fish? 4. How does it obtain its food? [Illustration: SHELLS. 1. A FRESHWATER TURRET SHELL. 2. EDIBLE MUSSEL. 3. CONE SHELL. 4. SWORD-BLADE RAZOR-SHELL. 5. EAR SHELL, OR ORMER. 6. A TOP SHELL. 7. SCALLOP. 8. SWAN MUSSEL.] LESSON X. SHELLS AND THEIR BUILDERS (1). THE PERIWINKLE, WHELK AND LIMPET. Most of the shells which you find scattered over the shore are empty. The little animals which built them are gone; and their empty houses, of wonderful shapes and colours, are all that you find. Let us look at the builders of these pretty homes. The shell-builders have soft, juicy bodies, and they are put in one big division of the animal kingdom--the _mollusca_, which only means _soft-bodied_. Some of these molluscs do not build shells. But most of them build a shelly house for themselves; they do this to defend their soft bodies from the attacks of a host of enemies. Some build two shells--the Oyster and Mussel do, as you know. These are called _bi-valves_; that is, two valves or shells; and others, like the Garden Snail, the Limpet, and Periwinkle, have one shell only, and so are called _uni-valves_. The crab, and other _crustaceans_, also have a hard covering to their soft bodies; but it is not at all like the shell of a Snail, or other _mollusc_. The Snail's shell is like the little boy's suit which is altered and made bigger as the boy grows. The crab's covering is a suit which cannot be altered. It must be thrown away, and replaced by a larger one. The body of the shell-builder is wrapped in a soft covering, a kind of outer coat, which is called the _mantle_. Now this mantle is one of Nature's cleverest inventions. It is able to take the substance called _lime_ from the food of the animal, and to use it as building stuff. [Illustration: PRECIOUS WENTLETRAP.] The shell is built to fit the soft body. When a Periwinkle is hatched from the egg, it is as big as a pin's head. It eats and grows, and the shell must therefore be made larger. So the mantle is stretched out, and it puts a film of lime to the edge of the shell. Bit by bit the shell is thus added to by the wonderful mantle. Look at a snail's shell, and notice the lines which show how many times the little house has been made larger. Each kind of shell-builder has its own style of building. If you go to a museum and examine the shells gathered from all over the world, you are surprised at their wonderful shapes, markings and colours. Another surprising thing is their size. Some are enormous, so large that they make good washing-basins. Others are so small that you can hardly see them. Each one was made by the folds of the mantle of the animal that lived in it. In our coloured pictures you see many different kinds of shells, some of them built by uni-valve molluscs and some by bi-valve molluscs. Wherever there are weeds along the shore you can find whole armies of the Periwinkle--the "Winkle" we all know so well. It browses there, among the weeds, just as its cousin, the land Snail, browses on your cabbages. You must have seen the little door with which the Periwinkle closes the entrance to his house. The land Snail does not own a door, but he makes one when he goes to sleep for the winter. The Periwinkle crawls on a broad, slimy foot, which is put out from the shell. It is stretched on this side or that, and so draws him and his home in any direction. There are two sensitive feelers in front of his head; and behind these are two short stalks, on each of which is a tiny eye. If alarmed, the Periwinkle can shorten his body, and pull it back into its shell, closing the entrance with the horny door. But the strangest part of him is the tongue. It is not for tasting, but for rasping. It is like a long, narrow ribbon, on which are hundreds of tiny points, all sloping backwards. They are arranged three in a row. The Periwinkle rasps the seaweed with his tongue, and so scrapes off his dinner. Of course the teeth wear away. [Illustration: COWRIES.] But only part of the toothed ribbon is used at a time, so there are plenty of teeth behind the worn ones, ready to take their place. The shell, as we have seen, is made of _limestone_. But the teeth are made _of flint_. This is a hard substance, so hard that it is used for striking sparks. Now we will look at a shell-builder, the Whelk, who uses his flinty tongue in quite another fashion. The Whelk does not care for a vegetable dinner. He prefers to eat other molluscs--he is carnivorous, a flesh-eater; but these other molluscs do not wait to be eaten. As the enemy draws near they retire into their shells, and shut themselves up as tight as they can. The Whelk, however, is a clever burglar; he knows how to make a way into the hardest of shelly houses. His front part--we might call it a nose--will stretch out to a fine point; and it contains a rasping tongue even harder than that of the Periwinkle. He sets to work. Moving the rasp up and down, he drills a neat round hole in the shell of the animal he is attacking. No shell is safe from him; and no tool could make a neater hole. When you next gather shells on the beach, look at them closely; in some you will see where Mr. Whelk, the burglar, has been at work. He needs but a small entrance to enable him to suck out his helpless prey at his ease. Is it not strange that this creature, with a body as soft as your tongue, should earn its living by breaking into houses made of hard shell! There are other molluscs which find their meals in this strange manner, and many others which, like the Periwinkle, feed more easily on seaweed. One of these, the Limpet, you can always be sure of finding at low tide; indeed, there are so many Limpets on the rocks that it would be hard _not_ to see them. You will know, if you have tried to force a Limpet from its hold on the rock, how very tightly it clings. It is as if the shell were glued or cemented by its edges. Yet there is no glue or cement used, but only a simple dodge. The Limpet has a broad "foot," which almost fills up the opening of its shell. Like the foot of the Snail, it is used when the animal wishes to take a walk; but it serves another purpose too. It can be used as a sucker; and it is this which enables the Limpet to cling so firmly to its rock. When the tide is out, the Limpet clings to the rock, its soft body tucked safely away in the shell. Its feeding time comes when the water covers the rocks once more. Then the Limpet's shell may be seen to tilt up, and a foot, and a head with feelers and eyes, come out. The Limpet crawls to the seaweed and begins to browse, using a rasp like that of the Periwinkle. It then crawls back to its own place on the rock. In time this resting-place becomes hollowed out, and the Limpet's shell fits into the groove thus made. Limpets are useful as bait for fish. The Whelk and Periwinkle are gathered in immense numbers, and are used by us for food. Perhaps you have seen the egg-bundle of the Whelk. It contains many eggs when first laid in the sea. Each egg is as big as a pin's head. They swell in the water, until the yellowish bundle is three times as large as the Whelk that laid it. You often see the empty bundle blown by the wind along the shore. EXERCISES 1. Give the names of two bi-valve molluscs. 2. What is the Periwinkle's shell made of? 3. Describe how the Periwinkle eats seaweed. 4. How does the Whelk obtain its food? 5. Give the names of three one-shelled molluscs. LESSON XI. SHELLS AND THEIR BUILDERS (2) THE MUSSEL AND OYSTER. As everyone knows, the Mussel and the Oyster live between two hinged shells. In the last lesson we called them _bi-valve molluscs_, which is only another way of saying "soft-bodied animals with two shells." Have you ever opened an Oyster? It is a tug-of-war, your skill and strength against the muscles of the animal inside the tight shells. Like the Periwinkle and other shell-builders, these creatures owe their strong houses to a wonderful _mantle_; but in this case the mantle is in two pieces instead of one. You can imagine the Periwinkle's mantle as a tube enclosing the animal's body. The mantle of the Mussel or the Oyster is in two pieces; and each half forms its own shell. The Snail, and other one-shelled molluscs, poke their heads out of the shell when feeding or moving. Oysters and their two-shelled cousins cannot do this, for the simple reason that they have no heads! In some places you see that the rocks at low tide are covered with Mussels. In dense black masses they cling to the rocks; and, though heavy waves bang them like so many hammers, they stick tight. Little Mussels and big ones, they form a mass so thick that baby crabs and other creatures use them as a hiding-place. On the piers and groynes, and the woodwork of the harbour, you can see other clusters of Mussels; they are placed where the high tide covers them. Have you noticed how the Mussel anchors himself? He uses a bunch of threads, like so many cables or tiny ropes. It is interesting to know how these threads are made. The Mussel is, as a rule, a stay-at-home, but he can move from place to place if he likes. He has a long, slender foot which can be pushed out of the shells. Now the threads are fixed by the foot, just where the Mussel wishes to anchor himself. They are made from a liquid which forms in the body of the creature. This liquid hardens in the water so that it can be pulled out into long, fine threads. Our ordinary Mussels do not make very long threads, but those of some kinds are so long that they can be woven into silky purses or stockings. The Mussel which makes such long anchor-threads might be called "the silkworm of the sea." If the Mussel is such a stay-at-home, how does he find his food? The answer is, that the food comes to him, brought by the ever-moving water. There are countless specks floating in the sea, mostly specks of vegetable stuff. These settle on the floor of the sea, just as dust settles on our house-floors; and the waves wash this "sea-dust" hither and thither. The Mussel or Oyster, with shells gaping wide open, is bound to get some of this food with the water which enters the shells. The Oyster has no "foot," and is fixed in one place nearly all its life. It is an interesting animal; and one of such value as food, that hundreds of thousands of Oysters are reared in special "beds," and sent to the market at the proper season. Our British Oysters were famous even in the time of the Romans; they were carefully packed and sent to Rome, and, at the Roman feasts, surprising quantities of them were eaten. Many sea-animals have wonderfully large families, but the Oyster, with its millions and millions of eggs, beats most of them. Strangely enough, its eggs are not sent into the sea at once, but are kept between the Oyster's shells until they hatch. Needless to say, these babies are very small indeed, else their nursery could not contain them all Though so small that thousands of them together look more like a pinch of dust than anything else, yet each one has two thin shells; so that, if you eat the parent Oyster, they grate on your teeth like sand. Oysters, at this time, are "out of season"--that is, unfit for food. At the right moment, the Oyster gets rid of its numerous family. It opens its shells, then shuts them rapidly; and, each time this happens, a cloud of young Oysters is puffed out like smoke. Now these mites must fend for themselves in a sea full of foes. They have no defence, and countless numbers of them are gobbled up by crabs, anemones, and others. If this did not happen, the sea would soon be paved with Oysters. For a time, the baby Oysters--which are known as "spat"--are able to swim here and there. In rough weather they are driven far into the deeps of the ocean, and lost. The rest of them, before they have been free for two days, settle on the bed of the sea--sometimes on their own parents; and there they remain for life. Only a very few out of each million become "grown-ups"--the rest are eaten by enemies, or smothered in mud or sand. In a year or so they are as big as half-a-crown. In five years they are fine, fat grown-up Oysters--that is to say, if they have not been dredged up from their bed and sent to market. Their shells open and shut like a trap. You may have seen a picture of an inquisitive mouse trapped by an Oyster. Thinking to have a nice taste of Oyster, the mouse had poked its head into the open shells, but they were snapped together, and the mouse was firmly held in the trap. Between the hinge of the two shells there is a pad, which acts like an elastic spring, and forces the shells open. The Oyster can close them by means of a strong muscle. They are its only defence, so it closes them at the least hint of danger. Even these thick walls are sometimes of no avail, as we saw in our talk on "Five-fingered Jack." We saw how the starfish forces the shells open with the help of its strong tube-feet. The whelk and his cousins know how to bore a hole in the shell, and suck out the helpless Oyster. Then there are certain sponges, with the strange habit of making holes in shells, and living in and on them. Sometimes the Oysters are stifled in their "beds" by other Oysters settling and growing over them. Thick masses of Mussels may cling to them and suffocate them. And grains of sand sometimes get in the hinges of their shells, so that they cannot close up the house when they wish. Like the other animals which are useful as food, Oysters have been carefully studied and cultivated by man for many, many years. The story of the Oyster-beds is a long and interesting one. Oysters feed in rather a strange way. You may have looked inside the shells and seen two delicate dark-edged fringes, known as the "beard." This fringe is the Oyster's gills or breathing arrangement. Trace the "beard" as far as the hinge of the shells, and you see the mouth with its white lips. If you could watch the creature having its dinner, you would see a constant stream of water flowing over the gills and towards the mouth. What makes the water move in that way? The gills are covered with very tiny lashes, like little hairs. There are so many of them that, as they keep moving, they force the water along, over the gills and towards the mouth. In this way the Oyster breathes the air which is in the water; but not only that. As we have already noticed, there is a kind of "vegetable dust" in the sea. This is driven to the Oyster's mouth and swallowed. The Oyster, fixed in its "bed," unable to hunt for food, thus makes its dinner come to it. What a strange use for a "beard"! It not only serves as lungs, but also helps the animal to catch its "daily bread"! Another mollusc used as food is the Cockle, and its shell is one of the commonest found along the shore, especially near sandy places. It lives in sand, and can bury itself so quickly that you would have to use your spade with all your might in order to keep pace with this little shell-fish. Where Cockles have buried themselves you will see spurts of water and sand, showing where they are busy down below in the wet sand. Besides being so skilful at digging, the Cockle is a first-rate jumper. If left on the beach, it jumps over the sand, towards the sea, in the funniest way. It is strange to see a quiet-looking shell suddenly take to hopping and jumping like an acrobat. To perform this astonishing feat the Cockle makes use of its foot, which is worked by very strong muscles. It is large and pointed, and bent: if the Cockle wishes to move quickly, it stretches out its foot from between the shells, as far as it will go. Then, by using all its power, it leaps backwards or forwards in a surprising manner. There are many other interesting molluscs, besides those we have looked at. The Piddock, or Pholas, is a smallish, rather delicate one, with a soft foot. But this foot is a most wonderful boring tool, fitted with a hard file. Hard rocks and wood are perforated by these little molluscs. Indeed, they are a positive danger, for they pierce the wooden piles of piers, and weaken them. They cannot pierce through iron, however, and so iron plates or nails are used to protect the piles from their onslaughts. You will often see stones and rocks riddled by the Piddock as if they were as soft as cheese. Chalk, sandstone, or oak, it is all the same to the Piddock, which rasps them away with its file. When the points of this strange instrument are worn out with all this hard wear, a new set takes their place. EXERCISES 1. How does the Mussel anchor itself? 2. Describe how the shells of the Oyster are opened and closed. 3. What is the food of the Mussel? 4. Of what use is the "beard" of the Oyster? 5. Why is the Oyster called a bi-valve? 6. Why is the Oyster sometimes unfit for use as food? 
7460	----	[Illustration: "SAMMY".] HOW SAMMY WENT TO CORAL-LAND BY EMILY PARET ATWATER Author of "Tommy's Adventures," etc. _TO THE INHABITANTS OF THE "GREEN SHELL"_ _For much of the Natural History part of this little volume the author is indebted to M. C. Cooke's "Toilers of the Sea," and Dr. G. Hartwig's "Denizens of the Deep." She has thought it desirable to mingle some fiction with the facts, but trusts that the "Gentle Reader" will easily distinguish the one from the other._ CONTENTS HOW SAMMY WENT TO CORAL-LAND I. HOW SAMMY WENT OUT TO SEE THE WORLD II. HOW SAMMY ESCAPED FROM THE SHARK AND MADE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE HERMIT-CRAB III. THE STAR-FISH, THE UNSOCIABLE OYSTERS AND THE PILOT IV. ON TO CORAL-LAND V. IN CORAL-LAND List of Illustrations "SAMMY" HERMIT-CRAB HERMIT-CRAB IN SHELL CALLING CRAB STAR-FISH Meteor proved very friendly indeed HAMMERHEADED SHARK A Terribly Fierce Monster is the Hammerheaded Shark SWORD-FISH The Enemy the Pilot-Fish Dreaded Most of All REMORA The Remora Has a Wonderful Flat Apparatus on its Head TORPEDO-FISH One of the Pilot-Fish's Favorite Yarns was about the Torpedo-Fish SEA-DEVIL The Treacherous Sea-Devil and an Unwary Fish FLYING-FISH One of the School of Flying-Fish which Sammy Met GLOBE-FISH A Curious Inhabitant of Coral-Land PORCUPINE-FISH Another Curious Inhabitant of Coral-Land A COLONY OF SEA-ANEMONES A SCENE IN CORAL-LAND, SHOWING STAR-SHAPED FLOWERS OF CORAL, AND OCTOPUS SEA-SNAIL NAUTILUS COCKLE, SHOWING FOOT RAZOR-SHELL HOW SAMMY WENT TO CORAL-LAND "Well, children," said grandma, "which shall it be, fairy stories, stories about giants, or 'really truly,' stories?" They had been spending a month at the seashore, grandma, Bob and Eleanor. Little Bob had been very ill in the spring, and when hot weather came the doctor ordered sea air and sea bathing to bring back color to the pale cheeks, and strength to the thin little body. But Bob's father was a poor country parson and there seemed no way to fill the doctor's prescription. At this juncture grandma, like the charming fairy godmother that she was, appeared on the scene. She knew a quiet spot (one of the few still in existence), where there were no big hotels, no board-walks, and no merry-go-rounds. It was the very place where she wanted to go to get rid of her rheumatism; Bob and Eleanor should go with her, and their father and mother could follow later when the parson's vacation came. It took but a short time to carry out this delightful plan, and at the opening of my story the children had already been a week at the seashore. Such fun as they had been having bathing, digging in the sand, gathering shells and seaweed, or sitting quietly with grandma under the big umbrella, watching the waves break and roll up on the shore! And after supper there was always that pleasant half hour, on the little balcony overlooking the ocean, when grandma told her bedtime stories. They were all sitting there on this particular evening, grandma in her big rocking-chair, and Bob and Eleanor on their favorite cushions at her feet. The little folks had been begging for their usual treat, for grandma's stories were delightful, and her fund of knowledge (to the children), quite limitless. "I'm getting too old for fairy stories," said Eleanor, who was eleven and had advanced ideas. "Only real _little_ children believe in goblins and giants, and I'm in the third reader now." "I like 'em," said dreamy, nine-year old Bob, "fairies and giants can always do things that just ordinary people can't. Please do tell us some fairy stories, grandma." "No, true stories," insisted Eleanor. "How would it do to make a compromise?" suggested grandma. "You were asking me some questions yesterday about the shells, seaweed and all the fascinating things found on the shore. Suppose I tell you a story about all the wonderful creatures that live in the ocean? The part of it that tells how they live and grow, and get their food will be all true, and I think Eleanor will find it more marvelous than the make-believe part, which will tell about the adventures, and the conversations that our hero had with the strange creatures that he met with in his wanderings." This proposition was agreeable; the children settled themselves comfortably to listen, and grandma, with her eyes on a passing sail, began-- CHAPTER I HOW SAMMY WENT OUT TO SEE THE WORLD Once upon a time there lived in the depths of a deep, tranquil pool a young salmon, whom we will call "Sammy," for short. He was a very handsome fish, and decidedly vain of his good looks. His flesh was a beautiful pink, and the scales that form the armor, or coat-of-mail of most fishes, were particularly handsome on Sammy, and glittered with many colors in the sunlight. He had a very graceful shape besides, and his fins were the envy of all the young fish of his acquaintance. Almost all fishes have a great many fins, and although they differ sometimes in position and number according to the fish, the most important ones are the Dorsal fin, which stands straight up from the back, the Caudal fin, which is in the end of the tail, and the Pectoral fins, which are at the sides and take the place of feet in animals. These fins all help to make the fish the splendid swimmers that they are, and are large and strong, or small and weak, according to which part of the water the fish inhabits. If he prefers the surface of the ocean, or a large body of water, his fins must be large enough, and strong enough to battle against fierce waves, and strong tides, while the fish who lives far below where the water is more calm finds his weaker fins ample for his needs. The long, oval body which most fishes possess is another great help in gliding rapidly through the water. Like others of his kind Sammy had a very strong spine in which was an air-bladder. By pressing the air out of this he could swim easily at a great depth, and by inflating it to let the air in, like a balloon, he could rise and swim along the surface. Sammy's eyes were large and round, and he could see splendidly, especially when the water was clear. His hearing, as well as his sense of smell was also good, and he breathed through the gills on each side of his throat. When taken out of the water the fish really dies of suffocation, for the water that enters its throat and flows out through the gills is the air that keeps it alive. Sammy's maiden aunt, an old fish who lived in the same stream with him, used to tell strange tales of fish that can live several days out of water by reason of the different formation of their gills. One of these is a tropical fish called the Anabas. It has very strong Pectoral fins which it uses like feet when on land, and it will even climb trees to catch the insects which it eats. Another fish of this sort is the Frog-Fish, a hideous creature which is caught near Asia. It can crawl about a room, if shut up in one, and looks exactly like an ugly frog. But the most wonderful of all is a South American fish called the Hassar. It usually lives in pools of water inland, and if the pool where it is happens to dry up, it will travel a whole night over land in search of a new home. It is an experienced traveler, and is said to supply itself with water for its journey. If the Hassar finds all the pools and streams dried up, it will bury itself in the sand, and fall into a kind of stupor until the rainy season comes around and brings it back to life. "Aunt Sheen," so called from the beauty of her skin, used to tell Sammy another story about this famous fish. It seems that the Hassar builds a nest just like a bird, only hers is under water along the reeds and rushes of some shore. The nest is made of vegetable fibres, and is shaped like a hollow ball, flat at the top. From a hole in this ball the mother can pass in and out, and she watches over her nest with the most tender care, until the young ones leave it. Fishermen catch the Hassar by holding a basket in front of the nest and beating it with sticks. When the poor mother comes out to defend her family, she falls into the basket and is captured. "And serves her right, too," Aunt Sheen always concluded. "Building a nest and watching over it is a silly thing for a sensible fish to do. No one ever thinks of such behavior except some miserable little fish called Sticklebacks, and a few other inferior kinds. Why couldn't she leave her spawn in a quiet place somewhere near the shore, and then let them hatch out and look after themselves? That's the way I was brought up." Now, this speech may sound very unkind and even heartless, but leaving the young to look after themselves is the customary thing among fishes. And when you consider that one mother fish often has many hundreds of children, it is not to be wondered at that she finds it impossible to take care of such a very large family. The deep sea fishes come to the shore in the breeding season, deposit their eggs, or spawn, in some convenient spot, sometimes in the seaweed, or in vegetable matter, sometimes in the sand, on rocks, or in little, secluded pools, and then they bother themselves no more about their offspring. The salmon, and some other kinds of sea fish go up the rivers and streams inland to deposit their young. Salmon are very strong, and they can make tremendous leaps and shoot up rapids with great swiftness. Indeed, the salmon is one of the most rapid swimmers in the fish family, and it is said that one salmon could make a tour of the world in a few weeks. Sammy was very proud of his family, as well he might be, for his maiden aunt was always telling stories of their relations and connections. Aunt Sheen was a big fish, the oldest and largest, not only in her own pool, but in all the salmon stream. In her youth she had been a great traveler and seen many wonderful sights, and was regarded with awe and admiration by the younger fish. But she had grown fat and lazy with age, and was now content to spend the remainder of her days in this quiet stream which hid itself among the northern pines a good many miles from the sea. It was a pleasant place, with deep, still pools here and there in the shade, nice, slippery mossy rocks to hide under, and sunlit shallows where the water rippled over the white pebbles, or leaped musically down a tiny waterfall. Such merry times as Sammy and his companions had chasing each other up and down the stream, leaping the waterfall, jumping over the rocks, and playing hide-and-seek in the shallows. Then there was always the excitement of watching for the flies and different insects that hovered near, and which made delicious meals when caught. The young salmon used to boast of the flies they had captured, just as boys and men do of their luck in fishing. But our hero soon grew tired of this quiet life. It seemed very stupid and humdrum when compared with Aunt Sheen's marvelous tales of the great ocean, and the strange sights and thrilling adventures that there awaited the voyager. He was larger than his brothers and sisters, his sea-going instinct was strong within him, he longed for the wonders of the great, unknown world, and grew tired of Aunt Sheen's repeated warnings. This old fish always professed to be entirely uninterested in the doings of her youthful relatives. It was a matter of creed with her. But in spite of this fact she was very fussy over the young fish, and gave them a great deal of what Sammy considered tiresome advice. "There is safety in numbers," was her favorite saying. "When you want to go on a journey wait until your companions are ready, and go in a school. Dreadful things always happen to young fish if they start out by themselves, they get eaten by sharks, or caught by those awful two-legged monsters on land, and the devil-fish is always on the lookout for them." "But," Sammy would protest, "you have always said that some of the most terrible experiences you ever had came when you were with a lot of others. That time you were nearly speared going up the rapids you were in a school, and when you were caught in the net and it broke--" "It wouldn't have broken if there hadn't been a school of fish in it," interrupted his aunt, tartly. "That just proves what I say; the weight of so many made the hole, and so I escaped. "The only time when I came near getting caught was once when I was alone and got a hook in my gills. My! it was terrible! I ought to have known better, but I was very hungry that morning, and when I saw that beautiful fly hanging over the water--" But Sammy had heard this story many times before, and was tired of the conversation. "I don't want to wait any longer for these lazy brothers and sisters of mine to get ready," he said crossly. "Besides, if I did go in a school, _I_ might get speared, or caught so that the rest could get away, and that would not suit me a bit. I'd rather risk the flies." "You are an impertinent young fish," said Aunt Sheen, and she retired under her favorite rock in a rage. That night when everything was very still, and all the world seemed asleep, alone and unobserved Sammy swam quietly down stream and started alone on his wanderings. It was a lovely moonlight night, and only the faint sighing of the wind in the pine-trees broke the silence. On and on swam Sammy following the stream as it twisted and turned now in the shadow, now in the moonlight. Now it flowed along straight and smooth with scarcely a ripple, its banks sweet with dew-soaked wild flowers, and now it dashed against a huge rock which partly blocked its path, or glided swiftly over shallow rapids. All night long Sammy kept on his way, and all the time he felt that he was gradually going down, down, down, as the stream crept towards the sea. The next morning he found himself in a strange country. The little stream down which he had been traveling had become a river. There were houses here and there on the shores, cultivated fields and pasture-lands, and in some places cattle browsed on the banks, or stood knee-deep in the water. The strange sights and sounds filled Sammy with awe, and something like fear. He kept carefully in deep water and occasionally hid under a rock when he saw a big, strange fish approaching, for he knew that large fish often ate smaller ones. Once in a while he stopped to ask a question of some brother salmon as to the right way to go, but the answer was always, "Follow the river and you can't go wrong," and follow the river he did. When noon came he was fortunate enough to catch several fat flies, which made a delicious meal. Then he rested and dozed for a time in the shade of the bank, after which, feeling much refreshed, he started again on his journey. For a day or so he traveled on, stopping only for a little rest and food, and getting more and more eager and excited all the time as he neared his destination. Once the journey came near having an untimely ending for, unheeding Aunt Sheen's caution as to strange flies, he leaped eagerly at a particularly beautiful one poised over his head. Fortunately for our hero a strong puff of wind blew the fly aside at that moment, but not before the cruel hook which was concealed in it had grazed his tender mouth. A good deal scared by his adventure, and feeling much less self-confident, Sammy swam away, resolved to avoid all suspicious insects in the future. He had several other narrow escapes at this stage of his journey, but they are not important enough to mention here. But always as he journeyed on the river grew wider and wider, deeper and deeper. Strange dark shapes passed over his head, strange fish swam past him, the banks seemed very far away, and the currents were strong and hard to swim against. For quite a while there had been a new and delightfully salt taste and smell to the water, it became stronger and stronger as he went on; then there was a roar of breakers along the shores, and the swift tide swept Sammy away from the river's mouth, and out into the vast ocean. CHAPTER II HOW SAMMY ESCAPED FROM THE SHARK AND MADE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE HERMIT-CRAB Oh a wily old crab is the Hermit-Crab, And a crafty old crab is he! His home he makes in a stolen cell, And the passing stranger he loves full well But beware of his hospitality! For a hungry old crab is the Hermit-Crab, And a wicked old crab is he. "Dear me! what a very large place the sea is," said Sammy. He had gone quite a distance before he realized that the occasion for hurry was now over, and then he rose gracefully to the surface and looked about him. Overhead stretched the blue sky speckled with fleecy, white clouds, and off in the distance a long line of white sand showed the shore line, against which the incoming tide sent its undulating billows. Near the shore circled a flock of sea-gulls, and far away, where sea and sky seemed to meet, the white sails of a ship gleamed in the sun. In every other direction, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the blue waters of the ocean. Presently a large fish sprang from the waves, his silvery scales sparkling in the sun, then fell back with a gentle splash. This recalled Sammy to himself, and diving hastily below, he swam slowly about looking at his surroundings with a good deal of curiosity. It was a strange world on which he gazed. Water was everywhere, above, below, and on all sides, and strange weeds and vegetables grew up from hidden rocks. A graceful jelly-fish floated past, expanding and contracting its umbrella-shaped body, and waving about its long arms or tentacles. Queer fish of all shapes and sizes swam about, the larger ones eying the stranger curiously, the smaller keeping at a respectful distance. But Sammy had a very friendly feeling towards them all, and was just about to speak to a near-by fish, whose appearance seemed to indicate that he might belong to the Salmon family, when suddenly there was a general hurrying out of the way on all sides. Many of the fish dived quickly below to hide in some convenient spot, and the more rapid swimmers took to their fins with great haste. Turning quickly to see the cause of the commotion, Sammy discovered a large, and very hungry-looking shark just behind him. The creature had a hideous mouth, with several rows of sharp teeth, and while not dangerous to man, this Dog-Fish, or Blue Shark, has a great liking for young and tender fish. This fact our hero instantly divined, and sped away as fast as his fins could carry him, Mr. Shark in hot pursuit. Sammy had the advantage of being some distance from his enemy when discovered, but sharks are extremely swift swimmers, and for a time it seemed as if poor Sammy's fate was sealed. No matter how hard he swam the monster slowly gained on him. No race with his playfellows in the stream at home was ever so exciting as this. All the famous swimming qualities of his family were put to the test now, as he darted like an arrow through the water, the cruel shark close behind. But presently Sammy began to tire. In another moment all would have been over, had he not spied far below him, partly hidden by seaweed, a ledge of large rocks. His instinct told him that under one of those he might find a hiding place. Down he darted, as quick as a flash, and in another instant just as the shark turned on his side and opened his huge jaws, Sammy lay safe, but quivering, in a friendly hollow under the sheltering rocks. Mr. Shark, disappointed at losing his dinner, swam around and around the ledge vainly trying to find some way of squeezing his big body in among the crevices of the rocks, but at length abandoned the attempt as hopeless, and departed in a very bad humor to look for another victim. It was some time before Sammy recovered enough from his fright to look about him, but presently his ever-present curiosity overcame other feelings, and he began to examine his new quarters with much interest. He was in a tiny cave, whose hard bottom was covered with sand and mud deposited by the constant washing of the tide. From the walls and ceiling hung curious weeds, and a few brightly colored shells lay in little holes and crevices formed in the rock. While thus employed in viewing his surroundings Sammy discovered a crab partly hidden in the mud on the floor of the cave. It was a very strange-looking creature, for while the fore part of it had legs and claws like an ordinary crab, the rear part was concealed in the shell of a large sea-snail. [Illustration: HERMIT CRAB.] As Sammy gazed the crab slowly crept out from the mud, still keeping a watchful eye on the intruder. "Fine day," said Sammy, pleasantly. "Charming," replied the Crab. "Water's a little cool, though," said Sammy. "It's very comfortable in here," said the Crab, "and the tide is very favorable this morning; it brought me in some fine fat snails for breakfast. By the way, have you had breakfast?" And as he spoke he again retreated into the mud. "Oh, yes, indeed!" replied Sammy, politely, "I had a good meal some time ago before the shark got after me." And, forthwith, he gave a thrilling account of his adventure, adding something to it after the manner of storytellers, and throwing in a description of his past life and present ambition. To all of which the Crab listened with most flattering interest. "Remarkable," he murmured. "You have no idea how delightful it is for a poor Hermit like me to hear something of the outside world. I lead such a retired life that it is a real pleasure to entertain a stranger in my humble abode. This little cave is mine by the right of possession, and in it I live, far from the whirl of society, and being secluded in my habits, and somewhat bashful, I always retire into the mud when strangers appear. Occasionally when crabs, (little ones), sea-snails, and small shell-fish wander in in search of apartments I consent to have a short conference with them, but it is a rare thing for me to speak to a fish as large as yourself." "I am highly honored," said our hero. "But tell me, how do you happen to have that large shell on your back?" "That," replied the Crab, proudly, "is the former home of a Sea-Snail, now alas! no more. You see my name of the Hermit-Crab comes from my liking to conceal my tail, which is long and soft, with two or three hooks on it, in the empty shell of some sea animal, snail, or the like. Unlike the ordinary crabs, our branch of the family all possess these tails. Our only hope of prolonging our existence is to protect this weak tail, so as soon as we are born we crawl into some empty shell, and holding on with the hooks, are thus fairly well protected from attacks in the rear. We can carry the shell about with us, and in time, as we grow bigger, it becomes necessary to find a larger one. The shell in which I now live once belonged to a big snail. It was just the right size for my needs, and, there being no other way out of the difficulty, I was compelled to eat him up in order to get possession of his home. It was a wrong act, the impulse of a moment, and I assure you that I have always deeply regretted the cruel deed," and the Hermit paused to sigh deeply. [Illustration: HERMIT CRAB IN SHELL.] Now Sammy had very small faith in the repentance of the Hermit. In fact he had a suspicion that he was a bloodthirsty old hypocrite, and that those unwary strangers who had come to look for apartments in the past, had never returned alive. This was an uncomfortable thought, so he kept a sharp eye on the Hermit, while he listened to the long description the other gave him of the habits and customs of his family. Our hero was soon to learn that bragging about one's ancestors and connections was not a weakness confined alone to Aunt Sheen, for many other fish possessed it, and this seems strange when they openly declared that they sometimes devoured their younger and weaker relations. The Hermit-Crab belonged to a large family called the Crustaceans. All kinds of crabs, lobsters, as well as shrimps, barnacles, sea-acorns, etc., are members of this family, though all belong to different branches of it. The lobster is first cousin to the crab, though somewhat larger, yet the two resemble each other very closely. The crab has four pairs of legs, as well as a large pair of claws. He is a rapid swimmer, though his sidewise motion gives him a very awkward appearance. And, although a great eater, it hardly seems likely that Mr. Crab ever suffers from indigestion, since nature has given him eight jaws, and a large stomach furnished with teeth. He has also a heart, and liver. The crab, in common with the lobster, possesses one very convenient peculiarity. He can cast off a claw if it is hurt in any way, and he sometimes throws one or two away if he is frightened by thunder, for he is a great coward in a thunder-storm. But, no matter in what way the claw is lost, Mr. Crab can grow another one, although it will not be as large, or as strong as the first one. The claws of a crab are his weapons, and terrible ones they are, too. With them he defends himself against his enemies, and with them he attacks his prey and tears it to pieces. His bill of fare is composed of some kinds of fish and lower water animals; and it is said that some crabs feed on sharks and whales. In return fishes, sea-stars, sea-urchins and some shell-fish eat the young crustaceans, and even attack the larger ones. In the sand of the seashore the mother crab, or lobster, lays her eggs, and there she leaves them to be hatched by the sun. Several thousand eggs are laid at a time, but as many of the water animals feed on the eggs and young, of course all the members of this large family do not come to mature crabhood. Lobsters like best to live along rocky shores, where the water is clear and deep, and there they are caught in small wicker baskets, or nets. As for the crab, he loves to hide in the mud, and he can live longer than the lobster when taken out of the water, by reason of the different formation of his gills. The Hermit-Crab seemed particularly proud of some of his relations who live on land, and told Sammy marvelous tales of their strange habits. Some of these land-crabs will suffocate if dipped in the water. They live in the shades of the deep forest, often a long way from the sea, but come to the seashore at certain seasons to lay their eggs in the sand. When once they have started on their march to the sea nothing can turn them aside from the path in which they are traveling. Another cousin of the Hermit lives in the East and West Indies. It is called the "Calling Crab," because it has a very large claw which it holds above its head when running, and this gives it the appearance of beckoning to some one. This Calling Crab makes its home in holes, or burrows on land. [Illustration: CALLING CRAB.] Still another land relation is the East India Cocoa-Nut Crab, which lives upon the cocoanuts that fall from the trees. With its large, heavy claws it tears the husk from the cocoanut, and makes a hole in the nut, and takes out the meat. These crabs also make their homes in deep burrows, which they line with the husks and fibres from the cocoanuts. Though a land crab the Cocoa-Nut cousin is fond of the sea, and takes a bath in it every night. These crabs grow to a very large size. Crabs, and all crustaceans multiply enormously, and are of all sizes from very tiny ones to one respectable Japan crab which covers twenty-five feet of ground. In the tropics they grow very large, and are of many different varieties. Some crabs live in fresh water rivers and streams, some of the lower forms of the family in the extreme North, and others in dark, under-ground caves. Like almost all of the crustaceans, the crabs and lobsters cast their shells every year. Besides indulging in this habit himself, the Hermit-Crab had once witnessed the toilet of a large lobster, and he gave Sammy a graphic description of the operation. It seems that some days before it was time for him to get his new suit, Mr. Lobster retired to a quiet place, gave up all society, and fasted rigorously. Of course this severe treatment soon caused him to lose flesh; he became thinner and thinner and the shell grew looser and looser. After awhile he grew restless. Evidently his peace of mind and body was much disturbed, for he rolled about, scratched himself, and crawled here and there as if distracted. Soon after this his shell split clear up the back, and then such a wriggling, and tugging and squirming as there was until finally the whole outside shell of the lobster, legs, claws, and everything else was forced through the narrow slit in his back! When the old shell was gotten off it looked exactly like the living lobster; and as for Mr. Lobster himself, lo! he was clothed in a bran new suit of clothes. But although undoubtedly proud of his fine apparel, he was too cautious to show it off as yet. He knew full well that his new shell was very soft and tender, and that his enemies liked him best in this condition, and that, alas! even his own family would not hesitate, if they discovered him, to have a feast at his expense. So, knowing his danger, and being pretty well tired after his struggle with his toilet, Mr. Lobster prudently retired from the gaze of the outside world, until his new shell hardened. But, when that was accomplished and he sallied forth, courageous and very hungry, you may be sure that an unhappy fate awaited the weak and tender member of fishland that fell in his path! Surely the life of a fish must be far from monotonous, since he has always the excitement of hunting his own meals, and keeping out of the way of others of his kind who are hunting for him! Still, nervous prostration is quite unknown in that big water-world, and so it is to be inferred that the fishes live only for the pleasures of the day, and do not worry over the possible unpleasant things of the morrow. "Which," said grandma, as she folded up her sewing, "is often a very good principle to go on. So, children, off to bed with you, and another evening we will learn how Sammy met the Pilot." CHAPTER III THE STAR-FISH, THE UNSOCIABLE OYSTERS AND THE PILOT It is not to be wondered at that our hero should feel a good deal of distrust concerning his host. To be sure the Hermit had declared that he never preyed upon fish as large as Sammy, since they invariably disagreed with him, and he was very polite and affable to his guest. But there was a certain suggestiveness about some of his remarks that was unpleasant, and his furtive, watchful gaze made Sammy nervous. The wicked old Hermit's mouth was really watering for this innocent, fresh-water fish, and he was only awaiting a favorable opportunity to seize him with his cruel claws. Fortunately for Sammy his instinct told him that the crab was a dangerous companion. So he soon found an excuse to leave the cave on an exploring expedition, greatly to the Hermit's regret. Sammy's experience with the shark was still fresh in his mind, and for a time he kept close to the ledge ready for a dash to safety should danger again threaten. It was a most interesting place to explore, this ledge. There were big rocks and little rocks, flat rocks, rocks hidden by mud and sand, and sharp, jutting rocks full of peril to ships at low tide. In one or two places near the ledge the ocean was so very deep that Sammy never ventured to explore its depths, while from another point he could clearly see the sand at the bottom of the sea, and loved to descend and swim lazily about examining the shell-fish, sea-snails and other curious creatures that made their home there. The long ledge had many inhabitants and Sammy was soon on very good terms with a couple of jolly sea-urchins, whose round, prickly bodies were half hidden in the little holes which they had bored in the rock. The sea-urchins made him acquainted with some relations of theirs, a family of star-fish living on a flat shelf of rock near by. The star-fishes proved very agreeable companions, being both polite and pretty. They had lovely orange colored backs, out of which protruded their five arms, or rays, giving them the star-like appearance from which they get their name. Under these rays were rows of tiny feelers, or suckers which they used as feet. With these a star-fish can crawl about, or even turn himself over if he wishes to, and if he is disturbed or frightened these little feelers shrink up and conceal themselves in tiny holes in the rays. Some star-fishes have the power of breaking off their rays, and, like the crab and lobster, can grow new ones to take their place. They have many beautiful relations in the star-fish family, one of the loveliest being the Brittle-star, so called because it will break in pieces when touched. Another relative is the Sun-star, which has twelve or fifteen rays, and often grows to a very large size. Its color is sometimes purple, sometimes red, with white rays tipped with red; truly a gorgeous creature, and no doubt very vain of his wonderful beauty! All star-fishes have mouths and stomachs, which they put to good use, being exceedingly fond of oysters, and such like, which they suck out of their shells when opportunity offers. One of this particular Star-Fish family, Meteor by name, proved very friendly indeed to Sammy, and through him our hero learned of a fine Oyster Colony which had established itself on a mud bank not very far distant. [Illustration: STAR-FISH. Meteor proved very friendly indeed.] Now Sammy was naturally of an inquisitive disposition, and an Oyster Colony being something new he was anxious to visit it. Meteor was also eager to pay a call, not so much from curiosity, as in the hope of extracting a fat bivalve from his shell for dinner. So one fine day off the two started, Sammy swimming slowly to keep up with his companion, and presently they came in sight of the Colony. It was a large mud bank literally covered with oysters. Some were half hidden, others piled one upon another, and still others in little groups apart. Such a quantity as there were, and such queer-looking, dirty things, with their rough shells hinged at the back! Every mouth was wide open, eagerly sucking in the tiny water animals and plants on which the oyster feeds. They paid but small attention to Sammy, but as soon as Meteor came in sight, shell after shell quickly closed, and the whole Colony immediately became to all appearances, a deaf, dumb and blind asylum. Not a sign betrayed that they were living creatures, and the disgust of the two adventurers may well be imagined. In vain did Sammy ask questions, and put forth his best conversational powers; in vain did the Star-Fish attempt to conceal his identity by hiding in the mud, the cautious oysters were not to be fooled, and finally, much put out, the two companions were obliged to retire unsatisfied. "It's all my fault," grumbled the Star-Fish, as they moved slowly away. "I should have had sense enough to creep along in a less conspicuous manner. You see so many different kinds of sea-folks, crabs, sea-snails, etc., as well as our own family feed on the oysters that it makes them very timid, and they close their shells at the least sign of danger. And, of course, once the shells are shut the sharpest and most experienced claw is of no use. It is much easier to hunt oysters before the shell hardens, though it is not considered as much sport." "Are oysters' shells ever soft?" inquired Sammy in great surprise. "Oh, yes, indeed!" said Meteor, in a very superior tone. "Why I supposed that every fish in the sea knew that, but I forget, you are from the fresh water. "The young oysters are hatched in the shell of the mother in the form of eggs. She keeps them for awhile, but presently sets them free, and although they are very tiny, they have eyes to see with, and can swim about. The oysters have large families, and I knew of one Lady Oyster who had two million young ones, but of course, only a few lived to grow up, since they are greatly prized as food by all fish, and delicious meals they make too, as I can tell you from experience. "But about the young oysters: Well they are driven about by the currents and tides, and finally attach themselves to some object, like a rock, or hide in the sand and mud, and there they take up housekeeping for life, for, once their shell hardens, they cannot move. "They are stupid creatures as compared with superior fish, like you and me for instance; but of course, since they have no head proper, they cannot be expected to use their brains. An Oyster has a large heart, however, as well as eyes, mouth, lips and liver, and he breathes through little tiny things like leaflets on each side of his body. I have heard that the oysters in the Indian Ocean contain very beautiful and costly pearls, as well as those in the Pacific, and other seas, and a good many common oysters have pearls in them too. "They say that the two-legged land race value the oyster on account of the pearls, and that they are very fond of it as an article of food: and indeed I've been told that this horrible race of land creatures will devour or make use of in some way, almost anything that comes out of the water. How glad I am that I live in the sea, instead of on shore! "However, as I was saying, the oysters have lots of enemies, and they make few friends outside of their own family, and no wonder when you consider how very stuck-up they are." "They are certainly very unsociable," agreed Sammy. "Still it has been nice to learn as much about them as you have been able to tell me, and I am greatly obliged to you." "Don't mention it," returned the Star-Fish, affably. "I make it my business to know the manner of life and habits of the creatures I live upon, and a good deal about those I have to avoid, and it will give me great pleasure to give you any information in my power. And above all things beware of that old hypocrite the Hermit-Crab, and all his family." This friendly advice proved of great benefit to Sammy during his stay at the ledge, and indeed, all through his life in the ocean. As he acquired a greater knowledge of the ways of the sea he lost much of his timidity, though none of that caution that is the safeguard of every wise fish. Each day as he took longer trips about the ledge, he made new discoveries and new acquaintances, and though these were all interesting, yet he longed to leave the ledge entirely and journey to Coral-Land. Of this wonderful, faraway country he had heard marvelous tales from Aunt Sheen, although she herself had never seen it. Ever since his smallest fishhood Sammy had longed to see with his own eyes the glories of this delightful place, where the coral grew, sea-flowers bloomed, and hundreds of lovely fish swam about in the calm, blue water. But it was a long distance, and he knew that many dangers awaited the inexperienced traveler. So, although he never abandoned his intention of visiting the spot which he had come so far to see, he wisely decided to wait until some fish more versed in the ways of the sea than himself, should be going in his direction. To this end, guided by the advice of Meteor, he accosted several fish who might prove desirable companions, but for a time with no success. The Herring was unwilling to leave the school which he was going to join; the Cod was bound for Newfoundland with his family, and feared that a warmer climate would not agree with the children. A short conversation with a Mackerel proved more satisfactory. Mr. Mackerel was in a great hurry, for having heard that a school of herring had gone on ahead, he anticipated a good meal, and was anxious to be off. "This is my busy day," he said impatiently in answer to Sammy's question. "No, I am not going to Coral-Land, it's too far south for me at this reason. But if you will wait here awhile you may see a cousin of mine who might act as guide. He is a Pilot-Fish and is out of a job at present. You will know him by the three dark blue bands about his body. Now, I really must say good-day," and away he swam in a tremendous hurry. For some time longer Sammy lingered near examining the different fish that passed, but none with three bands about his body was to be seen. At length a large fish of a silver color appeared, and as he swam leisurely nearer Sammy saw that the stranger was indeed marked with three dark blue bands. Surely this must be the Pilot, and as such he addressed him. "Yes, that is my name," replied the Pilot, who had a very shrewd fish-of-the-sea expression; "and so Cousin Mack. told you I was out of a job, did he? Well so I am, but I was intending to take a rest before going to work again. However, I would be willing to take charge of you this trip as a special favor. "Oh, yes! I've been to Coral-Land a great many times, and know all the regular inhabitants as well as the ordinary visitors. But as this is your first trip, and as it is always more trouble to pilot an inexperienced fish, I think I will have to make a little extra charge. My terms are usually one-half of all the feed, but in your case I think I should have to ask a little more, say three-quarters. Is that satisfactory?" "Perfectly," replied Sammy, delighted to make any arrangement, although he had a suspicion that the sly Pilot was taking advantage of his greenness. "Very well then," said the Pilot, "I will take you to Coral-Land on those terms, and will guarantee to protect you as far as possible, from all danger. I am well known as an excellent guide, the White Shark will testify as to my ability in that line. But don't get frightened," he added, as Sammy began to shiver at the mention of the Shark's name. "I forgot that you are not on as good terms with the sharks as I am. However I am not on speaking acquaintance with them at present, and since I know their habits, will promise to keep you well out of their way. "And now suppose we look about for a bite for supper, talking always makes me very hungry, then to-morrow I will meet you at the ledge, and we can start fresh on our journey." CHAPTER IV ON TO CORAL-LAND For him who goes a-traveling Upon the stormy sea, A tried and trusty pilot Is the safest company. "And did the Pilot really take good care of Sammy?" asked Bob, anxiously, as he and Eleanor took their places on the little balcony with grandma, and eagerly awaited the continuation of the ocean story. "I don't believe he did," said his sister positively. "I just know that old Pilot was a hypocrite like the Hermit-Crab and ate up poor Sammy the first chance he got." "Time will show," said the old lady as she snipped her silk with her silver scissors. "It is a very bad plan to read the last chapter of a book first." As for the Pilot, he had his weaknesses and faults like all people and all fish, and what they were we will find out as we go along. * * * * * Bright and early the next morning Sammy bade farewell to his friends at the ledge, and in company with his guide started forth on his long journey to Coral-Land. All the Star-Fishes and Sea-Urchins assembled to see him off, and wish him a safe and prosperous voyage. Even the Hermit peered cautiously out from his cave, and waved an adieu with one claw. But his crafty eyes had a wistful expression as though he said to himself, "My what a fool I was to let that fellow escape!" "Speaking of sharks," remarked the Pilot, as he and his companion glided easily through the water, "many unjust things have been said about me because I am sometimes seen with the White Shark. They say a fish is always known by the company he keeps, but I think it is very unfair to judge me in that way, particularly as I never stayed with the shark because I liked him. I knew him for a heartless and ferocious monster who would attack anything that came in his way, and I was a good deal afraid of him. I only went with him as a matter of convenience to myself. But it was commonly supposed that I accompanied him as a guide in order to show him the best feeding places, and tell him what dangers to avoid, and that was how I got my name of the Pilot-Fish. But the real reason was that I got better food when in company with the White Shark than any other way. "Our usual plan was to follow some ship, which we often did for weeks, or months at a time, for a great deal of nice fish food is always thrown overboard from vessels; and as the White Shark only cared for the big pieces, all the tender little morsels fell to my lot. I lived well in those days, but I had to give up the job after awhile, the nervous strain was too great. "You see the White Shark that I was with then was a very big fellow, (fully thirty feet long), and just as strong and ugly as he was big. Once, down in the tropics where he usually lives, I saw him break a man's leg with one stroke of his tail. His temper was awful, and he would stop at nothing when angry. He had enormous jaws, with six rows of flat teeth, and to see him turn on his side, and open those jaws was enough to give you cold chills for a week. "The good food that we got from our ship usually kept the White Shark in a fairly good humor, but, knowing him as I did, I was well aware that if the food should happen to run short, he would not hesitate to make a meal off of me; and although I am an excellent swimmer, and stood a good chance of being able to escape (else I should have never been there at all), still there was always a possibility of something unpleasant happening, and it got to be rather wearing. "So, one day when we were following a particularly promising vessel, I made an excuse to stay behind, while the White Shark went on alone, and when he and the ship were both out of sight, I took the opportunity to escape. Since then I have carefully avoided the society of all sharks, but what I have learned about them and their ways has been of great benefit to me, and will be a help to us now, since they prefer the warm waters of the tropics, and that is where we are bound. However, you may trust me to keep as far out of their course as possible. "We will need to keep a sharp lookout for the Blue Shark, whom you have already had the pleasure of meeting, and we may catch a glimpse of the Hammer-headed Shark, a terribly fierce monster with a head shaped like a hammer. [Illustration: HAMMERHEADED SHARK A Terribly Fierce Monster is the Hammerheaded Shark] "But the enemy that I dread most of all is the Sword-Fish, so named from the long sword-shaped snout on his upper jaw. This sword is very strong, and so sharp that it will easily pierce a boat. The White Shark is bad enough, but the Sword-Fish is even worse. His aim is unerring, and his disposition so fierce that he will attack anything that comes in his path, large or small. I saw one once that measured twenty feet, but that was from a safe distance, for I make it a rule to give them all a wide berth. [Illustration: SWORD-FISH The Enemy the Pilot-Fish Dreaded Most of All] "Then there is the Saw-Fish, whose long snout has teeth on both sides like a saw, and his company is not desirable either. "Fortunately for us the Sea-Wolf prefers the northern ocean, and fortunate it is for the northern fish that he is a slow swimmer, else the next census would show a decided decrease in the fish family. The Sea-Wolf has a tremendous appetite, and his huge jaws, armed each with six rows of teeth, can easily crush the toughest shell-fish, of which food he is very fond. They are often to be seen over seven feet long, and being desperate fighters they are almost as much dreaded as the Sword-Fish." With these, and many other stories of the fish world the Pilot beguiled the tedium of the journey. He told about the famous Sucking-Fish, or Remora, which has a wonderful flat apparatus on its head by which it sticks to any object, fish, rock, or ship to which it attaches itself, and once fixed it is impossible to make it loose its hold. The natives in Africa use this fish to catch turtles with. They tie a long, stout string to the Remora, and throw the fish overboard. When the Remora finds a turtle it presses its head tightly against it, sticks fast, and both are hauled up together Sometimes the Remora will lift a turtle weighing many pounds. [Illustration: REMORA The Remora Has a Wonderful Flat Apparatus on its Head] Another of the Pilot's favorite yarns was about the Torpedo-Fish which makes its home in the Mediterranean Sea, and which possesses powerful electric batteries with which it paralyzes its prey. [Illustration: TORPEDO-FISH One of the Pilot-Fish's Favorite Yarns Was About the Torpedo-Fish] Altogether the Pilot was a most interesting companion, his knowledge of the sea was both useful and entertaining, and the sharp outlook that he kept more than once saved them from unsuspected danger. To this watchfulness Sammy owed his escape from the Sea-Devil. This treacherous creature makes its home in the mud, which it stirs up in order the better to conceal itself. While thus hidden, it waves about in the cloudy water two long, slender feelers, which to an unwary fish look like some tempting article of food. Feeling decidedly hungry Sammy was darting towards this apparently delicious meal, when the Pilot interfered and explained the nature of the bait which was meant to attract him within reach of the Angler hidden in the mud. [Illustration: SEA-DEVIL The Treacherous Sea-Devil and an Unwary Fish] Truth to tell our hero often went hungry during his somewhat lengthy journey, for, in spite of his other most admirable qualities, the Pilot-Fish was very greedy. Few indeed were the morsels that fell to poor Sammy's share when his guide had finished his meals, and the young salmon had occasion more than once to wish that he had driven a sharper bargain. But, although he was growing thin, he comforted himself with the reflection that they were quickly nearing the promised land, where the Pilot assured him delicious food of all kinds abounded. For now the water was growing warmer, more and more brilliant were the fish and ocean plants, and strange and beautiful rocks, like fairy castles rose up from the bed of the ocean. One morning they saw a strange sight. Away off in the distance the surface of the water was dark with some large moving substance. "It is a school of Flying-Fish," said the Pilot. "Wait here and you will see them leap." As he spoke the vast body sprang into the air, and the sun gleamed brightly on beautiful blue bodies, and silver wings, as the fishes sailed off in different directions. It was a wonderful sight, but lasted only for a moment, then splash, splash, one after another fell back into the water, while the sea-gulls circling near seemed to utter a scream of derision. Again and again, by hundreds at a time, the beautiful fish leaped and sailed, only to fall back as before. [Illustration: FLYING-FISH One of the School of Flying-Fish Which Sammy Met] "They cannot really fly, you know," explained the Pilot, "for they are not able to raise themselves in the air after their first leap, and can only sail for a few feet on a level. And those things that look like wings are simply very large Pectoral fins, which can support them for awhile in the air. And a very silly practice the whole thing is too. Those fish would be a great deal better off if they only kept to their own element, and stayed pretty well under water. As it is they are in constant danger, for the sea-gulls are always watching for them above, and the Bonito beneath. And that reminds me that it would be safer for us to dive below, for the Bonito is always to be met following the Flying-Fish, and he is not particular, (being always hungry) as to what kind of fish he dines on. His usual plan is to follow the Flying-Fish, keeping near the surface, and when the fish he has picked out drops, the Bonito has his reward. He is a clever fish, and being a rapid swimmer, is fond of following vessels, like myself. The presence of the Flying-Fish proves that we are nearing our destination, and after a few more miles our journey will be over." This was a cheering thought, and the two companions swam gaily along in the best of spirits. Sammy would have liked to stop occasionally to examine some particularly interesting object, but his guide hurried him on. "For," said he, "this is by far the most dangerous part of our voyage. The most vicious of our enemies lurk outside of Coral-Land waiting for a chance to grab the tourist, but, once inside that long reef that you see some distance ahead, and we are safe. I have a special entrance known to myself alone, and no very large fish, or shark can get through it. I only hope that we can reach it without being seen." But it was a vain hope. No sooner were the words uttered, than some instinct caused the Pilot to glance hastily behind him, and there, well in the rear to be sure, but moving towards them with uncomfortable swiftness, were two large, dark moving bodies. "Sharks!" cried Sammy in terror. "Sword-Fish!" said the more experienced Pilot. "Follow me and swim for your life!" Away he darted, heading in a straight line for the high reef, away darted Sammy after him, and on came the murderous Sword-Fish. Faster and faster swam the pursued, and faster and faster the pursuers. On they came, nearer, nearer and still nearer, their huge shapes and cruel swords suggesting a fearful death. Sammy's strength was almost gone, his fins were growing weaker, and he swam more and more slowly, while the mouth of the monster nearest him watered in eager anticipation. But the dauntless Pilot still kept on his course, and showed no sign of weakening. Straight at the large reef, now very near, he dashed, and then, just as destruction seemed certain, he swerved to the right and disappeared from view in a mass of weeds that grew out from the rock. With one last desperate effort Sammy followed, the weeds closed behind him, and passing quickly through a small hole in the reef, he lay, quivering, exhausted, but safe on the other side. Furious at their disappointment the Sword Fishes rushed at the reef, striking it again and again with their sharp swords in a vain attempt to pierce, or batter down the rock. Then they swam wildly about looking for an entrance large enough for them to pass through, but none was to be found, for the high, circular reef shut in the lagoon where the two refugees lay, like a wall. At length, tired out with their exertions, the two Sword-Fish gave up the chase, and being in a very ill-temper, and having no one else to vent it on, they began to quarrel with each other. "It's all your fault anyway," snarled Slasher, the biggest and crossest fish. "How often have I told you to take my advice in these matters! We should have kept further under water, as I suggested in the first place, then we would not have been seen so soon. I've no patience with your stupidity!" "Stupid yourself!" snapped his brother Jabber. "You know as well as I do that it is much the best plan to keep on a straight line with the prey we are hunting. We can't half see if we are far above or below. If you hadn't splashed so loudly with your tail--" "I didn't splash with my tail," retorted Slasher angrily. "You did," insisted Jabber. "I say I didn't!" "I say you did!" * * * * * "Well, well," said grandma, as she paused to gather up her fancy work, "everybody knows that a family quarrel is the worst kind of quarrel. But in this case the dispute had a speedy ending, for the two brothers fiercely attacked each other, and right there and then they fought a terrible duel, which only ended with the death of both combatants, for each died pierced through the body with his brother's sword. "So perished the two dreaded sentinels of Coral-Land, and Sammy was at his journey's end." CHAPTER V IN CORAL-LAND Oh! do you know Where the sea-flowers blow, Down deep in the ocean's bed? Where the shy plants hide 'Neath the swelling tide, And the Anemone lifts its head? Where the Nautilus frail, To set his sail, Creeps forth from the silver sand? Then come with me, And you will see The wonders of Coral-Land. "So this is Coral-Land!" exclaimed Sammy, wonderingly. "What a beautiful place it is!" He and his companion had soon recovered from the fright caused by their recent unpleasant experience, and now, filled with a comforting sense of tranquillity, they swam leisurely along in the placid water. The dangers and privations of the journey were over, they had made an excellent meal on some delicious tidbits found among the weeds, and nothing now remained but to enjoy to the full the delights of their new home. It was truly a charming place, being in reality a good sized lagoon, or lake, shut off from the outside world by the protecting coral-reefs which encircled it like a large ring. There are many such lagoons, and this one, called by the fish-world, "Coral-Land," because of the beautiful coral within its depths, was only one of many coral-lands, for coral-islands, and coral-reefs are found everywhere in tropical seas. Sometimes these coral-reefs are found near the shores of large islands, or continents, and then they are called Shore-Reefs. There are also Barrier-Reefs, usually enclosing an island in the deep sea, and Lagoon Islands or Atolls, which enclose a lagoon, or lake, such as the one where Sammy now was. Near the centre of this Lagoon arose another ring of coral-reef, like a small circle within a larger circle, and in the centre of the second little lake so formed, was a tiny coral-island, dotted here and there with gay flowers, and waving palm-trees. Outside the reefs the white-topped breakers thundered on unceasingly, but the calm waters of the Lagoon were undisturbed by their fury. Far above and below towered the magnificent rocks, forming so complete a barricade that sharks and very large fish found it difficult to gain an entrance to the Lagoon, and could never penetrate to the inner lake, where the inhabitants of Coral-Land sometimes took refuge. As for the smaller fish, the reefs were punctured with innumerable little passages and caverns through which they could easily gain access to the outside ocean, if they wished, but most of them preferred the quiet and security of the Lagoon. Many had been born there and knew no other life, and many, like the Sun-Fish had grown so fat with good living that it would have been almost impossible for them to squeeze through the largest opening. In fact the Lagoon was like a large aquarium of curious and beautiful fish. Floating lazily along was a round, prickly Globe-Fish, and close behind him drifted a cross looking Porcupine-Fish, an odd, countrified sort of creature, with his gaping mouth, the sharp spines on his ugly body raised in preparation for a possible attack from the strangers. Away off among the distant rocks some dazzling Gold-Fish chased each other merrily hither and thither; a brilliant blue fish darted out from a near-by thicket, and a company of scarlet fish swam past, making a beautiful picture, with the clear, blue waters of the Lagoon as a setting. [Illustration: GLOBE FISH A Curious Inhabitant of Coral-Land] [Illustration: PORCUPINE FISH Another Curious Inhabitant of Coral-Land] Far down below myriads of gorgeous shells lay scattered about on the white sand like gay figures in a carpet, every color showing plainly through the wonderfully transparent water. Here a tree of coral rose up from the depths, its branches covered with lovely star-shaped flowers; farther below a bed of shrubbery sprang from hidden rocks, and close at hand a colony of beautiful Sea-Anemones lifted their proud heads, and swayed gracefully in the water. Some of these flowers were shaped like chrysanthemums with rows of fringed petals, some were shorter and stouter, like dahlias, and all formed a mass of brilliant color, pink, purple, orange, blood-red, and sea-blue, striped with pink. Never had Sammy seen such a sight as this bed of Anemones, and, struck with admiration, he stopped to examine them more closely. But the experienced Pilot warned him to be careful. "They look very fine," said he, "but they are not to be trusted." You know, of course, that the Sea-Anemones, like almost all flowers and plants which grow in the ocean, are living animals, polyps, we call them. The Anemones are polyps, and the coral big and little, living and dead is being made, or has been made by polyps. "You see that bed of pink flowers over there, and those green rushes, and those fern-like plants? Well, they are all living polyps, or colonies of polyps, some kinds of which leave coral when they die, like the coral polyps proper. "As for the Anemones; those innocent looking flowers really possess powerful weapons in the shape of tiny lassos, which are concealed in lasso-cells. These lasso-cells, which are very small, are carefully hidden in the walls of those petal-like tentacles, or feelers of the Anemone. Still other lasso-cells are hidden in the mouth of the Anemone, and inside its stomach. In the cells the long, slender, thread-like lassos lie coiled up ready for use. The lassos escape from the cells by turning themselves inside out with lightning-like swiftness, and woe to the crab, or small water animal that comes in contact with this lovely flower! It is immediately pierced by the lassos, and poisoned by the deadly fluid hidden in the cells. Even big fish have been known to die in great agony when touched by the Sea-Anemone. "The Anemone frequently swallows a whole crab (if it is a good size itself) and is particularly fond of gulping down its food in this manner, keeping it for awhile in its stomach to squeeze out the juice; after which what is left is thrown out through its mouth. "All Anemones have mouths and stomachs, and some have rows of eyes like a necklace around the body. The mouth is a small opening in the centre of the disk, or head of the Anemone, and this leads into the stomach below. "Sometimes the Anemone uses the tentacles around the disk to help feed itself, and it also uses the mouth, lips and disk for the same purpose. When the Anemone is at rest it expands its disk and draws in the sea water, and when it is disturbed it contracts, and throws out the water from its mouth. The Anemones are very sensitive to touch, and will shrink up like a sensitive plant. They are of all sizes too; that little blue one over there is only about one-eighth of an inch, and that big purple fellow stands over a foot from its base. [Illustration: A COLONY OF SEA ANEMONES] "You see that the body of the Anemone is shaped like a column, the flat head, or disk, being at the top, with rows of tentacles, like petals, fringing the edge. The bottom of the Anemone is also flat, and with this flat base it holds fast to the rocks to which it attaches itself. The Sea-Anemones are able to move about from rock to rock, and in that they differ from their first cousins, the Coral Polyps, for they are always stationary. "The Anemone has several curious ways of reproducing itself. Sometimes one animal will divide itself and become two individuals, and sometimes pieces from the bottom of the Anemone will become separate Anemones. Another strange way is by throwing out the young through the mouth, and it doesn't seem to make much difference whether they come out in the shape of eggs, or whether they are fully formed, as is frequently the case. "Still another process of reproduction is by budding. A small lump appears on the parent Anemone; this keeps on growing and growing until it soon has a mouth, disk and tentacles like the mother; after which it separates, and starts out in life for itself. Whole colonies of Anemones are formed in this way. "But come," said the Pilot. "Here we have spent all this time talking about the Anemones, and the coral is far more interesting and beautiful. Suppose we take a look at this large tree," he went on in his most school-master manner. "See how lovely it is with its trunk and branches covered with little star-shaped flowers! Those flowers are the polyps, and they, or rather their ancestors, made the tree. You know that the most important of the coral polyps live in groups, or colonies. They usually reproduce themselves by budding in very much the same way as do the Anemones, but the Coral Polyp does not separate from the parent when it gets its growth; it stays fastened to the mother, and soon imitates her example by producing a bud which becomes a coral flower. And so it goes on until there is a whole colony of animals, each one having a separate mouth and stomach for his support, and yet continuing as a part of the family. "I told you that the Anemones and Coral Polyps were first cousins, and so they are, for almost the only difference between them is that the Anemones have no coral in their make-up. Then too, the Coral Polyps cannot move about like the Anemones, and they are somewhat different in appearance, being more like lovely daisies, or stars, than chrysanthemums. "The coral is made from the lime of which the water of the ocean contains a large quantity, and is hidden in the sides and lower part of the polyp, there being none in the stomach and disk. When the polyp dies the fleshy part decays, and the coral, which is the skeleton of the polyp, is left. It is very hard, being composed of carbonate of lime, and will last for ages. The inside of this tree that we are looking at is all dead coral, or corallum, while the flowers that are on the outside of the trunk and branches are the living animals. "Some kinds of coral polyps bud and extend in different directions, and that accounts for the many wonderful shapes in which coral grows. Some species divide in two, like the Anemones, but the majority live in families, or colonies. There are coral reefs and coral trees, domes and balls of coral, graceful vases, and all sorts and kinds of different plants and odd growths. "You know that living coral cannot exist above the surface of the ocean, for exposure to the sun and air kills the polyps; yet it is always growing upward and outward, the living animals making their homes upon the tombs of their ancestors, so to speak, until they in their turn perish and add their skeletons to the growing structure. "The most wonderful of all coral is that found in the coral reefs, which are so old that the most ancient fish in all fishdom, or his great-grandfather before him, could not tell when they were begun; and so hard and enduring that the storms of centuries have never been able to destroy them. But strong as they are, the mighty ocean, (both friend and foe to the coral), is still stronger, and in time the constant washing and beating of the tides wear away portions of the hard rock, changes the formation of the reefs, and helps in a large measure in the making of the lovely coral islands. But still the coral goes on growing, the living polyps protecting the dead coral below and beneath, and then dying to make way for the next generation. And so the coral holds its own in spite of the fury of the sea, and the many little boring water animals that strive to penetrate the dead coral, and crumble the rock into ruins. But the coral has its friends, as well as enemies, and the most useful of the first are various weeds and plants which grow on the reefs, and beside protecting the upper parts from exposure, help in their formation by leaving a kind of coral behind them when they die. [Illustration: A SCENE IN CORAL-LAND, SHOWING STAR-SHAPED FLOWERS OF CORAL, AND OCTOPUS] "If you will look about you," went on the Pilot, "you will see what beautiful colors some of the coral has. See that big piece over there like a large red toadstool, and this curious vase all covered on the outside with tiny polyps like purple stars! You will find it in many lovely colors, and still more fantastic shapes. I have heard that some varieties of pink and red coral are very highly valued for jewelry by the two-legged land race." In this manner the learned Pilot discoursed to his pupil, being only too glad to have an excuse for showing off his superior knowledge; and Sammy drank it all in, having in mind the time when he should return to his far-away home and brag of his adventures to the simple fresh-water fish. Beside acting as guide, and explaining to his companion the mysteries of Coral-Land, the Pilot kindly introduced Sammy to some of his acquaintances and friends. One of these was a very large odd-looking Sun-Fish, a curious creature, all head and no body. This fish, being very haughty in his manners, and exclusive in his tastes, was considered very aristocratic: and having spent the greater part of his life in the Lagoon, was acknowledged as the great social leader of Coral-Land. The Sun-Fish presented Sammy to the Trunk-Fish, (so named from his curious shape), and the Trunk-Fish in turn introduced him to the Globe-Fish and the Porcupine-Fish, and they made him acquainted with the family of scarlet fish, and some handsome gold-fish. Two of the gold-fish, called respectively Gay and Gilt, were particularly friendly to Sammy, who soon found them much more entertaining than the worthy, but somewhat prosy Pilot. So, as the days went on, our hero spent more and more of his time in the company of his new friends, while the Pilot was content, now that his duty was done, to gossip with the Sun-Fish, or betake himself to some particularly good feeding ground of which he knew. Coral-Land abounded in quantities of good things such as fishes love, and Sammy soon grew fat, for Gay and Gilt were much less greedy than the Pilot, and always shared their meals evenly with their friend. It did not take him long to learn what to enjoy and what to avoid, both in the way of food and acquaintances, and he found it a most useful form of knowledge. Thus he learned to beware of the graceful jelly-fishes who were constantly to be met floating about, their long tentacles streaming behind, and their umbrella-shaped disks expanding and contracting as they swam, for he knew that the Jelly-Fish was a cousin of the Sea-Anemone, and that its tentacles could sting most unpleasantly. So he admired them from a distance, and very beautiful they were, especially at night, when their gleaming phosphorescent bodies lighted up the darkness of the sleeping Lagoon. Sammy learned that the affectionate embrace of the many-armed Octopus was not to be desired; and that a thicket of seaweed is a good hiding-place from a chance enemy, and is apt to contain many delicious tidbits in the way of fish food. He knew the manners and habits of the many brilliant-hued fish who live in Coral-Land; and he knew that the floor of the Lagoon had as many curious and beautiful inhabitants as its waters. There the Star-Fish sprawled on the sand, the Sea-Cucumber crawled along, expanding and contracting its worm-like body; there the Sea-Urchin hid himself in the rock, and shells large and small, pink, blue, red and all the colors of the rainbow lay scattered about on the sand and rocks. All these shells had, of course, their living inhabitants, for a shell is always the home of some water animal, and when the owner dies the shell is left as a monument, and very beautiful monuments most of them are. The Sea-Snail, the Cockle, the Razor-shell and many others have each a good-sized foot which helps them in crawling along, or in boring holes for themselves in the rocks. [Illustration: a. SEA SNAIL b. NAUTILUS c. COCKLE, SHOWING FOOT d. RAZOR SHELL] Sammy had taken some pains to become acquainted with the Nautilus and his family, whose beautiful little boats he had often seen sailing gaily along on the surface of the Lagoon, especially after a storm when the water was calm. The Nautilus has a beautiful spiral mother-of-pearl shell, and when on a voyage it uses part of its body as a sail, and the long tentacles about its mouth help it in swimming. It spends a good deal of its time on the bottom of the ocean near the coral reefs, and can creep along very quickly, supporting itself with its head and tentacles. The head is flat and muscular and acts as a defense to the opening of the shell, and the Nautilus also possesses very strong jaws which it makes good use of in crushing crabs and other shell-fish on which it feeds. Sammy found it rather difficult at first to come to a friendly understanding with the Nautilus, for the gallant little mariner was somewhat shy of strangers, and would frequently show his distrust by suddenly drawing in his tentacles, upsetting his shell, and dropping to the bottom of the Lagoon, thus effectually cutting short any conversation. But this was only his way of protecting himself; after a time he grew bolder, and being a true sailor spun many a wonderful yarn about his voyages. To the Nautilus Sammy was indebted for a most important piece of information. It happened in this wise. He had now spent several weeks in Coral-Land. He knew the Lagoon thoroughly from end to end, the best feeding and hiding-places, the delightful caverns and caves in the reefs, and was on friendly terms with almost all its inhabitants. But a fish is a restless creature, and, strange to say, Sammy was daily growing more and more weary of this peaceful Lagoon. It was all very wonderful to be sure, the beautiful coral in its lovely colors and fantastic shapes, the gay flowers and plants, the strange shells, and the brilliant, sparkling fish; but then the warm water _was_ certainly enervating, and the mountain stream that he called home had many charms, now that he was no longer there. The Pilot-Fish had long since departed for other scenes, and Sammy wished that he had consented to accompany him. Now it was too late, and the only thing to do was to wait and hope for some way of beating a retreat. Not caring to confide his weakness to his two friends, who would not understand it, he kept his secret to himself, longing more and more for that quiet mountain stream so very far away. One fine day as Sammy was swimming sadly along, and alone, near the outer reef of the Lagoon, his friend, the Nautilus approached him in great excitement. "I've seen such a strange sight," he exclaimed eagerly, sailing close up to the salmon in his haste. "This morning I thought I would have a little adventure, for it's very tiresome spending so much time in the Lagoon, so I found my way, through a passage known only to myself, out to the ocean, and such fun as I had sailing up and down! To be sure I had to keep a pretty sharp outlook, for it is a dangerous place out there. However, nothing of any consequence happened, and I was beginning to feel a little disappointed, when suddenly, only a short distance away, I saw a school of large, pink fish, very much like you in appearance, and all swimming north. Never before in all my experience have I known a school of fish of that kind in our neighborhood! It will be the talk of Coral-Land for a week. Excuse me, but I really must go and tell my family," and abruptly upsetting his shell the Nautilus disappeared at once from view. For a moment Sammy hesitated. Gay and Gilt, with his other friends, were far away. Should he try to find them and say good-bye? No, it would take too much time, and they would be sure to protest against his going, and then the school would be out of sight. One swift glance about him, and away he dashed; another moment and he was at the reef, a passageway out was found, and darting through the breakers, he rose to the surface and looked forth once more on the broad ocean. Behind him lay all the wonders and beauties of Coral-Land, and there, far away towards the north, a mass of moving fish darkened the surface of the water. Could he reach them before they disappeared, or before some hideous monster saw and intercepted his flight? Away he darted, faster, faster, and still faster. Now the school was getting larger, he was surely gaining; still nearer, and he could see the sun gleam on countless scales; nearer still, one final effort, and the school of salmon opened to receive him, and then swept on northward and homeward. * * * * * There was a pause. Grandma dropped her work, and leaning idly back in her rocking-chair, gazed dreamily out over the ocean, sparkling in its sunset glory. "Is that all?" inquired Eleanor. "Didn't Sammy really get home?" "That is all," said grandma. "What became of our hero after he joined the school of salmon I never knew. In all likelihood he never left his companions. But whether he guided them to the pleasant waters of that mountain stream, or whether they took him with them to some lake or inland river, I cannot tell." As for Gay and Gilt, they long mourned the mysterious disappearance of their playfellow, and often now when the sun shines brightly on the blue waters of the Lagoon, when the Nautilus sails forth on his voyage, and the sea-flowers sway and nod in their deep beds, the two gold-fish swim sadly about amid the depths of Coral-Land and tell stories to the passing stranger of the merry young salmon who came from the north, so long ago. THE END. 
35490	----	SEASIDE STUDIES IN NATURAL HISTORY. BY ELIZABETH C. AGASSIZ AND ALEXANDER AGASSIZ. MARINE ANIMALS OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY. RADIATES. [Illustration] BOSTON: JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY, LATE TICKNOR & FIELDS, AND FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO. 1871. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by A L E X A N D E R A G A S S I Z, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, AND COMPANY, CAMBRIDGE. THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHORS TO PROFESSOR L. AGASSIZ, WHOSE PRINCIPLES OF CLASSIFICATION HAVE BEEN THE MAIN GUIDE IN ITS PREPARATION. * * * * * PREFACE. This volume is published with the hope of supplying a want often expressed for some seaside book of a popular character, describing the marine animals common to our shores. There are many English books of this kind; but they relate chiefly to the animals of Great Britain, and can only have a general bearing on those of our own coast, which are for the most part specifically different from their European relatives. While keeping this object in view, an attempt has also been made to present the facts in such a connection, with reference to principles of science and to classification, as will give it in some sort the character of a manual of Natural History, in the hope of making it useful not only to the general reader, but also to teachers and to persons desirous of obtaining a more intimate knowledge of the subjects discussed in it. With this purpose, although nearly all the illustrations are taken from among the most common inhabitants of our bay, a few have been added from other localities in order to fill out this little sketch of Radiates, and render it, as far as is possible within such limits, a complete picture of the type. A few words of explanation are necessary with reference to the joint authorship of the book. The drawings and the investigations, where they are not referred to other observers, have been made by MR. A. AGASSIZ, the illustrations having been taken, with very few exceptions, from nature, in order to represent the animals, as far as possible, in their natural attitudes; and the text has been written by MRS. L. AGASSIZ, with the assistance of MR. A. AGASSIZ's notes and explanations. CAMBRIDGE, May, 1865. * * * * * NOTE. This second edition is a mere reprint of the first. A few mistakes accidentally overlooked have been corrected; an explanation of the abbreviations of the names of writers used after the scientific names has been added, as well as a list of the wood-cuts. The changes which have taken place in the opinions of scientific men with regard to the distribution of animal life in the ocean have been duly noticed in their appropriate place, but no attempt has been made to incorporate more important additions which the progress of our knowledge of Radiates may require hereafter. CAMBRIDGE, January, 1871. * * * * * CONTENTS. PAGE ON RADIATES IN GENERAL 1 GENERAL SKETCH OF THE POLYPS 5 ACTINOIDS 7 MADREPORIANS 16 HALCYONOIDS 19 GENERAL SKETCH OF ACALEPHS 21 CTENOPHORÆ 26 EMBRYOLOGY OF CTENOPHORÆ 34 DISCOPHORÆ 37 HYDROIDS 49 MODE OF CATCHING JELLY-FISHES 85 ECHINODERMS 91 HOLOTHURIANS 95 ECHINOIDS 101 STAR-FISHES 108 OPHIURANS 115 CRINOIDS 120 EMBRYOLOGY OF ECHINODERMS 123 DISTRIBUTION OF LIFE IN THE OCEAN 141 SYSTEMATIC TABLE 152 INDEX 154 LIST OF THE WOOD-CUTS. Unless otherwise specified, the illustrations are drawn from nature by ALEX. AGASSIZ. FIG. PAGE 1. Transverse section of an Actinia (Agassiz) 5 2, 3, 4. Actinia in different degrees of expansion (Agassiz) 8 5. METRIDIUM MARGINATUM fully expanded 8 6. Vertical section of an Actinia 10 7. View from above of an expanded Actinia 11 8, 9. Young Actiniæ 11 10. RHODACTINIA DAVISII 13 11. ARACHNACTIS BRACHIOLATA 14 12. Young Arachnactis 14 13. Young Arachnactis showing the mouth 14 14. BICIDIUM PARASITICUM 15 15. HALCAMPA ALBIDA 16 16. Colony of ASTRANGIA DANÆ 17 17. Magnified individuals of Astrangia 17 18. Single individual of Astrangia 18 19. Lasso-cell of Astrangia 18 20. Limestone pit of Astrangia 19 21. Single individual of HALCYONIUM CARNEUM 19 22. Halcyonium community 20 23. Expanded individual of Halcyonium 20 24. Branch of MILLEPORA ALCICORNIS (Agassiz) 22 25. Expanded animals of Millepora (Agassiz) 22 26. Transverse section of branch of Millepora (Agassiz) 23 27. PLEUROBRACHIA RHODODACTYLA (Agassiz) 27 28. The same as Fig. 27 seen in plane of tentacles (Agassiz) 28 29. Pleurobrachia in motion 29 30. Pleurobrachia seen from the extremity opposite the mouth 30 31. BOLINA ALATA seen from the broad side (Agassiz) 31 32. Bolina seen from the narrow side (Agassiz) 31 33. IDYIA ROSEOLA seen from the broad side (Agassiz) 32 34. Young Pleurobrachia still in the egg 35 35. Young Pleurobrachia swimming in the egg 35 36. Young Pleurobrachia resembling already adult 35 37. Young Idyia 35 38. Young Idyia seen from the anal pole 36 39. Idyia somewhat older than Fig. 37 36 40. Idyia still older 36 41. Young Bolina in stage resembling Pleurobrachia 37 42. Young Bolina seen from the broad side 37 43. Young Bolina seen from the narrow side 37 44. CYANEA ARCTICA 40 45. Scyphistoma of Aurelia (Agassiz) 41 46. Scyphistoma older than Fig. 45 (Agassiz) 41 47. Strobila of Aurelia (Agassiz) 41 48. Ephyra of Aurelia (Agassiz) 42 49. AURELIA FLAVIDULA seen in profile (Agassiz) 42 50. Aurelia seen from above (Agassiz) 43 51. CAMPANELLA PACHYDERMA 44 52. The same from below 44 53. TRACHYNEMA DIGITALE 45 54. HALICLYSTUS AURICULA 46 55. Lucernaria seen from the mouth side 47 56. Young Lucernaria 48 57. Hydrarium of EUCOPE DIAPHANA 50 58. Magnified portion of Fig. 57 50 59. Part of marginal tentacles of Eucope 51 60. Young Eucope 51 61. Adult Eucope, profile 51 62. Quarter-disk of Fig. 60 51 63. Quarter-disk of Eucope older than Fig. 62 52 64. Quarter-disk of adult Eucope 52 65. OCEANIA LANGUIDA just escaped from the reproductive calycle 53 66. Same as Fig. 65 from below 53 67. Young Oceania older than Fig. 65 54 Diagram of succession of tentacles 54 68. Adult Oceania 55 69. Attitude assumed by Oceania 56 70. CLYTIA BICOPHORA escaped from reproductive calycle 57 71. Somewhat older than Fig. 70 57 72. Magnified portion of Hydrarium of Clytia 57 73. Adult Clytia 57 74. ZYGODACTYLA GROENLANDICA 58 75. The same seen in profile 59 76. TIMA FORMOSA 61 77. One of the lips of the mouth 61 78. Head of Hydrarium of Tima 62 79. MELICERTUM CAMPANULA from above (Agassiz) 63 80. The same seen in profile 64 81. Planula of Melicertum 65 82. Cluster of planulæ 65 83. Young Hydrarium 65 84. DYNAMENA PUMILA 66 85. Magnified portion of Fig. 84 66 86. DYPHASIA ROSACEA 67 87. Medusa of LAFOEA 67 88. Colony of Coryne mirabilis (Agassiz) 68 89. Magnified head of Fig. 88 (Agassiz) 68 90. Free Medusa of Coryne (Agassiz) 68 91. TURRIS VESICARIA 69 92. BOUGAINVILLIA SUPERCILIARIS 70 93. Hydrarium of Bougainvillia 70 94, 95, 96. Medusæ buds of Fig. 93 71 97. Young Medusa just freed from the Hydroid 71 98. TUBULARIA COUTHOUYI (Agassiz) 72 99. Cluster of Medusæ of Fig. 98 (Agassiz) 72 100. Female colony of HYDRACTINIA POLYCLINA (Agassiz) 73 101. Male colony of the same (Agassiz) 73 102. Unsymmetrical Medusa of HYBOCODON PROLIFER (Agassiz) 74 103. Medusa bud of Hybocodon (Agassiz) 74 104. Hybocodon Hydrarium (Agassiz) 74 105. DYSMORPHOSA FULGURANS 75 106. Proboscis of Fig. 105 with young Medusæ 75 107. Young NANOMIA CARA 76 108. Nanomia with rudimentary Medusæ 76 109. Nanomia somewhat older than Fig. 108 77 110. Heart-shaped swimming bell of Nanomia 77 111. Cluster of Medusæ with tentacles having pendent knobs 78 112. Magnified pendent knob 79 113. Medusa with corkscrew-shaped tentacles 79 114. Medusa with simple tentacle 80 115. Adult Nanomia 81 116. Oil float of Nanomia 82 117. PHYSALIA ARETHUSA (Agassiz) 83 118. Bunch of Hydræ (Agassiz) 84 119. Cluster of Medusæ (Agassiz) 86 120. VELELLA MUTICA (Agassiz) 84 121. Free Medusa of Velella (Agassiz) 84 122. PTYCHOGENA LACTEA 86 123. Ovary of Ptychogena 87 124. SYNAPTA TENUIS 95 125. Anchor of Synapta 96 126. CAUDINA ARENATA 97 127. CUVIERIA SQUAMATA 98 128. Young Cuvieria 99 129. Cuvieria somewhat older than Fig. 128 99 130. PENTACTA FRONDOSA 100 131. TOXOPNEUSTES DROBACHIENSIS 102 132. Portion of shell of Fig. 131 without spines (Agassiz) 103 133. Sea-urchin shell without spines (Agassiz) 103 134. Sea-urchin from the mouth side (Agassiz) 104 135. Magnified spine 104 136. Transverse section of spine 105 137. Pedicellaria of Sea-urchin 105 138. Teeth of Sea-urchin 106 139. ECHINARACHNIUS PARMA 107 140. Transverse section of Echinarachnius (Agassiz) 108 141. Ray of Star-fish, seen from mouth side (Agassiz) 109 142. ASTRACANTHION BERYLINUS 110 143. Single spine of Star-fish 111 144. Limestone network of back of Star-fish 111 145. Madreporic body of Star-fish 111 146. CRIBRELLA OCULATA 112 147. CTENODISCUS CRISPATUS 114 148. OPHIOPHOLIS BELLIS 115 149. Arm of Fig. 148, from the mouth side (Agassiz) 116 150. Tentacle of Ophiopolis 116 151. ASTROPHYTON AGASSIZII 118 152. Pentacrinus 121 153. ALECTO MERIDIONALIS 122 154. Young Comatulæ 122 155, 156, 157. Egg of Star-fish in different stages of development 124 158. Larva just hatched from egg 125 159-164. Successive stages of development of Larva 125 165. Larva in which arms are developing 126 166. Adult Star-fish Larva (BRACHIOLARIA) 127 167. Fig. 166 seen in profile 128 168-170. Young Star-fish (Astracanthion) in different stages of development 129 171. Lower side of ray of young Star-fish 130 172. Very young Star-fish seen in profile 130 173-175. Larvæ of Sea-urchin (Toxopneustes) in different stages of development 130, 131 176. Adult Larva of Sea-urchin 132 177. Fig. 176 seen endways 133 178. Sea-urchin resorbing the arms of the larva 133 179-181. Successive stages of young Sea-urchin 133, 134 182. Ophiuran which has nearly resorbed the larva 135 183. Larva of Ophiuran (Pluteus) 136 184. Young Ophiuran 137 185. Cluster of eggs of Star-fishes over mouth of parent 137 Diagram of a rocky beach 149 ABBREVIATIONS OF THE NAMES OF AUTHORS. AG. L. Agassiz. A. AG. A. Agassiz. AYRES W. O. Ayres. BLAINV. Blainville. BOSC Bosc. BR. Brandt. CLARK H. J. Clark. CUV. Cuvier. D. & K. Düben and Koren. EDW. Milne-Edwards. FORBES Edw. Forbes. GRAY J. E. Gray. JAEG. Jaeger. LAM. Lamarck. LAMX. Lamouroux. LIN. Linnæus. LYM. Lyman. M. & T. Müller and Troschel. MILL. Miller. PÉR. et LES. Péron and Lesueur. SARS M. Sars. STIMP. Stimpson. TIL. Tilesius. * * * * * MARINE ANIMALS OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY. ON RADIATES IN GENERAL. It is perhaps not strange that the Radiates, a type of animals whose home is in the sea, many of whom are so diminutive in size, and so light and evanescent in substance, that they are hardly to be distinguished from the element in which they live, should have been among the last to attract the attention of naturalists. Neither is it surprising to those who know something of the history of these animals, that when the investigation of their structure was once begun, when some insight was gained into their complex life, their association in fixed or floating communities, their wonderful processes of development uniting the most dissimilar individuals in one and the same cycle of growth, their study should have become one of the most fascinating pursuits of modern science, and have engaged the attention of some of the most original investigators during the last half century. It is true that from the earliest days of Natural History, the more conspicuous and easily accessible of these animals attracted notice and found their way into the scientific works of the time. Even Aristotle describes some of them under the names of Acalephæ and Knidæ, and later observers have added something, here and there, to our knowledge on the subject; but it is only within the last fifty years that their complicated history has been unravelled, and the facts concerning them presented in their true connection. Among the earlier writers on this subject we are most indebted to Rondelet, in the sixteenth century, who includes some account of the Radiates, in his work on the marine animals of the Mediterranean. His position as Professor in the University at Montpelier gave him an admirable opportunity, of which he availed himself to the utmost, for carrying out his investigations in this direction. Seba and Klein, two naturalists in the North of Europe, also published at about this time numerous illustrations of marine animals, including Radiates. But in all these works we find only drawings and descriptions of the animals, without any attempt to classify them according to common structural features. In 1776, O. F. Müller, in a work on the marine and terrestrial faunæ of Denmark, gave some admirable figures of Radiates, several of which are identical with those found on our own coast. Cavolini also in his investigations on the lower marine animals of the Mediterranean, and Ellis in his work upon those of the British coast, did much during the latter half of the past century to enlarge our knowledge of them. It was Cuvier, however, who first gave coherence and precision to all previous investigations upon this subject, by showing that these animals are united on a common plan of structure expressively designated by him under the name Radiata. Although, from a mistaken appreciation of their affinities, he associated some animals with them which do not belong to the type, and have since, upon a more intimate knowledge of their structure, been removed to their true positions; yet the principle introduced by him into their classification, as well as into that of the other types of the animal kingdom, has been all important to science. It was in the early part of this century that the French began to associate scientific objects with their government expeditions. Scarcely any important voyage was undertaken to foreign countries by the French navy which did not include its corps of naturalists, under the patronage of government. Among the most beautiful figures we have of Radiates, are those made by Savigny, one of the French naturalists who accompanied Napoleon to Egypt; and from this time the lower marine animals began to be extensively collected and studied in their living condition. Henceforth the number of investigators in the field became more numerous, and it may not be amiss to give here a slight account of the more prominent among them. Darwin's fascinating book, published after his voyage to the Pacific, and giving an account of the Coral islands, the many memoirs of Milne Edwards and Haime, and the great works of Quoy and Gaimard, and of Dana, are the chief authorities upon Polyps. In the study of the European Acalephs we have a long list of names high in the annals of science. Eschscholtz, Péron and Lesueur, Quoy and Gaimard, Lesson, Mertens, and Huxley, have all added largely to our information respecting these animals, their various voyages having enabled them to extend their investigations over a wide field. No less valuable have been the memoirs of Kölliker, Leuckart, Gegenbaur, Vogt, and Haeckel, who in their frequent excursions to the coasts of Italy and France have made a special study of the Acalephs, and whose descriptions have all the vividness and freshness which nothing but familiarity with the living specimens can give. Besides these, we have the admirable works of Von Siebold, of Ehrenberg, the great interpreter of the microscopic world, of Steenstrup, Dujardin, Dalyell, Forbes, Allman, and Sars. Of these, the four latter were fortunate in having their home on the sea-shore within reach of the objects of their study, so that they could watch them in their living condition, and follow all their changes. The charming books of Forbes, who knew so well how to popularize his instructions, and present scientific results under the most attractive form, are well known to English readers. But a word on the investigations of Sars may not be superfluous. Born near the coast of Norway, and in early life associated with the Church, his passion for Natural History led him to employ all his spare time in the study of the marine animals immediately about him, and his first papers on this subject attracted so much attention, that he was offered the place of Professor at Christiania, and henceforth devoted himself exclusively to scientific pursuits, and especially to the investigation of the Acalephs. He gave us the key to the almost fabulous transformations of these animals, and opened a new path in science by showing the singular phenomenon of the so-called "alternate generations," in which the different phases of the same life may be so distinct and seemingly so disconnected that, until we find the relation between them, we seem to have several animals where we have but one. To the works above mentioned, we may add the third and fourth volumes of Professor Agassiz's Contributions to the Natural History of the United States, which are entirely devoted to the American Acalephs. The most important works and memoirs concerning the Echinoderms are those by Klein, Link, Johannes Müller, Jäger, Desmoulins, Troschel, Sars, Savigny, Forbes, Agassiz, and Lütken, but excepting those of Forbes and Sars, few of these observations are made upon the living specimens. It may be well to mention here, for the benefit of those who care to know something more of the literature of this subject in our own country, a number of memoirs on the Radiates of our coasts, published by the various scientific societies of the United States, and to be found in their annals. Such are the papers of Gould, Agassiz, Leidy, Stimpson, Ayres, McCrady, Clark, A. Agassiz, and Verrill. One additional word as to the manner in which the subjects included in the following descriptions are arranged. We have seen that Cuvier recognized the unity of plan in the structure of the whole type of Radiates. All these animals have their parts disposed around a common central axis, and diverging from it toward the periphery. The idea of bilateral symmetry, or the arrangement of parts on either side of a longitudinal axis, on which all the higher animals are built, does not enter into their structure, except in a very subordinate manner, hardly to be perceived by any but the professional naturalist. This radiate structure being then common to the whole type, the animals composing it appear under three distinct structural expressions of the general plan, and according to these differences are divided into three classes,--Polyps, Acalephs, and Echinoderms. With these few preliminary remarks we may now take up in turn these different groups, beginning with the lowest, or the Polyps.[1] [Footnote 1: It is to be regretted that on account of the meagre representations of Polyps on our coast, where the coral reefs, which include the most interesting features of Polyp life, are entirely wanting, our account of these animals is necessarily deficient in variety of material. When we reach the Acalephs or Jelly-Fishes, in which the fauna of our shores is especially rich, we shall not have the same apology for dulness; and it will be our own fault if our readers are not attracted by the many graceful forms to which we shall then introduce them.] * * * * * GENERAL SKETCH OF THE POLYPS. Before describing the different kinds of Polyps living on our immediate coast, we will say a few words of Polyps in general and of the mode in which the structural plan common to all Radiates is adapted to this particular class. In all Polyps the body consists of a sac divided by vertical partitions (Fig. 1.) into distinct cavities or chambers. These partitions are not, however, all formed at once, but are usually limited to six at first, multiplying indefinitely with the growth of the animal in some kinds, while in others they never increase beyond a certain definite number. In the axis of the sac, thus divided, hangs a smaller one, forming the digestive cavity, and supported for its whole length by the six primary partitions. The other partitions, though they extend more or less inward in proportion to their age, do not unite with the digestive sac, but leave a free space in the centre between their inner edge and the outer wall of the digestive sac. The genital organs are placed on the inner edges of the partitions, thus hanging as it were at the door of the chambers, so that when hatched, the eggs naturally drop into the main cavity of the body, whence they pass into the second smaller sac through an opening in its bottom or digestive cavity, and thence out through the mouth into the water. In the lower Polyps, as in our common Actinia for instance, these organs occur on all the radiating partitions, while among the higher ones, the Halcyonoids for example, they are found only on a limited number. This limitation in the repetition of identical parts is always found to be connected with structural superiority. [Illustration: Fig. 1. Transverse section of an Actinia. (_Agassiz_.)] The upper margin of the body is fringed by hollow tentacles, each of which opens into one of the chambers. All parts of the animal thus communicate with each other, whatever is introduced at the mouth circulating through the whole structure, passing first into the digestive cavity, thence through the opening in the bottom into the main chambered cavity, where it enters freely into all the chambers, and from the chambers into the tentacles. The rejected portions of the food, after the process of digestion is completed, return by the same road and are thrown out at the mouth. These general features exist in all Polyps, and whether they lead an independent life as the Actinia, or are combined in communities, like most of the corals and the Halcyonoids; whether the tentacles are many or few; whether the partitions extend to a greater or less height in the body; whether they contain limestone deposit, as in the corals, or remain soft throughout life as the sea-anemone,--the above description applies to them all, while the minor differences, either in the tentacles or in the form, size, color, and texture of the body, are simply modifications of this structure, introducing an infinite variety into the class, and breaking it up into the lesser groups designated as orders, families, genera, and species. Let us now look at some of the divisions thus established. The class of Polyps is divided into three orders,--the Halcyonoids, the Madreporians, and the Actinoids. Of the lowest among these orders, the Actinoid Polyps, our Actinia or sea-anemone is a good example. They remain soft through life, having a great number of partitions and consequently a great number of tentacles, since there is a tentacle corresponding to every chamber. Indeed, in this order the multiplication of tentacles and partitions is indefinite, increasing during the whole life of the animal with its growth; while we shall see that in some of the higher orders the constancy and limitation in the number of these parts is an indication of superiority, being accompanied by a more marked individualization of the different functions. Next come the Madreporians, of which our Astrangia, to be described hereafter, may be cited as an example. In this group, although the number of tentacles still continues to be large, they are nevertheless more limited than in the Actinoids; but their characteristic feature is the deposition of limestone walls in the centre of the chambers formed by the soft partitions, so that all the soft partitions alternate with hard ones. The tentacles, always corresponding to the cavity of the chambers, may be therefore said to ride this second set of partitions arising just in the centre of the chambers. The third and highest order of Polyps is that of the Halcyonoids. Here the partitions are reduced to eight; the tentacles, according to the invariable rule, agree in number with the chambers, but have a far more highly complicated structure than in the lower Polyps. Some of these Halcyonoids deposit limestone particles in their frame. But the tendency to solidify is not limited to definite points, as in the Madreporians. It may take place anywhere, the rigidity of the whole structure increasing of course in proportion to the accumulation of limestone. There are many kinds, in which the axis always remains soft or cartilaginous, while others, as the so-called sea-fans for instance, well known among the corals for their beauty of form and color, are stiff and hard throughout. Whatever their character in this respect, however, they are always compound, living in communities, and never found as separate individuals after their early stages of growth. Some of those with soft axis lead a wandering life, enjoying as much freedom of movement as if they had an individual existence, shooting through the water like the Pennatulæ, well known on the California coast, or working their way through the sand like the Renilla, common on the sandy shores of our Southern States. * * * * * ACTINOIDS. _Actinia, or Sea-Anemone_. (_Metridium marginatum_ EDW.) Nothing can be more unprepossessing than a sea-anemone when contracted. A mere lump of brown or whitish jelly, it lies like a lifeless thing on the rock to which it clings, and it is difficult to believe that it has an elaborate and exceedingly delicate internal organization, or will ever expand into such grace and beauty as really to deserve the name of the flower after which it has been called. Figs. 2, 3, 4, and 5, show this animal in its various stages of expansion and contraction. Fig. 2 represents it with all its external appendages folded in, and the whole body flattened; in Fig. 3, the tentacles begin to steal out, and the body rises slightly; in Fig. 4, the body has nearly gained its full height, and the tentacles, though by no means fully spread, yet form a delicate wreath around the mouth; while in Fig. 5, drawn in life size, the whole summit of the body seems crowned with soft, plumy fringes. We would say for the benefit of collectors that these animals are by no means difficult to find, and thrive well in confinement, though it will not do to keep them in a small aquarium with other specimens, because they soon render the water foul and unfit for their companions. They should therefore be kept in a separate glass jar or bowl, and under such circumstances will live for a long time with comparatively little care. [Illustration: Figs. 2, 3, 4. Actinia in different degrees of expansion. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 5. The same Actinia (Metridium marginatum) fully expanded; natural size.] They may be found in any small pools about the rocks which are flooded by the tide at high water. Their favorite haunts, however, where they occur in greatest quantity are more difficult to reach; but the curious in such matters will be well rewarded, even at the risk of wet feet and a slippery scramble over rocks covered with damp sea-weed, by a glimpse into their more crowded abodes. Such a grotto is to be found on the rocks of East Point at Nahant. It can only be reached at low tide, and then one is obliged to creep on hands and knees to its entrance, in order to see through its entire length; but its whole interior is studded with these animals, and as they are of various hues, pink, brown, orange, purple, or pure white, the effect is like that of brightly colored mosaics set in the roof and walls. When the sun strikes through from the opposite extremity of this grotto, which is open at both ends, lighting up its living mosaic work, and showing the play of the soft fringes wherever the animals are open, it would be difficult to find any artificial grotto to compare with it in beauty. There is another of the same kind on Saunders's Ledge, formed by a large boulder resting on two rocky ledges, leaving a little cave beneath, lined in the same way with variously colored sea-anemones, so closely studded over its walls that the surface of the rock is completely hidden. They are, however, to be found in larger or smaller clusters, or scattered singly in any rocky fissures, overhung by sea-weed, and accessible to the tide at high water. The description of Polyp structure given above includes all the general features of the sea-anemone; but for the better explanation of the figures, it may not be amiss to recapitulate them here in their special application. The body of the sea-anemone may be described as a circular, gelatinous bag, the bottom of which is flat and slightly spreading around the margin. (Fig. 2.) The upper edge of this bag turns in so as to form a sac within a sac. (Fig. 6.) This inner sac, _s_, is the stomach or digestive cavity, forming a simple open space in the centre of the body, with an aperture in the bottom, _b_, through which the food passes into the larger sac, in which it is enclosed. But this outer and larger sac or main cavity of the body is not, like the inner one, a simple open space. It is, on the contrary, divided by vertical partitions into a number of distinct chambers, converging from the periphery to the centre. These partitions do not all advance so far as actually to join the wall of the digestive cavity hanging in the centre of the body, but most of them stop a little short of it, leaving thus a small, open space between the chambers and the inner sac. (Fig. 1.) The eggs hang on the inner edge of the partitions; when mature they drop into the main cavity, enter the inner digestive cavity through its lower opening, and are passed out through the mouth. [Illustration: Fig. 6. Vertical section of an Actinia, showing a primary _(g)_ and a secondary partition of _g'_; _o_ mouth, _t_ tentacles, _s_ stomach, _f f_ reproductive organs, _b_ main cavity, _c_ openings in partitions, _a_ lower floor, or foot.] The embryo bears no resemblance to the mature animal. It is a little planula, semi-transparent, oblong, entirely covered with vibratile cilia, by means of which it swims freely about in the water till it establishes itself on some rocky surface, the end by which it becomes attached spreading slightly and fitting itself to the inequalities of the rock so as to form a secure basis. The upper end then becomes depressed toward the centre, that depression deepening more and more till it forms the inner sac, or in other words the digestive cavity described above. The open mouth of this inner sac, which may, however, be closed at will, since the whole substance of the body is exceedingly contractile, is the oral opening or so-called mouth of the animal. We have seen how the main cavity becomes divided by radiating partitions into numerous chambers; but while these internal changes are going on, corresponding external appendages are forming in the shape of the tentacles, which add so much to the beauty of the animal, and play so important a part in its history. The tentacles, at first only few in number, are in fact so many extensions of the inner chambers, gradually narrowing upward till they form these delicate hollow feelers which make a soft downy fringe all around the mouth. (Fig. 7.) They do not start abruptly from the summit, but the upper margin of the body itself thins out to form more or less extensive lobes, through which the partitions and chambers continue their course, and along the edge of which the tentacles arise. [Illustration: Fig. 7. View from above of an Actinia with all its tentacles expanded; _o_ mouth, _b_ crescent-shaped folds at extremity of mouth, _a a_ folds round mouth, _t t t_ tentacles.] [Illustration: Figs. 8, 9. Young Actiniæ in different stages of growth.] The eggs are not always laid in the condition of the simple planula described above. They may, on the contrary, be dropped from the parent in different stages of development, sometimes even after the tentacles have begun to form, as in Figs. 8, 9. Neither is it by means of eggs alone that these animals reproduce themselves; they may also multiply by a process of self-division. The disk of an Actinia may contract along its centre till the circular outline is changed to that of a figure 8, this constriction deepening gradually till the two halves of the 8 separate, and we have an Actinia with two mouths, each surrounded by an independent set of tentacles. Presently this separation descends vertically till the body is finally divided from summit to base, and we have two Actiniæ where there was originally but one. Another and a far more common mode of reproduction among these animals is that of budding like corals. A slight swelling arises on the side of the body or at its base; it enlarges gradually, a digestive cavity is formed within it, tentacles arise around its summit, and it finally drops off from the parent and leads an independent existence. As a number of these buds are frequently formed at once, such an Actinia, surrounded by its little family, still attached to the parent, may appear for a time like a compound stock, though their normal mode of existence is individual and distinct. The Actinia is exceedingly sensitive, contracting the body and drawing in the tentacles almost instantaneously at the slightest touch. These sudden movements are produced by two powerful sets of muscles, running at right angles with each other through the thickness of the body wall; the one straight and vertical, extending from the base of the wall to its summit; the other circular and horizontal, stretching concentrically around it. By the contraction of the former, the body is of course shortened; by the contraction of the latter, the body is, on the contrary, lengthened in proportion to the compression of its circumference. Both sets can easily be traced by the vertical and horizontal lines crossing each other on the external wall of the body, as in Fig. 5. Each tentacle is in like manner furnished with a double set of muscles, having an action similar to that described above. In consequence of these violent muscular contractions, the water imbibed by the animal, and by which all its parts are distended to the utmost, is forced, not only out of the mouth, but also through small openings in the body wall scarcely perceptible under ordinary circumstances, but at such times emitting little fountains in every direction. Notwithstanding its extraordinary sensitiveness, the organs of the senses in the Actinia are very inferior, consisting only of a few pigment cells accumulated at the base of the tentacles. The two sets of muscles meet at the base of the body, forming a disk, or kind of foot, by which the animal can fix itself so firmly to the ground, that it is very difficult to remove it without injury. It is nevertheless capable of a very limited degree of motion, by means of the expansion and contraction of this foot-like disk. The Actiniæ are extremely voracious; they feed on mussels and cockles, sucking the animals out of their shells. When in confinement they may be fed on raw meat, and seem to relish it; but if compelled to do so, they will live on more meagre fare, and will even thrive for a long time on such food as they may pick up in the water where they are kept. _Rhodactinia_ (_Rhodactinia Davisii_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 10. Rhodactinia Davisii Ag.; natural size.] Very different from this is the bright red Rhodactinia (Fig. 10), quite common in the deeper waters of our bay, while farther north, in Maine, it occurs at low-water mark. Occasionally it may be found thrown up on our sandy beaches after a storm, and then, if it has not been too long out of its native element, or too severely buffeted by the waves, it will revive on being thrown into a bucket of fresh sea-water, expand to its full size, and show all the beauty of its natural coloring. It is crowned with a wreath of thick, short tentacles (Fig. 10), and though so vivid and bright in color, it is not so pretty as the more common Actinia marginata, with its soft waving wreath of plume-like feelers, in comparison to which the tentacles of the Rhodactinia are clumsy and slow in their movements. All Actiniæ are not attached to the soil like those described above, nor do they all terminate in a muscular foot, some being pointed or rounded at their extremity. Many are nomadic, wandering about at will during their whole lifetime, others live buried in the sand or mud, only extending their tentacles beyond the limits of the hole where they make their home; while others again lead a parasitic life, fastening themselves upon our larger jelly-fish, the Cyaneæ, though one is at a loss to imagine what sustenance they can derive from animals having so little solidity, and consisting so largely of water. _Arachnactis_. (_Arachnactis brachiolata_ A. AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 11. Arachnactis brachiolata A. Ag., greatly magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 12. Young Arachnactis.] [Illustration: Fig. 13. Young Arachnactis seen so as to show the mouth.] Among the nomadic Polyps is a small floating Actinia, called Arachnactis, (Fig. 11,) from its resemblance to a spider. They are found in great plenty floating about during the night, feeling their way in every direction by means of their tentacles, which are large in proportion to the size of the animal, few in number, and turned downward when in their natural attitude. The partitions and the digestive cavity enclosed between them are short, as will be seen in Fig. 11, when compared to the general cavity of the body floating balloon-like above them. Around the mouth is a second row of shorter tentacles, better seen in a younger specimen (Fig. 12). This Actinia differs from those described above, in having two of the sides flattened, instead of being perfectly circular. Looked at from above (as in Fig. 13) this difference in the diameters is very perceptible; there is an evident tendency towards establishing a longitudinal axis. In the sea-anemone, this disposition is only hinted at in the slightly pointed folds or projections on opposite sides of the circle formed by the mouth, which in the Arachnactis are so elongated as to produce a somewhat narrow slit (see Fig. 13), instead of a circular opening. The mouth is also a little out of centre, rather nearer one end of the disk than the other. These facts are interesting, as showing that the tendency towards establishing a balance of parts, as between an anterior and posterior extremity, a right and left side, is not forgotten in these lower animals, though their organization as a whole is based upon an equality of parts, admitting neither of posterior and anterior extremities, nor of right and left, nor of above and below, in a structural sense. This animal also presents a seeming anomaly in the mode of formation of the young tentacles, which always make their appearance at the posterior extremity of the longitudinal axis, the new ones being placed behind the older ones, instead of alternating with them as in other Actiniæ. _Bicidium_. (_Bicidium parasiticum_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 14. Bicidium parasiticum; natural size.] The Bicidium (Fig. 14), our parasitic Actinia, is to be sought for in the mouth-folds of the Cyanea, our common large red Jelly-fish. In any moderate-sized specimen of the latter from twelve to eighteen inches in diameter, we shall be sure to find one or more of these parasites, hidden away among the numerous folds of the mouth. The body is long and tapering, having an aperture in the extremity, the whole animal being like an elongated cone, strongly ribbed from apex to base. At the base, viz. at the month end, are a few short, stout tentacles. This Actinia is covered with innumerable little transverse wrinkles (see Fig. 14), by means of which it fastens itself securely among the fluted membranes around the mouth of the Jelly-fish. It will live a considerable time in confinement, attaching itself, for its whole length, to the vessel in which it is kept, and clinging quite firmly if any attempt is made to remove it. The general color of the body is violet or a brownish red, though the wrinkles give it a somewhat mottled appearance. _Halcampa_. (_Halcampa albida_ AG.) Strange to say, the Actiniæ, which live in the mud, are among the most beautifully colored of these animals. They frequently prepare their home with some care, lining their hole by means of the same secretions which give their slimy surface to our common Actiniæ, and thus forming a sort of tube, into which they retire when alarmed. But if undisturbed, they may be seen at the open door of their house with their many colored disk and mottled tentacles extending beyond the aperture, and their mouth wide open, waiting for what the tide may bring them. By the play of their tentacles, they can always produce a current of water about the mouth, by means of which food passes into the stomach. We have said, that these animals are very brightly colored, but the little Halcampa (Fig. 15), belonging to our coast, is not one of the brilliant ones. It is, on the contrary, a small, insignificant Actinia, resembling a worm, as it burrows its way through the sand. It is of a pale yellowish color, with whitish warts on the surface. [Illustration: Fig. 15. Halcampa albida; natural size.] * * * * * MADREPORIANS. _Astrangia_. (_Astrangia Danæ_ AG.) In Figure 16, we have the only species of coral growing so far north as our latitude. Indeed, it hardly belongs in this volume, since we have limited ourselves to the Radiates of Massachusetts Bay,--its northernmost boundary being somewhat to the south of Massachusetts Bay, about the shores of Long Island, and on the islands of Martha's Vineyard Sound. But we introduce it here, though it is not included under our title, because any account of the Radiates, from which so important a group as that of the corals was excluded, would be very incomplete. [Illustration: Fig. 16. Astrangia colony; natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 17. Magnified individuals of an Astrangia community in different stages of expansion.] This pretty coral of our Northern waters is no reef-builder, and does not extend farther south than the shores of North Carolina. It usually establishes itself upon broken angular bits of rock, lying in sheltered creeks and inlets, where the violent action of the open sea is not felt. The presence of one of these little communities on a rock may first be detected by what seems like a delicate white film over the surface. This film is, however, broken up by a number of hard calcareous deposits in very regular form (Fig. 20), circular in outline, but divided by numerous partitions running from the outer wall to the centre of every such circle, where they unite at a little white spot formed by the mouth or oral opening. These circles represent, and indeed are themselves the distinct individuals (Fig. 17) composing the community, and they look not unlike the star-shaped pits on a coral head, formed by Astræans. Unlike the massive compact kinds of coral, however, the individuals multiply by budding from the base chiefly, never rising one above the other, but spreading over the surface on which they have established themselves, a few additional individuals arising between the older ones. In consequence of this mode of growth, such a community, when it has attained any size, forms a little white mound on the rock, higher in the centre, where the older members have attained their whole height and solidity, and thinning out toward the margin, where the younger ones may be just beginning life, and hardly rise above the surface of the rock. These communities rarely grow to be more than two or three inches in diameter, and about quarter of an inch in height at the centre where the individuals have reached their maximum size. When the animals are fully expanded (Fig. 18), with all their tentacles spread, the surface of every such mound becomes covered with downy white fringes, and what seemed before a hard, calcareous mass upon the rock, changes to a soft fleecy tuft, waving gently to and fro in the water. The tentacles are thickly covered with small wart-like appendages, which, on examination, prove to be clusters of lasso-cells, the terminal cluster of the tentacle being quite prominent. These lasso-cells are very formidable weapons, judging both from their appearance when magnified (Fig. 19), and from the terrible effect of their bristling lash upon any small crustacean, or worm, that may be so unfortunate as to come within its reach. [Illustration: Fig. 18. Single individual of Astrangia, fully expanded.] [Illustration: Fig. 19. Magnified lasso-cell of Astrangia.] The description of the internal arrangement of parts in the Actinia applies in every particular to these corals, with the exception of the hard deposit in the lower part of the body. As in all the Polyps, radiating partitions divide the main cavity of the body into distinct separate chambers, and the tentacles increasing by multiples of six, numbering six in the first set, six in the second, and twelve in the third, are hollow, and open into the chambers. But the feature which distinguishes them from the soft Actiniæ, and unites them with the corals, requires a somewhat more accurate description. In each individual, a hard deposit is formed (Fig. 20), beginning at the base of every chamber, and rising from its floor to about one fifth the height of the animal at its greatest extension. This lime deposit does not, however, fill the chamber for its whole width, but rises as a thin wall in its centre. (See Figs. 13, 17.) Thus between all the soft partitions, in the middle of the chambers which separate them, low limestone walls are gradually built up, uniting in a solid column in the centre. These walls run parallel with the soft partitions, although they do not rise to the same height, and they form the radiating lines like stiff lamellæ, so conspicuous when all the soft parts of the body are drawn in. The mouth of the Astrangia is oval, and the partitions spread in a fan-shaped way, being somewhat shorter at one side of the animal than on the other. The partitions extend beyond the solid wall which unites them at the periphery, in consequence of which, this wall is marked by faint vertical ribs. [Illustration: Fig. 20. Limestone parts of an individual of Astrangia; magnified.] * * * * * HALCYONOIDS. _Halcyonium_. (_Halcyonium carneum_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 21. Single individual of Halcyonium seen from above; magnified.] We come now to the Halcyonoids, represented in our waters by the Halcyonium (Fig. 22). In the Halcyonoids, the highest group of Polyps, the tentacles reach their greatest limitation, which, as above mentioned, is found to be a mark of superiority, and, connected with other structural features, places them at the head of their class. The number of tentacles throughout this group is always eight. They are very complicated (Fig. 21), in comparison with the tentacles of the lower orders, being deeply lobed, and fringed around the margin. Our Halcyonium communities (Fig. 22) usually live in deep water, attached to dead shells, though they may occasionally be found growing at low-water mark, but this is very rare. They have received a rather lugubrious name from the fishermen, who call them "dead-men's fingers," and indeed, when the animals are contracted, such a community, with its short branches attached to the main stock, looks not unlike the stump of a hand, with short, fat fingers. In such a condition they are very ugly, the whole mass being somewhat gelatinous in texture, and a dull, yellowish pink in color. But when the animals, which are capable of great extension, are fully spread, as in Fig. 22, such a polyp-stock has a mossy, tufted look, and is by no means an unsightly object. When the individuals are entirely expanded, as in Fig. 23, they become quite transparent, and their internal structure can readily be seen through the walls of the body; we can then easily distinguish the digestive cavity, supported for its whole length by the eight radiating partitions, as well as the great size of the main digestive cavity surrounding it. Notwithstanding the remarkable power of contraction and dilatation in the animals themselves, the tentacles are but slightly contractile. This kind of community increases altogether by budding, the individual polyps remaining more or less united, the tissues of the individuals becoming thicker by the deposition of lime nodules, and thus forming a massive semi-cartilaginous pulp, uniting the whole community. In the neighborhood of Provincetown they are very plentiful, and are found all along the shores of our Bay in deep water. [Illustration: Fig. 22. Halcyonium community; natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 23. Individual of Halcyonium fully expanded; magnified.] GENERAL SKETCH OF ACALEPHS. In the whole history of metamorphosis, that wonderful chapter in the life of animals, there is nothing more strange or more interesting than the transformations of the Acalephs. First, as little floating planulæ or transparent spheres, covered with fine vibratile cilia, by means of which they move with great rapidity, then as communities fixed to the ground and increasing by budding like the corals, or multiplying by self-division, and later as free-swimming Jelly-fishes, many of them pass through phases which have long baffled the investigations of naturalists, and have only recently been understood in their true connection. Great progress has, however, been made during this century in our knowledge of this class. Thanks to the investigations of Sars, Dujardin, Steenstrup, Van Beneden, and many others, we now have the key to their true relations, and transient phases of growth, long believed to be the adult condition of distinct animals, are recognized as parts in a cycle of development belonging to one and the same life. As the class now stands, it includes three orders, highest among which are the CTENOPHORÆ, so called on account of their locomotive organs, consisting of minute flappers arranged in vertical comb-like rows; next to these are the DISCOPHORÆ, with their large gelatinous umbrella-like disks, commonly called Jelly-fishes, Sun-fishes, or Sea-blubbers, and below these come the HYDROIDS, embracing the most minute and most diversified of all these animals. These orders are distinguished not only by their striking external differences, but by their mode of development also. The Ctenophoræ grow from eggs by a direct continuous process of development, without undergoing any striking metamorphosis; the Discophoræ, with some few exceptions, in which they develop like the Ctenophoræ from eggs, begin life as a Hydra-like animal, the subsequent self-division of which gives rise, by a singular process, presently to be described, to a number of distinct Jelly-fishes; the Hydroids include all those Acalephs which either pass the earlier stages of their existence as little shrub-like communities, or remain in that condition through life. These Hydroid stocks, as they are sometimes called, give rise to buds; these buds are transformed into Jelly-fishes, which in some instances break off when mature and swim away as free animals, while in others they remain permanent members of the Hydroid stock, never assuming a free mode of life. All these buds when mature, whether free or fixed, lay eggs in their turn, from which a fresh stock arises to renew this singular cycle of growth, known among naturalists as "alternate generations." [Illustration: Fig. 24. Branch of Millepora alcicornis; natural size. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 25. Animals of M. alcicornis expanded; magnified. _a_ _a_ _a_ small Hydroid, _b_ larger Hydroid, _t_ tentacles, _m_ mouth. (_Agassiz_.)] The Hydroids are not all attached to the ground,--some like the Physalia (Portuguese man-of-war), or the Nanomia, that pretty floating Hydroid of our own waters, move about with as much freedom as if they enjoyed an individual independent existence. As all these orders have their representatives on our coast, to be described hereafter in detail, we need only allude here to their characteristic features. But we must not leave unnoticed one very remarkable Hydroid Acaleph (Fig. 24), not found in our waters, and resembling the Polyps so much, that it has long been associated with them. The Millepore is a coral, and was therefore the more easily confounded with the Polyps, so large a proportion of which build coral stocks; but a more minute investigation of its structure (Figs. 25, 26) has recently shown that it belongs with the Acalephs.[2] This discovery is the more important, not only as explaining the true position of this animal in the Animal Kingdom, but as proving also the presence of Acalephs in the earliest periods of creation, since it refers a large number of fossil corals, whose affinities with the millepores are well understood, to that class, instead of to the class of Polyps with which they had hitherto been associated. But for this we should have no positive evidence of the existence of Acalephs in early geological periods, the gelatinous texture of the ordinary Jelly-fishes making their preservation almost impossible. It is not strange that the true nature of this animal should have remained so long unexplained; for it is only by the soft parts of the body, not of course preserved in the fossil condition, that their relations to the Acalephs may be detected; and they are so shy of approach, drawing their tentacles and the upper part of the body into their limestone frame if disturbed, that it is not easy to examine the living animal. [Footnote 2: See "Methods of Study," by Prof. Agassiz.] [Illustration: Fig. 26. Transverse section of a branch, showing pits, _a_ _a_ _a_ _a_, of the large Hydroids with the horizontal floors. (_Agassiz_.)] The Millepore is very abundant on the Florida reefs. From the solid base of the coral stock arise broad ridges, branching more or less along the edges, the whole surface being covered by innumerable pores, from which the diminutive animals project when expanded. (Fig. 25.) The whole mass of the coral is porous, and the cavities occupied by the Hydræ are sunk perpendicularly to the surface within the stock. Seen in a transverse cut these tubular cavities are divided at intervals by horizontal partitions (Fig. 26), extending straight across the cavity from wall to wall, and closing it up entirely, the animal occupying only the outer-most open space, and building a new partition behind it as it rises in the process of growth. This structure is totally different from that of the Madrepores, Astræans, Porites, and indeed, from all the polyp corals which, like all Polyps, have the vertical partitions running through the whole length of the body, and more or less open from top to bottom. The life of the Jelly-fishes, with the exception of the Millepores and the like, is short in comparison to that of other Radiates. While Polyps live for many years, and Star-fishes and Sea-urchins require ten or fifteen years to attain their full size, the short existence of the Acaleph, with all its changes, is accomplished in one year. The breeding season being in the autumn, the egg grows into a Hydroid during the winter; in the spring the Jelly-fish is freed from the Hydroid stock, or developed upon it as the case may be; it attains its full size in the fall, lays its eggs and dies, and the cycle is complete. The autumn storms make fearful havoc among them, swarms of them being killed by the fall rains, after which they may be found thrown up on the beaches in great numbers. When we consider the size of these Jelly-fishes, their rapidity of growth seems very remarkable. Our common Aurelia measures some twelve to eighteen inches in diameter when full grown, and yet in the winter it is a Hydra so small as almost to escape notice. Still more striking is the rapid increase of our Cyanea, that giant among Jelly-fishes, which, were it not for the soft, gelatinous consistency of its body, would be one of the most formidable among our marine animals. Before entering upon the descriptions of the special kinds of Jelly-fishes, we would remind our readers that the radiate plan of structure is reproduced in this class of animals as distinctly as in the Polyps, though under a different aspect. Here also we find that there is a central digestive cavity from which all the radiating cavities, whether simple or ramified, diverge toward the periphery. It is true that the open chambers of the Polyps are here transformed into narrow tubes, by the thickening of the dividing partitions; or in other words, the open spaces of the Polyps correspond to tubes in the Acalephs, while the partitions in the Polyps correspond to the thick masses of the body dividing the tubes in the Acalephs. But the principle of radiation on which the whole branch of Radiates is constructed controls the organization of Acalephs no less than that of the other classes, so that a transverse section across any Polyp (Fig. 1), or across any Acaleph (Fig. 50), or across any Echinoderm (Fig. 140), shows their internal structure to be based upon a radiation of all parts from the centre to the periphery. That there may be no vagueness as to the terms used hereafter, we would add one word respecting the nomenclature of this class, whose aliases might baffle the sagacity of a police detective. The names Acalephs, Medusæ, or the more common appellation of Jelly-fishes, cover the same ground, and are applied indiscriminately to the animals they represent. The name Jelly-fish is an inappropriate one, though the gelatinous consistency of these animals is accurately enough expressed by it; but they have no more structural relation to a fish than to a bird or an insect. They have, however, received this name before the structure of animals was understood, when all animals inhabiting the waters were indiscriminately called fishes, and it is now in such general use that it would be difficult to change it. The name Medusa is derived from their long tentacular appendages, sometimes wound up in a close coil, sometimes thrown out to a great distance, sometimes but half unfolded, and aptly enough compared to the snaky locks of Medusa. Their third and oldest appellation, that of Acalephs,--alluding to their stinging or nettling property, and given to them and like animals by Aristotle, in the first instance, but afterwards applied by Cuvier in a more limited sense to Jelly-fishes,--is the most generally accepted, and perhaps the most appropriate of all. The subject of nomenclature is not altogether so dry and arid as it seems to many who do not fully understand the significance of scientific names. Not only do they often express with terse precision the character of the animal or plant they signify, but there is also no little sentiment concealed under these jaw-breaking appellations. As seafaring men call their vessels after friends or sweethearts, or commemorate in this way some impressive event, or some object of their reverence, so have naturalists, under their fabrication of appropriate names, veiled many a graceful allusion, either to the great leaders of our science, or to some more intimate personal affection. The _Linnæa borealis_ was well named after his famous master, by a disciple of the great Norwegian naturalist; _Goethea semperflorens_, the ever-blooming, is another tribute of the same kind, while the pretty, graceful little Lizzia, named by Forbes, is one instance among many of a more affectionate reference to nearer friends. The allusions of this kind are not always of so amiable a character, however,--witness the "Buffonia," a low, noxious weed, growing in marshy places, and named by Linnæus after Buffon, whom he bitterly hated. Indeed, there is a world of meaning hidden under our zoölogical and botanical nomenclature, known only to those who are intimately acquainted with the annals of scientific life in its social as well as its professional aspect. * * * * * CTENOPHORÆ. The Ctenophoræ differ from other Jelly-fishes in their mode of locomotion. All the Discophorous Medusæ, as well as Hydroids, move by a rhythmical rise and fall of the disk, contracting and expanding with alternations so regular, that it reminds one of the action of the lungs, and seems at first sight to be a kind of respiration in which water takes the place of air. The Greeks recognized this peculiar character in their name, for they called them Sea-lungs. Indeed, locomotion, respiration, and circulation are so intimately connected in all these lower animals, that whatever promotes one of these functions affects the other also, and though the immediate result of the contraction and expansion of the disk seems to be to impel them through the water, yet it is also connected with the introduction of water into the body, which there becomes assimilated with the food in the process of digestion, and is circulated throughout all its parts by means of ramifying tubes. In the Ctenophoræ there is no such regular expansion and contraction of the disk; they are at once distinguished from the Discophoræ by the presence of external locomotive appendages of a very peculiar character. They move by the rapid flapping of countless little oars or paddles, arranged in vertical rows along the surface of the disk, acting independently of each other; one row, or even one paddle, moving singly, or all of them together, at the will of the animal; thus enabling it to accelerate or slacken its movements, to dart through the water rapidly, or to diminish its speed by partly furling its little sails, or, spreading them slightly, to poise itself with a faint, quivering movement that reminds one of the pause of the humming-bird in the air,--something that is neither positive motion, nor actual rest.[3] [Footnote 3: The flappers of one side are sometimes in full activity, while those of the other side are perfectly quiet or nearly so, thus producing rotatory movements in every direction.] These locomotive appendages are intimately connected with the circulating tubes, as we shall see when we examine the structural details of these animals, so that in them also breathing and moving are in direct relation to each other. To those unaccustomed to the comparison of functions in animals, the use of the word breathing, as applied to the introduction of water into the body, may seem inappropriate, but it is by the absorption of aerated water that these lower animals receive that amount of oxygen into the system, as necessary to the maintenance of life in them, as a greater supply is to the higher animals. The name of Ctenophoræ or comb-bearers, is derived from these rows of tiny paddles which have been called combs by some naturalists, because they are set upon horizontal bands of muscles, see Fig. 29, reminding one of the base of a comb, while the fringes are compared to its teeth. These flappers add greatly to the beauty of these animals, for a variety of brilliant hues is produced along each row by the decomposition of the rays of light upon them when in motion. They give off all the prismatic colors, and as the combs are exceedingly small, so that at first sight one hardly distinguishes them from the disk itself, the exquisite play of color, rippling in regular lines over the surface of the animal, seems at first to have no external cause. _Pleurobrachia_. (_Pleurobrachia rhododactyla Ag_.) [Illustration: Fig. 27. Pleurobrachia seen at right angles to the plane in which the tentacles are placed. (_Agassiz_.)] Among the most graceful and attractive of these animals are the Pleurobrachia (Fig. 29), and, though not first in order, we will give it the precedence in our description, because it will serve to illustrate some features of the other two groups. The body of the Pleurobrachia consists of a transparent sphere, varying, however, from the perfect sphere in being somewhat oblong, and also by a slight compression on two opposite sides (Figs. 27 and 28), so as to render its horizontal diameter longer in one direction than in the other (Fig. 30). This divergence from the globular form, so slight in Pleurobrachia as to be hardly perceptible to the casual observer, establishing two diameters of different lengths at right angles with each other, is equally true of the other genera. It is interesting and important, as showing the tendency in this highest group of Acalephs to assume a bilateral character. This bilaterality becomes still more marked in the highest class of Radiates, the Echinoderms. Such structural tendencies in the lower animals, hinting at laws to be more fully developed in the higher forms, are always significant, as showing the intimate relation between all parts of the plan of creation. This inequality of the diameters is connected with the disposition of parts in the whole structure, the locomotive fringes and the vertical tubes connected with them being arranged in sets of four on either side of a plane passing through the longer diameter, showing thus a tendency toward the establishment of a right and left side of the body, instead of the perfectly equal disposition of parts around a common centre, as in the lower Radiates. [Illustration: Fig. 28. Pleurobrachia seen in plane of tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] The Pleurobrachia are so transparent, that, with some preparatory explanation of their structure, the most unscientific observer may trace the relation of parts in them. At one end of the sphere is the transverse split (Fig. 27), that serves them as a mouth; at the opposite pole is a small circumscribed area, in the centre of which is a dark eye-speck. The eight rows of locomotive fringes run from pole to pole, dividing the whole surface of the body like the ribs on a melon. (Figs. 27, 28.) Hanging from either side of the body, a little above the area in which the eye-speck is placed, are two most extraordinary appendages in the shape of long tentacles, possessing such wonderful power of extension and contraction that, while at one moment they may be knotted into a little compact mass no bigger than a pin's head, drawn up close against the side of the body, or hidden within it, the next instant they may be floating behind it in various positions to a distance of half a yard and more, putting out at the same time soft plumy fringes (Fig. 29) along one side, like the beard of a feather. One who has never seen these animals may well be pardoned for doubting even the most literal and matter-of-fact account of these singular tentacles. There is no variety of curve or spiral that does not seem to be represented in their evolutions. Sometimes they unfold gradually, creeping out softly and slowly from a state of contraction, or again the little ball, hardly perceptible against the side of the body, drops suddenly to the bottom of the tank in which the animal floating, and one thinks for a moment, so slight is the thread-like attachment, that it has actually fallen from the body; but watch a little longer, and all the filaments spread out along the side of the thread, it expands to its full length and breadth, and resumes all its graceful evolutions. [Illustration: Fig. 29. Natural attitude of Pleurobrachia when in motion.] [Illustration: Fig. 30. Pleurobrachia seen from the extremity opposite the mouth.] One word of the internal structure of these animals, to explain its relation to the external appendages. The mouth opens into a wide digestive cavity (Figs. 27, 28), enclosed between two vertical tubes. Toward the opposite end of the body these tubes terminate or unite in a single funnel-like canal, which is a reservoir as it were for the circulating fluid poured into it through an opening in the bottom of the digestive cavity. The food in the digestive cavity becomes liquefied by mingling with the water entering with it at the mouth, and, thus prepared, it passes into this canal, from which, as we shall presently see, all the circulating tubes ramifying throughout the body are fed. Two of these circulating tubes, or, as they are called from the nature of the liquid they contain, chymiferous tubes, are very large, starting horizontally and at right angles with the digestive cavity from the point of junction between the vertical tubes (Fig. 30) and the canal. Presently they give off two branches, those again ramifying in two directions as they approach the periphery, so that each one of the first main tubes has multiplied to four, before its ramifications reach the surface, thus making in all eight radiating tubes. So far, these eight tubes are horizontal, all diverging on the same level; but as they reach the periphery each one gives rise to a vertical tube, running along the surface of the body from pole to pole, just within the rows of locomotive fringes on the outer surface, and immediately connected with them (Figs. 27, 28). As in all the Ctenophoræ, these fringes keep up a constant play of color by their rapid vibrations. In Pleurobrachia the prevailing tint is a yellowish pink, though it varies to green, red, and purple, with the changing motions of the animal. We have seen that the vertical tubes between which the digestive cavity is enclosed, start like the cavity itself from that pole of the body where the mouth is placed, and that, as they approach the opposite pole, at a distance from the mouth of about two thirds the whole length of the body, they unite in the canal, which then extends to the other pole where the eye-speck is placed. As it is just at this point of juncture between the tubes and the canal that the two main horizontal tubes arise from which all the others branch on the same plane (Figs. 27, 28), it follows that they reach the periphery, not on a level with the pole opposite the mouth, but removed from it by about one third the height of the body. In consequence of this the eight vertical tubes arising from the horizontal ones, in order to run the entire length of the body from pole to pole, extend in opposite directions, sending a branch to each pole, though the branch running toward the mouth is of course the longer of the two. The tentacles have their roots in two sacs within the body, placed at right angles with the split of the mouth. (Figs. 27, 30.) They open at the surface on the opposite side from the mouth, though not immediately within the area at which the eye-speck is placed, but somewhat above it, and at a little distance on either side of it. The tentacles may be drawn completely within these sacs, or be extended outside, as we have seen, to a greater or less degree, and in every variety of curve or spiral. _Bolina_. (_Bolina alata_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 31. Bolina seen from the broad side; _o_ eye-speck, _m_ mouth, _r_ auricles, _v_ digestive cavity, _g_ _h_ short rows of flappers, _a_ _f_ long rows of flappers, _n_ _x_ _t_ _z_ tubes winding in the larger lobes; about half natural size. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 32. Bolina seen from the narrow side; _c_ _h_ short rows of flappers, _a_ _b_ long rows of flappers; other letters as in Fig. 31. (_Agassiz_.)] The Bolina (Fig 32), like the Pleurobrachia, is slightly oval in form, with a longitudinal split at one end of the body, forming a mouth which opens into a capacious sac or digestive cavity. But it differs from the Pleurobrachia in having the oral end of the body split into two larger lobes (Fig. 31), hanging down from the mouth. These lobes may gape widely, or they may close completely over the mouth so as to hide it from view, and their different aspects under various degrees of expansion or contraction account for the discrepancies in the description of these animals. We have seen that the Pleurobrachia moves with the mouth upward; but the Bolina, on the contrary, usually carries the mouth downward, though it occasionally reverses its position, and in this attitude, with the lobes spread open, it is exceedingly graceful in form, and looks like a white flower with the crown fully expanded. These broad lobes are balanced on the other sides of the body by four smaller appendages, divided in pairs, two on each side (Fig. 32), called auricles. These so-called auricles are in fact organs of the same kind as the larger lobes, though less developed. The rows of locomotive flappers on the Bolina differ in length from each other (Fig. 31), instead of being equal, as in the Pleurobrachia. The four longest ones are opposite each other on those sides of the body where the larger lobes are developed, the four short ones being in pairs on the sides where the auricles are placed. At first sight they all seem to terminate at the margin of the body, but a closer examination shows that the circulating tubes connected with the longer row extend into the lobes, where they wind about in a variety of complicated involutions. (Fig. 32.) The movements of the Bolina are more sluggish than those of the Pleurobrachia, and the long tentacles, so graceful an ornament to the latter, are wanting in the former. With these exceptions the description given above of the Pleurobrachia will serve equally well for the Bolina. The structure is the same in all essential points, though it differs in the size and proportion of certain external features, and its play of color is less brilliant than that of the Pleurobrachia. The Bolina, with its slow, undulating motion, its broad lobes sometimes spreading widely, at other times folded over the mouth, its delicacy of tint and texture, and its rows of vibrating fringes along the surface, is nevertheless a very beautiful object, and well rewards the extreme care without which it dies at once in confinement. _Idyia_. (_Idyia roseola_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 33. Idyia roseola seen from the broad side, half natural size; _a_ anal opening, _b_ lateral tube, _c_ circular tube, _d_ _e_ _f_ _g_ _h_ rows of locomotive flappers. (_Agassiz_.)] The lowest genus of Ctenophoræ found on our coast, the Idyia (Fig. 33), has neither the tentacles of the Pleurobrachia, nor the lobes of the Bolina. It is a simple ovate sphere, the interior of which is almost entirely occupied by an immense digestive cavity. It would seem that the reception and digestion of food is intended to be the almost exclusive function of this animal, for it has a mouth whose ample dimensions correspond with its capacious stomach. Instead of the longitudinal split serving as a mouth, in the Bolina and Pleurobrachia, one end of the body in the Idyia is completely open (Fig. 33), so that occasionally some unsuspicious victim of smaller diameter than itself may be seen to swim into this wide portal, when suddenly the door closes behind him with a quick contraction, and he finds himself a prisoner. The Idyia does not always obtain its food after this indolent fashion however, for it often attacks a Bolina or Pleurobrachia as large or even larger than itself, when it extends its mouth to the utmost, slowly overlapping the prey it is trying to swallow by frequent and repeated contractions, and even cutting off by the same process such portions as cannot be forced into the digestive cavity. The general internal structure of the Idyia corresponds with that of the Bolina and Pleurobrachia; it has the same tubes branching horizontally from the main cavity, then ramifying as they approach the periphery till they are multiplied to eight in all, each of which gives off one of the vertical tubes connected with the eight rows of locomotive flappers. Opposite the mouth is the eye-speck, placed as in the two other genera, at the centre of a small circumscribed area, which in the Idyia is surrounded by delicate fringes, forming a rosette at this end of the body. These animals are exceedingly brilliant in color; bright pink is their prevailing hue, though pink, red, yellow, orange, green, and purple, sometimes chase each other in quick succession along their locomotive fringes. At certain seasons, when most numerous, they even give a rosy tinge to patches on the surface of the sea. Their color is brightest and deepest before the spawning season, but as this advances, and the ovaries and spermaries are emptied, they grow paler, retaining at last only a faint pink tint. They appear early in July, rapidly attain their maximum size, and are most numerous during the first half of August. Toward the end of August they spawn, and the adults are usually destroyed by the early September storms, the young disappearing at the same time, not to be seen again till the next summer. It is an interesting question, not yet solved, to know what becomes of the summer's brood in the following winter. They probably sink into deep waters during this intervening period. The Idyia, like the Pleurobrachia, moves with the mouth upward, but inclined slightly forward also, so as to give an oblique direction to the axis of the body.[4] [Footnote 4: Until this summer only the three genera of Ctenophoræ above mentioned were supposed to exist along our coast, but during the present season I have had the good fortune to find two additional ones. One of them, the Lesueuria, resembles a Bolina with the long lobes so cut off, that they have a very stunted appearance in comparison with those of the Bolina. The other, the Mertensia, is closely allied to Pleurobrachia; it is exceedingly flattened and pear-shaped. This species was discovered long ago by Fabricius, but had escaped thus far the attention of other naturalists. (_A. Agassiz_.)] EMBRYOLOGY OF CTENOPHORÆ. All the Ctenophoræ are reproduced from eggs, these eggs being so transparent that one may follow with comparative ease the changes undergone by the young while still within the egg envelope. Unfortunately, however, they are so delicate that it is impossible to keep them alive for any length of time, even by supplying them constantly with fresh sea-water, and keeping them continually in motion, both of which are essential conditions to their existence. It is therefore only from eggs accidentally fished up at different stages of growth that we may hope to ascertain any facts respecting the sequence of their development. When hatched, the little Ctenophore is already quite advanced. It is small when compared with the size of the egg envelope, and long before it is set free, it swims about with great velocity within the walls of its diminutive prison (Fig. 35). The importance of studying the young stages of animals can hardly find a better illustration than among the Ctenophoræ. Before their extraordinary embryonic changes were understood, many of the younger forms had found their way into our scientific annals as distinct animals, and our nomenclature thus became burdened with long lists of names which will disappear as our knowledge advances. The great size of their locomotive flappers in proportion to the rest of the body, is characteristic of the young Ctenophoræ. They seem like large paddles on the sides of these tiny transparent spheres, and, owing to their great power as compared with those of the adult, the young move with extraordinary rapidity. The Pleurobrachia alone retains its quickness of motion in after life, and although its long graceful streamers appear only as short stumpy tentacles in the young (Fig. 34), yet its active little body would be more easily recognized in the earlier stages of growth than that of the other Ctenophoræ. Figs. 34, 35, and 36 show the Pleurobrachia at various stages of growth; Fig. 34, with its thick stunted tentacles and short rows of flappers, is the youngest; the flappers themselves are rather long at this age, looking more like stiff hairs than like the minute fringes of the adult. In Fig. 35 the tentacles are already considerably longer and more delicate; in Fig. 36 the vertical tubes are already completed, while Figs. 27-29 present it in its adult condition. [Illustration: Fig. 34. Young Pleurobrachia still in the egg; _t_ tentacle, _e_ eye-speck, _c_ _c_ rows of locomotive flappers, _d_ digestive cavity; greatly magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 35. Young Pleurobrachia swimming about in the egg just before hatching; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 36. Young Pleurobrachia resembling somewhat the adult; _f_ funnel leading to anal opening, _l_ lateral tubes, _o_ _o_ _o'_ _o'_ rows of locomotive flappers; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 37. Young Idyia, greatly magnified; lettering as in Fig. 36; _d_ digestive cavity.] The Idyia differs greatly in appearance at different periods of its development, and, indeed, no one would suspect, without some previous knowledge of its transformations, that the young Idyia, with its rapid gyrations, its short ambulacral tubes, like immense pouches (Fig. 37), its large pigment spots scattered over the surface (Fig. 38), was an earlier stage of the rosy-hued Idyia, which glides through the water with a scarcely perceptible motion. Figs. 37-40 represent the various stages of its growth. It will be seen how very short are the locomotive fringes (Fig. 39) in comparison with those of the full-grown ones (Fig. 33). It is only in the adult Idyia that these rows attain their full height, and the tubes, ramifying throughout the body (Fig. 40), are completed. [Illustration: Fig. 38. Young Idyia seen from the anal extremity, magnified; _a_ anal opening, other letters as in Fig. 36.] [Illustration: Fig. 39. Idyia somewhat older than Fig. 37, lettering as before; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 40. Young Idyia in which the ambulacral tubes begin to ramify; magnified, letters as before.] The Bolina, in its early condition, recalls the young Pleurobrachia. At this period it has the same rapid motion, and when somewhat more advanced, long tentacles, resembling those of the Pleurobrachia, make their appearance (Fig. 41); it is only at a later period that the tentacles become contracted, while the large lobes (Fig. 42), so characteristic of Bolina, are formed by the elongation of the oral end of the body, the auricles becoming more conspicuous at the same time (Fig. 43). A little later the lobes enlarge, the movements become more lazy; it assumes both in form and habits the character of the adult Bolina. [Illustration: Fig. 41. Young Bolina in stage resembling Pleurobrachia; greatly magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 42. Young Bolina seen from the broad side, with rudimentary auricles and lobes; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 43. The same as Fig. 42, seen from the narrow side.] The series of changes through which the Ctenophoræ pass are as remarkable as any we shall have occasion to describe, though not accompanied with such absolutely different conditions of existence. The comparison of the earlier stages of life in these animals with their adult condition is important, not only with reference to their mode of development, but also because it gives us some insight into the relative standing of the different groups, since it shows us that certain features, permanent in the lower groups, are transient in the higher ones. A striking instance of this occurs in the fact mentioned above, that though the long tentacles so characteristic of the adult Pleurobrachia exist in the young Bolina, they yield in importance at a later period to the lobes which eventually become the predominant and characteristic feature of the latter. * * * * * DISCOPHORÆ. The disk of the Discophoræ is by no means so delicate as that of the other Jelly-fishes. It seems indeed quite solid, and somewhat like cartilage to the touch, and yet so large a part of its bulk consists of water, that a Cyanea, weighing when alive about thirty-four pounds, being left to dry in the sun for some days, was found to have lost about 99/100 of its original weight,--only the merest film remaining on the paper upon which it had been laid. The prominence of the disk in this group of Jelly-fishes is well characterized by their German name, "Scheiben quallen," viz. disk-medusæ. We shall see hereafter that the disk, so large and seemingly solid in the Discophoræ, thins out in many of the other Jelly-fishes, and becomes exceedingly concave. This is especially the case in many of the Hydroid Medusæ, where it assumes a bell-shaped form, and is constantly spoken of as the bell. It should be remembered, however, in reading descriptions of these animals, that the so-called bell is only a modified disk, and perfectly homologous with that organ in the Discophoræ. The Discophorous Medusæ are distinguished from all others by the peculiar nature of the reproductive organs. They are contained in pouches (Fig. 50, _o_, _o_, _o_, _o_), the contents of which are first discharged into the main cavity, and then pass out through the mouth. Pillars support the four angles of the digestive cavity, thus separating the lower from the upper floor of the disk, while the chymiferous tubes (Fig. 50) branch and run into each other near the periphery, forming a more or less complicated anastomosing network, instead of a simple circular tube, as is the case with the Hydroid Medusæ. (Fig. 74.) _Cyanea_. (_Cyanea arctica_ PÉR. et LES.) In our descriptions of the Discophoræ, we may give the precedence to the Cyanea on account of its size. This giant among Jelly-fishes is represented in Fig. 44. It is much to be regretted that these animals, when they are not so small as to escape attention altogether, are usually seen out of their native element, thrown dead or dying on the shore, a mass of decaying gelatinous matter. All persons who have lived near the sea are familiar with the so-called Sea-blubbers, sometimes strewing the sandy beaches after the autumn storms in such numbers that it is difficult to avoid them in walking or driving. In such a condition the Cyanea is far from being an attractive object; to form an idea of his true appearance, one must meet him as he swims along at midday, rather lazily withal, his huge semi-transparent disk, with its flexible lobed margin, glittering in the sun, and his tentacles floating to a distance of many yards behind him. Encountering one of those huge Jelly-fishes, when out in a row-boat one day, we attempted to make a rough measurement of his dimensions upon the spot. He was lying quietly near the surface, and did not seem in the least disturbed by the proceeding, but allowed the oar, eight feet in length, to be laid across the disk, which proved to be about seven feet in diameter. Backing the boat slowly along the line of the tentacles, which were floating at their utmost extension behind him, we then measured these in the same manner, and found them to be rather more than fourteen times the length of the oar, thus covering a space of some hundred and twelve feet. This sounds so marvellous that it may be taken as an exaggeration; but though such an estimate could not of course be absolutely accurate, yet the facts are rather understated than overstated in the dimensions here given. And, indeed, the observation was more careful and precise than the circumstances would lead one to suppose, for the creature lay as quietly, while his measure was taken, as if he had intended to give every facility for the operation. This specimen was, however, of unusual size; they more commonly measure from three to five feet across the disk, while the tentacles may be thirty or forty feet long. The tentacles are exceedingly numerous (see Fig. 44), arising in eight distinct bunches, from the margin of the disk, and hanging down in a complete labyrinth. These animals are not so harmless as it would seem, from their soft, gelatinous consistency; it is no pleasant thing when swimming or bathing to become entangled in this forest of fine feelers, for they have a stinging property like nettles, and may render a person almost insensible, partly from pain, and partly from a numbness produced by their contact, before he is able to free himself from the network in which he is caught. The weapons by which they produce these results seem so insignificant, that one cannot but wonder at their power. The tentacles are covered by minute cells, lasso-cells as they are called, (similar to those of Astrangia, Fig. 19,) each one of which contains a whip finer than the finest thread, coiled in a spiral within it. [Illustration: Fig. 44. Cyanea arctica; greatly reduced in size.] These myriad whips can be thrown out at the will of the animal, and really form an efficient galvanic battery. Behind the veil of tentacles, and partly hidden by it, four curtains, with lobed or ruffled margins, dimly seen in Fig. 44, hang down from the under surface of the disk. The ovaries are formed by four pendent pouches, placed near the sides of the mouth, and attached to four cavities within the disk. Around the circumference of the disk are eight eye-specks, each formed by a small tube protected under a little lappet or hood rising from the upper surface of the disk. The prevailing color of this huge Jelly-fish is a dark brownish-red, with a light, milk-white margin, tinged with blue, the tentacles and other pendent appendages having a somewhat different hue from the disk. The ovaries are flesh-colored, the curtain formed by the expansion of the lobes of the mouth is dark brown, while the tentacles are of different colors, some being yellow, others purple, and others reddish brown or pink. [Illustration: Fig. 45. Scyphistoma of a Discophore; Aurelia flavidula. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 47. Strobila of a Discophore; Aurelia flavidula. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 46. Scyphistoma, older than Fig. 45. (_Agassiz_.)] Strange to say, this gigantic Discophore is produced by a Hydroid measuring not more than half an inch in height when full grown; could we follow the history of any egg laid by one of these Discophoræ in the autumn, and this has indeed been partially done, we should see that, like any other planula, the young hatched from the egg is at first spherical, but presently becomes pear-shaped, and attaches itself to the ground. From the upper end tentacles project (see Fig. 45), growing more numerous, as in Fig. 46, though they never exceed sixteen in number. As it increases in height constrictions take place at different distances along its length, every such constriction being lobed around its margin, till at last it looks like a pile of scalloped saucers or disks strung together (see Fig. 47). The topmost of these disks falls off and dies; but all the others separate by the deepening of the constrictions, and swim off as little free disks (Fig. 48), which eventually grow into the enormous Jelly-fish described above. These three phases of growth, before the relation between them was understood, have been mistaken for distinct animals, and described as such under the names of Scyphistoma, Strobila, and Ephyra. [Illustration: Fig. 48. Ephyra of a Discophore; Aurelia flavidula. (_Agassiz_.)] _Aurelia_. (_Aurelia flavidula_ PÉR. et LES.) [Illustration: Fig. 49. Aurelia seen in profile, reduced. (_Agassiz_.)] Another large Discophore, though by no means to be compared to the Cyanea in size, is our common Aurelia (Figs. 49, 50) Its bluish-white disk measures from twelve to fifteen inches in diameter, but its dimensions are not increased by the tentacles, which have no great power of contraction and expansion, and form a short fringe around its margin, widening and narrowing slightly as the tentacles are stretched or drawn in. It is quite transparent, as may be seen in Fig 49, where all the fine ramifications of the chymiferous tubes as well as the ovaries, are seen through the vault of the disk. Fig. 50 represents the upper surface, with the ovaries around the mouth, occupying the same position as those of the Cyanea, though they differ from the latter in their greater rigidity, and do not hang down in the form of pouches. The males and females in this kind of Jelly-fish may be distinguished by the difference of color in the reproductive organs, which are rose-colored in the males, and of a dull yellow in the females. The process of development is exactly the same in the Aurelia as in the Cyanea, though there is a very slight difference in their respective Hydroids. They are, however, so much alike, that one is here made to serve for both, the above figures being taken from the Hydroid of the Aurelia. It is curious, that while, as in the case of the Aurelia and Cyanea, very dissimilar Jelly-fishes may arise from almost identical Hydroids, we have the reverse of the proposition, in the fact that Hydroids of an entirely distinct character may produce similar Jelly-fishes. [Illustration: Fig. 50. Aurelia flavidula, seen from above; _o_ mouth, _e e e e_ eyes, _m m m m_ lobes of the mouth, _o o o o_ ovaries, _t t t t_ tentacles, _w w_ ramified tubes. (_Agassiz_.)] The embryos or little planulæ, hatched from the Cyanea and Aurelia in the fall, seem to be gregarious in their mode of life, swimming about together in great numbers till they find a suitable point of attachment, and assume their fixed Hydroid existence. The Cyaneæ, however, when adult, are usually found singly, while the Aureliæ, on the contrary, seek each other, and commonly herd together. _The Campanella_. (_Campanella pachyderma_ A. AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 51. Campanella seen in profile; greatly magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 52. Same, seen from below.] The Campanella (Fig. 51) is a pretty little Jelly-fish, not larger than a pin's head, reproduced directly from eggs, without passing through the Hydroid stage. During its early stages of growth it probably remains attached to floating animals, thus leading a kind of parasitic existence; but as its habits are not accurately known, this cannot be asserted as a constant fact respecting them. The veil in this Jelly-fish is very large, forming pendent pouches hanging from the circular canal (see Fig. 51), and leaving but just room enough for the passage of the proboscis between the folds. It may not be amiss to introduce here a general account of this organ, which occurs in many of the Medusæ, though it has very different proportions in the various kinds. It is a delicate membrane, hanging from the circular tube, so as partially to close the mouth of the bell, leaving a larger or smaller opening for the passage of the water, which is taken in and forced out again by the alternate expansions and contractions of the bell. There are but four chymiferous tubes in the Campanella, and four stiff tentacles, which in consequence of the peculiar character of the veil appear, when the animal is seen in profile, to start from the middle of the disk. The ovaries consist of eight pouches, placed near the point of junction of the four chymiferous tubes. (Fig. 52.) This little Medusa is of a dark yellowish color with brownish ocellated spots, scattered profusely over the upper part of the disk. _Circe_. (_Trachynema digitale_ A. AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 53. Trachynema digitale; about twice the natural size.] Among the Jelly-fishes, the position of which is somewhat doubtful, is the Circe (Fig. 53), differing greatly in outline from the ordinary Jelly-fishes. As may be seen in Figure 53, the bell forms but a small portion of the animal; it rises in a sharp cone on the summit, thinning out at the lower edge, to form the large cavity in which hangs the long proboscis and the eight ovaries, four of which may be seen in Fig. 53 crowded with eggs. The Circe differs in consistency, as well as in form, from other Jelly-fishes. It is hard and horny to the touch, and the veil, usually so light and filmy, is here a thick folded membrane, which at every stroke of the animal forces the water in and out of the cavity. It is very active, moving by powerful jerks, each one of which throws it far on its way. It advances usually in straight lines; or, if it wishes to change its direction, it drives the water out of the veil suddenly on one side or the other, so as to shoot off, sometimes at right angles with its former path. Four large pedunculated eyes, hidden in the figure by the tentacles, stand out prominently from the circular tube. When the animal is in motion, the tentacles are carried closely curled around the edge of the disk, as in Fig. 53, where the Circe is represented under a magnifying power of two and a half diameters. This Jelly-fish is of a delicate rose color, the tentacles assuming, however, a dark-purple tint at their extremities when contracted. _Lucernaria_. (_Haliclystus auricula_ CLARK.) [Illustration: Fig. 54. Group of Lucernaria attached to eel-grass; natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 55. Lucernaria seen from the mouth side.] One of the prettiest and most graceful, as well as one of the most common of our Jelly-fishes, is the Lucernaria (Fig. 54). It has such an extraordinary contractility of all its parts, that it is not easy to describe it under any definite form or position, since both are constantly changing; but perhaps of all its various attitudes and outlines none are more normal to it than those given in Fig. 54. It frequently raises itself in the upright position represented here by the individual highest on the stem, spreading itself in the form of a perfectly symmetrical cup or vase, the margin of which is indented by a succession of inverted scallops, the point of junction between every two scallops being crowned by a tuft of tentacles. But watch it for a while, and the sides of this vase turn backward, spreading completely open, till they present the whole inner surface, with the edges even curved a little downward, drooping slightly, and the proboscis rising in the centre. In such an attitude one may trace with ease the shape of the mouth, the lobes surrounding it, as well as the tubes and cavities radiating from it toward the margin. A touch is, however, sufficient to make it close upon itself, shrinking together in the attitude of the third individual in Fig. 54, or even drawing its tentacles completely in, and contracting all its parts till it looks like a little ball hanging on the stem. These are but a few of its manifold changes, for it may be seen in every phase of expansion and contraction. Let us now look for a moment at the details of its structure. The resemblance to a cup or vase, as in the upper figure of the wood-cut (Fig. 54), is deceptive; for a vase is hollow, whereas the Lucernaria, though so delicate and transparent that its upper surface, when thus stretched, seems like a mere film, is nevertheless a solid gelatinous mass, traversed by certain channels, cavities, and partitions, but otherwise continuous throughout. The peduncle by which it is attached is but an extension of the floor of a gelatinous disk, corresponding to that of any Jelly-fish. Four tubes pass through the whole length of this peduncle, and open into four chambers, dividing the digestive cavity above into as many equal spaces. (Fig. 55.) These spaces are produced by folds in the upper floor of the disk, uniting it to the lower floor at given distances, and forming so many partition-walls, dividing the digestive sac into four distinct cavities. These lines of juncture between the two floors, where the partitions occur, produce the four radiating lines, running from the proboscis to the margin of the disk, on the upper surface. (Fig. 55.) The triangular figures, running from the mouth to each cluster of tentacles, are produced by the ovaries, which consist of distinct pouches or bags attached to the upper surface of the disk, and hanging down into the cavities below; every little dot within these triangular spaces represents such a bag. Each bag is crowded with eggs, which drop into the digestive cavity at the spawning season, and are passed out at the mouth. The tentacles always grow in clusters, but are nevertheless arranged according to a regular order. They are club-shaped at their extremities, but are hollow throughout, opening into the chambers of the digestive cavity, two of the clusters thus being connected with each chamber. Their chief office seems to be to catch the food and convey it to the mouth, though they may also be used as a kind of suckers, and the animal not unfrequently attaches itself by means of these appendages. Between every two clusters of tentacles will be observed a short, single appendage, of an entirely different appearance. These are the so-called auricles, and though so unlike tentacles in the adult animal, when in their earlier stages (Fig. 56) they resemble each other closely. But as their development goes on, the tentacles stretch out into longer, more delicate flexible organs, while the auricles remain short and compact throughout life. They contain a slight pigment spot representing an eye, though how far it serves the purpose of vision remains doubtful. They are chiefly used by the animal as a means of adhering to any surface upon which it may wish to fasten itself; for the Lucernaria, though usually found attached to eel-grass in shoal water, has the power of independent motion, and frequently separates from its resting-place, floating about freely in the water for a while, or attaching itself anew by means of the auricles and tentacles upon some other object. The color of this pretty Acaleph varies from a greenish hue to green, with a faint tinge of red, or to a reddish brown. One of its commonest and most exquisite tints is that of a pale aqua-marine. It may be found along our shores wherever the eel-grass grows, and as far out as this plant extends. It thrives admirably in confinement, and for this reason is especially adapted to the aquarium. [Illustration: Fig. 56. Young Lucernaria; magnified.] * * * * * HYDROIDS. Under this order, the general character of which has already been explained in the introductory chapter on Acalephs, are included a number of groups which, whether as Hydroid communities in their earlier phases of existence, or as free swimming Medusæ in their farther development, challenge our admiration, both for their beauty of form and color, and their grace of motion. Some of them are so minute that they escape the observation of all but those who are laboriously seeking for the hidden treasures of the microscopic world, but the greater number are large enough to be readily found by the most inexperienced collector, when his attention is once drawn to them; and he may easily stock his aquarium with these pretty little communities, and even trace the development of the Jelly-fishes upon them. To the Hydroids belong the Campanularians, the Sertularians, and the Tubularians. Some examples of each, as represented on our shores, will be found under their different heads, accompanied with full descriptions. There is another group usually considered as distinct from Hydroids, and known as a separate order among Acalephs, under the name of Siphonophoræ, but included with them here in accordance with the views of Vogt, Agassiz, and others, in whose opinion they differ from the ordinary Hydroid communities only in being free and floating, instead of fixed to the ground. Some new facts, published here for the first time, tend to sustain the accuracy of this classification.[5] With these few preliminary remarks to show the connection of the order, let us now look at some of the animals belonging to it more in detail. [Footnote 5: See Chapter on Nanomia.] _Campanularians_. All the Campanularians, of which Oceania (Fig. 68), Clytia (Fig. 73), and Eucope (Fig. 61) form a part, belong among those little shrub-like communities of animals called Hydroids, from which most of our Jelly-fishes are developed. They differ in one essential feature from the Tubularians. (Fig. 93.) The whole stem, from summit to base, is enveloped in a horny sheath, extending around both the fertile and sterile individuals of the community, and forming a network at the base of the stem, which serves as a kind of foundation for the whole stock. To the naked eye such a community looks like a tiny shrub (see Fig. 57), with the branches growing in regular alternation on either side of the stems. The reproductive calycles, i.e. the protecting envelopes covering the young Medusæ, usually arise in the angles of the branches formed by a prolongation of the sheath. These calycles or bells, as they are called, assume a great variety of shapes,--elliptical, round, pear-shaped, or ringed like the Clytia. (Fig. 72.) In one such bell there may be no less than twenty or thirty Medusæ developed one below the other; when ready to hatch, the calycle bursts and allows them to escape. _Eucope_. (_Eucope diaphana_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 57. Hydrarium of Eucope; natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 58. Portion of Fig. 57; magnified.] In Figs. 60 and 61 we have a representation of our little Eucope, one of the prettiest of the Jelly-fishes belonging to this group; Fig. 57 represents the Hydroid from which it arises; a single branch with the reproductive bell being magnified in Fig. 58. In Fig. 59 is seen a portion of the Jelly-fish disk, with the fringe of tentacles highly magnified. The disk of the Eucope (Fig. 60) looks like a shallow bell, of which the proboscis often seems to form the handle; for the disk has such an extraordinary thinness that it turns inside out with the greatest ease, so that the inner surface may become at any moment the outer one, with the proboscis projecting from it, as in Fig. 60, while the next movement of the animal may reverse its whole position, and the proboscis then hangs down from the inside, as in other Jelly-fishes. (See Fig. 61.) [Illustration: Fig. 59. Part of marginal tube and tentacles of Eucope, greatly magnified; _e_ eye-speck, _b_ base of tentacle., _r_ reentering base of tentacle.] [Illustration: Fig. 60. Young Eucope; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 61. Adult Eucope seen in profile; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 62. Quarter disk of Fig. 60, seen from below; _e e_ tentacles bearing eye-speck.] The tentacles are solid and stiff like little hairs, and two of them, in each quarter-segment of the disk, have small concretions at the base, which are no doubt eye-specks. (See Fig. 62.) Along the chymiferous tubes little swellings are developed, which increase gradually, and become either ovaries or spermaries, according to the sex of the animal. (Fig. 63.) In the adult the genital organs hang down, like elongated bags, from the chymiferous tubes. (Fig. 64.) The tentacles are numerous, multiplying to about a hundred and ninety-two in the adult, and increasing according to the numerical law to be explained in the description of the Oceania. [Illustration: Fig. 63. Quarter-disk of young Eucope, older than Fig. 62, with a second set of tentacles (2) between the first set (1).] [Illustration: Fig. 64. Magnified quarter-disk of adult Eucope.] This little Jelly-fish is one of the most common in our Bay. There is not a night or day when they cannot be taken in large numbers, from the early spring till late in the autumn; and as the breeding season lasts during the whole of that period, they are found in all possible stages of growth. In consequence of this, the course of their development, and the relation between the different phases of their existence as Hydroids, and afterwards as Acalephs, are well known, though the successive steps of their growth have not been traced connectedly, as in some of the other Jelly-fishes, the Tima or Melicertum, for instance. The process is, however, so similar throughout the class of Hydroids, that, having followed it from beginning to end in some of the groups, we have the key to the history of others, whose development has not been so fully traced. The eggs laid by the Eucope in the autumn develop into planulæ, which acquire their full size as Hydroid communities toward the close of the winter, and the development of the young Medusæ upon them, as described above, begins with the opening spring. _Oceania_. (_Oceania languida_ A. AG.) The Oceania (Fig. 68) is so delicate and unsubstantial, that with the naked eye one perceives it only by the more prominent outlines of its structure. We may see the outline of the disk, but not the disk itself; we may trace the four faint thread-like lines produced by the radiating tubes traversing the disk from the summit to the margin; and we may perceive, with far more distinctness, the four ovaries attached to these tubes near their base; we may see also the circular tube uniting the radiating tubes, and the tentacles hanging from it, and we can detect the edge of the filmy veil that fringes the margin of the disk. But the substance connecting all these organs is not to be distinguished from the element in which it floats, and the whole structure looks like a slight web of threads in the water, without our being able to discern by what means they are held together. Under the microscope, however, the invisible presently becomes visible, and we find that this Jelly-fish, like all others, has a solid gelatinous disk. [Illustration: Fig. 65. Young Oceania just escaped from its reproductive calycle; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 66. The same as Fig. 65, from below, still more magnified; _t_ long tentacles., _t'_ rudimentary tentacle, _e_ eye-speck on each side of base of tentacles.] [Illustration: Fig. 67. Young Oceania, older than Fig. 65; magnified.] [Illustration: Diagram of succession of tentacles.] Let us begin with its earlier condition. When it first escapes from the parent Hydroid stock, the Oceania is almost spherical in form. (See Fig. 65.) The disk is divided by four chymiferous tubes, running from the summit to the margin, where they meet the circular tube in which they all unite. At this time, it has but two well-developed tentacles, opposite each other on the margin of the disk, just at the base of two of the chymiferous tubes (Fig. 66), while two others are just discernible in a rudimentary state, forming slight projections at the base of the two other tubes. Fig. 66 gives a view of the animal from below, at this stage of its growth, while Fig. 65 shows it in profile. It will be seen by the latter how very spherical is the outline of the disk at this period, while the proboscis, in which are placed the mouth and digestive cavity, is quite long, and hangs down considerably below the lower surface of the disk. As the animal advances in age the disk loses its spherical outline, and becomes much flattened, as may be seen in Fig. 67. It may be well to introduce here some explanation of the law according to which the different sets of tentacles follow each other in successive cycles of growth, since it is a law of almost universal application in Jelly-fishes and Polyps; and, owing to the smaller number and simpler arrangement of the tentacles in Oceania, it may be more easily analyzed in them than in many others, where the number and complication of the different sets of tentacles make it very difficult to trace their relation to each other during their successive growth. We have seen that the Oceania begins life with only two tentacles. These form the first set, and are marked with the number 1 in the subjoined diagram, which gives the plan of all the different sets in their regular order. The second set, marked 2, consists also of two, which are developed at equal distances between the first two, i.e. at right angles with them. The third set, however, marked 3, consists of four, as do all the succeeding sets, and they are developed between the first and second. The fourth set comes in between the first and third; the fifth between the third and second; the sixth between the first and fourth; the seventh between the fifth and second; the eighth between the third and fourth; the ninth between the fifth and third. The ultimate number of tentacles in the Oceania is thirty-two, or sometimes thirty-six, and the cycles always in twos or multiples of two. But whatever be the number included in the successive sets of tentacles, and the unit for the first set ranges from two to forty-eight, the law in different kinds of Jelly-fishes is always the same, the youngest set always forming between the oldest preceding set. Thus the fourth set comes in between the first and third, and the fifth between the second and third, the intervals occupied now by the fourth set, being limited by the first set of tentacles on one side, and by the third set on the other side, while the intervals occupied by the fifth set are bounded by the second and third sets. [Illustration: Fig. 68. Adult Oceania; natural size.] The little spheres represented between the tentacles on the margin of the disk, in Figs. 65-67, are eye-specks, and these continue to increase in number with age; in this the Oceania differs from the Eucope, in which it will be remembered there were but two eye-specks in each quarter-segment of the disk throughout life. Fig. 68 represents the adult Oceania in full size, when it averages from an inch and a half to two inches in diameter. It is slow and languid in its movements, coming to the surface only in the hottest hours of the summer days; at such times it basks in the sun, turning lazily about, and dragging its tentacles after it with seeming effort. Sometimes it remains for hours suspended in the water, not moving even its tentacles, and offering a striking contrast to its former great activity when young, and to the lively little Eucope, which darts through the water at full speed, hardly stopping to rest for a moment. If the Oceania be disturbed it flattens its disk, and folds itself up somewhat in the shape of a bale (see Fig. 69), remaining perfectly still, with the tentacles stretching in every direction. When the cause of alarm is removed, it gently expands again, resuming its natural outline and indolent attitudes. The number of these animals is amazing. At certain seasons, when the weather is favorable, the surface of the sea may be covered with them, for several miles, so thickly that their disks touch each other. Thus they remain packed together in a dense mass, allowing themselves to be gently drifted along by the tide till the sun loses its intensity, when they retire to deeper waters. Some points, not yet observed, are still wanting to complete the history of this Jelly-fish. By comparing such facts, however, as are already collected respecting it, with our fuller knowledge of the same process of growth in the Eucope, Tima, and Melicertum, we may form a tolerably correct idea of its development. It is hatched from a Campanularia. [Illustration: Fig. 69. Attitude assumed by Oceania when disturbed.] _Clytia_. (_Clytia bicophora_ AG.) In Figs. 70-73 we have the Acalephian and Hydroid stages of the Clytia (Fig. 73), another very pretty little Jelly-fish, closely allied to the Oceania. When first hatched, like the Oceania, it is very convex, almost thimble-shaped (see Fig. 70), but a little later the disk flattens and becomes more open, as in Fig. 71. In Fig. 72, we have a branch of the Hydroid, a Campanularia, greatly magnified, with the annulated reproductive calycle attached to it, and crowded with Jelly-fishes ready to make their escape as soon as the calycle bursts. The adult Clytia (Fig. 73) is somewhat smaller and more active than the Oceania, and is easily recognized by the black base of its tentacles, at their point of juncture with the margin of the disk. It is more commonly found at night, than in the day-time, being nocturnal in its habits. [Illustration: Fig. 70. Young Clytia just escaped from the reproductive calycle.] [Illustration: Fig. 71. Clytia somewhat older than Fig. 70.] [Illustration: Fig. 72. Magnified portion of Hydrarium of Clytia.] [Illustration: Fig. 73. Adult Clytia; twice natural size.] _Zygodactyla_. (_Zygodactyla groenlandica_ AG.) Little has been known, and still less published, of this remarkable genus of Jelly-fish (Figs. 74, 75) up to the present time. The name Zygodactyla, or Twinfinger, was given to it by Brandt, from drawings made by Mertens, who had some opportunity of studying it in his journey around the world. These drawings were published in the Transactions of the St. Petersburg Academy. In the year 1848 Professor Agassiz read a paper upon one of the species of this genus belonging to our coast, before the American Academy, in which he called it Rhacostoma, not being aware that it had already received a name, and gave some account of its extraordinary phosphorescent properties. The name Rhacostoma must of course yield to that of Zygodactyla, which has a prior claim. [Illustration: Fig. 74. Zygodactyla seen from above.] The average size of this Jelly-fish when full grown is from seven to eight inches in diameter; sometimes it may measure even ten or eleven, but this is rather rare. The light-violet colored disk is exceedingly delicate and transparent, its edge being fringed with long fibrous tentacles, tinged with darker violet at their point of juncture with the disk, and hanging down a yard and more when fully extended, though they vary in length according to the size of the specimen, and, in consequence of their contractile power, may seem much shorter at some moments than at others. The radiating tubes in this Jelly-fish are exceedingly numerous, the whole inner surface of the disk being ribbed with them. (See Figs. 74 and 75.) The ovaries follow the length of the tubes, though they do not extend quite to their extremity, where they join the circular tube around the margin of the disk; nor do they start exactly at the point where the tubes diverge from the central cavity, but a little below it. (Fig. 74.) Each ovary consists of a long, brownish, flat bag, split along the middle, so closely folded together that it seems like a flat blade attached along the length of the tube. Perhaps a better comparison would be to a pea-pod greatly elongated, with the edges split along their line of juncture, and attached to a tube of the same length. The ovaries are not perfectly straight, but slightly waving, as may be seen in Fig. 74, and these undulations are stronger when the ovaries are crowded with eggs, as is the case at the time of spawning. [Illustration: Fig. 75. Zygodactyla seen in profile.] The large digestive cavity hangs from the centre of the under side of the disk (Fig. 75), terminating in the proboscis, which, in this kind of Jelly-fish, is short in proportion to the diameter of the disk, while the opening of the mouth is very large. (Fig. 74.) It is unfortunate that a variety of inappropriate names, likely to mislead rather than aid the unscientific observer, have been applied to different parts of the Jelly-fish. What we call here digestive cavity, proboscis, and mouth, are, in fact, parts of one organ. An exceedingly delicate, transparent, filmy membrane hangs from the under side of the disk; that membrane forms the outer wall of the digestive cavity, which it encloses; it narrows toward its lower margin, leaving open the circular aperture called the mouth; this narrowing of the membrane is produced by a number of folds in its lower part, while at its margin these folds spread out to form ruffles around the edge of the mouth, and these ruffles again extend into the long scalloped fringes hanging down below. The motion of these Jelly-fishes is very slow and sluggish. Like all their kind, they move by the alternate dilatation and contraction of the disk, but in the Zygodactyla these undulations have a certain graceful indolence, very unlike the more rapid movements of many of the Medusæ. It often remains quite motionless for a long time, and then, if you try to excite it by disturbing the water in the tank, or by touching it, it heaves a slow, lazy sigh, with the whole body rising slightly as it does so, and then relapses into its former inactivity. Indeed, one cannot help being reminded, when watching the variety in the motions of the different kinds of Jelly-fishes, of the difference of temperament in human beings. There are the alert and active ones, ever on the watch, ready to seize the opportunity as it comes, but missing it sometimes from too great impatience; and the slow, steady people, with very regular movements, not so quick perhaps, but as successful in the long run; and the dreamy, indolent characters, of which the Zygodactyla is one, always floating languidly about, and rarely surprised into any sudden or abrupt expression. One would say, too, that they have their aristocratic circles; for there is a delicate, high-bred grace about some of them quite wanting in the coarser kinds. The lithe, flexible form of the greyhound is not in stronger contrast to the heavy, square build of the bull dog, than are some of the lighter, more frail species of Jelly-fish to the more solid and clumsy ones. Among these finer kinds we would place the Tima. (Fig. 76.) _Tima_. (_Tima formosa_ AG.) One's vocabulary is soon exhausted in describing the different degrees of consistency in the substance of Jelly-fishes. Delicate and transparent as is the Tima, it has yet a certain robustness and solidity beside the Oceania, described above. In fact, all are gelatinous, all are more or less transparent, and it is not easy to describe the various shades of solidity in jelly. Perhaps they may be more accurately represented by the impression made upon the touch than upon the sight. If, for instance, you place your hand upon a Zygodactyla, you feel that you have come in contact with a substance that has a positive consistency; but if you dip your finger into a bowl where a Tima is swimming, and touch its disk, you will feel no difference between it and the water in which it floats, and will not be aware that you have reached it till the animal shrinks away from the contact. [Illustration: Fig. 76. Tima; half natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 77. One of the lips of the mouth at the extremity of the long proboscis; _m_ mouth, _d_ digestive cavity, _c_ chymiferous tube.] The adult Tima, represented in Fig. 76, is not more than an inch and a half or two inches in diameter. Instead of countless tubes diverging from the digestive cavity to the margin of the disk, as in the Zygodactyla, there are but four. The digestive cavity in the Tima is much smaller than in the Zygodactyla, and is placed at the end of the proboscis, which is long, and hangs down far below the disk. This removal of the digestive cavity to the extremity of the proboscis gives to the tubes arising from it a very different and much sharper curve than they have in the Zygodactyla. In the Tima they start from the end of the proboscis, as may be seen in the wood-cut (Fig. 76), and then turn abruptly off, when they arrive at the under surface of the disk, to reach its margin. The disk has, as usual, its veil and its fringe of tentacles; the tentacles in the full-grown Tima are few,--seven in all the four intermediate spaces between the tubes, with one at the base of each tube, making thirty-two in all. The ovaries, which are milk-white, follow the line of the tubes, as in the Zygodactyla, and have very undulating folds when full of eggs. The tubes meet in the digestive cavity, the margin of which spreads out to form four ruffled edges that hang down from it. One of these ruffles, considerably magnified, is represented in Fig. 77. In Fig. 78 we have a portion of the Hydroid stock from which this Jelly-fish arises, also greatly magnified. The Tima is very active, yet not abrupt in its motions; but when in good condition it is constantly moving about, rising to the surface by the regular pulsations of the disk, or swimming from side to side, or poising itself quietly in the water, giving now and then a gentle undulation to keep itself in position. [Illustration: Fig. 78. Magnified head of Hydrarium of Tima.] Though not a very frequent visitor of our shores, the appearance of the Tima is not limited by the seasons, since they are found at all times of the year. It is a fact, unexplained as yet, that the Tima and many other Jelly-fishes are never seen except when full grown. What may be the haunts and habits of these animals from the time of their hatching till they make their appearance again in the adult condition, is not known, though it is probable that they remain at the bottom during this period, and only come to the surface to spawn. This impression is confirmed by the observations made upon a very young Cyanea which was kept for a long time in confinement; but a question of this kind cannot of course be settled by a single experiment.[6] [Footnote 6: Since the above was written, I have had an opportunity of learning some additional facts respecting the habits of the young Cyanea, which may, perhaps, apply to other Jelly-fishes also. Having occasion to visit the wharves at Provincetown at about four o'clock one morning, I was surprised to find thousands of the spring brood of Cyaneæ, hitherto supposed to pass the early period of their existence wholly in deep water, floating about near the surface. They varied in size, some being no larger than a three-cent-piece, while others were from an inch in diameter to three inches. It would seem that they make their appearance only during the earliest morning hours, for at seven o'clock, when I returned to the same spot, they had all vanished. It may be that other young Medusæ have the same habits of early rising, and that instead of coming to bask in the midday sunshine, like their elders, they prefer the cooler hours of the dawn. (_A. Agassiz_.)] _Melicertum_. (_Melicertum campanula_ PÉR. et LES.) A pretty Medusa, smaller and far more readily obtained than the Tima, is the Melicertum. (Fig. 80.) Its disk has a yellowish hue, and from its margin hangs a heavy row of yellow tentacles, while the eight ovaries (Fig. 79) are of a darker shade of the same color. This little golden-tinted Jelly-fish, moving through the water with short, quick throbs, produced by the rapid rise and fall of the disk, is a very graceful object. Its bright color, made particularly prominent by the darker undulating lines of the ovaries, which become very marked near the spawning season, renders it more conspicuous in the water than one would suppose from its size; for it does not measure more than an inch in height when full grown. (See Fig. 80.) [Illustration: Fig. 79. Melicertum campanula seen from above; _m_ mouth, _o o_ ovaries, _t t_ tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] _Development of Melicertum and Tima_. [Illustration: Fig. 80. Melicertum seen in profile; natural size.] In the Melicertum and Tima we have had the good fortune to trace the process by which the eggs are changed into Hydroid communities. If any one has a curiosity to follow for themselves this singular history of alternate generations, the Melicertum is a good subject for the experiment, as it thrives well in confinement. After keeping a number of them in a large glass jar for a couple of days at the time of spawning, it will be found that the ovaries, which were at first quite full of eggs, are emptied, and that a number of planulæ; are swimming about near the bottom of the vessel. After a day or two the outline of these planulæ, spherical at first, becomes pear-shaped (see Fig. 81), and presently they attach themselves by the blunt end to the bottom of the jar. (Fig. 82.) Thus their Hydroid life begins; they elongate gradually, the horny sheath is formed around them, tentacles arise on the upper end, short and stunted at first, but tapering rapidly out into fine flexible feelers, the stem branches, and we have a little Hydroid community (Fig. 83), upon which, in the course of the following spring, the reproductive calycles containing the Medusæ buds will be developed, as in the case of the Eucope and Clytia. The Tima passes through exactly the same process, though the shape of the planulæ and the appearance of the young differ from that of the Melicertum, as may be seen in Fig. 78, where a single head of the Tima Hydroid, greatly magnified, is represented. By combining the above observations upon the development of the Hydroids of the Melicertum and Tima with those previously mentioned upon the young Medusa arising from reproductive calycles in the Eucope and Clytia, we get a complete picture of all the changes through which any one of these Hydroid Medusæ passes, from its Hydroid condition to the moment when it enters upon an independent existence as a free Jelly-fish. [Illustration: Fig. 81. Planula of Melicertum; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 82. Cluster of planulæ just attached to the ground.] [Illustration: Fig. 83. Young Hydrarium developed from planulæ; magnified.] (_Laomedea amphora_ AG.) The Medusæ of the Campanularians are not all free. On the contrary, in many of the species they always remain attached to the Hydroid, never attaining so high a development as the free Medusæ, and withering on the stem after having laid their eggs. Such is the _Laomedea amphora_, quite common on all the bridges connecting Boston with the country, where, on account of the large amount of food brought down from the sewers by the river, they thrive wonderfully, growing to a great size, sometimes measuring from a foot to eighteen inches in height. _Sertularians_. [Illustration: Fig. 84. Colony of Dynamena pumila; natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 85. Magnified portion of Fig. 84.] The Sertularians form another group of Hydroids closely allied to the Campanularians, though differing from them in the arrangement of the sterile Hydræ upon the stem. Among these one of the most numerous is the Dynamena (_Dynamena pumila_ Lamx., Fig. 84), which hangs its yellowish fringes from almost every sea-weed above low-water-mark. It is especially thick and luxuriant on the fronds of our common _Fucus vesiculosus_. The color is usually of a pale yellow, though sometimes it is nearly white, and when first taken from the water it has a glittering look, such as a white frost leaves on a spray of grass. Fig. 84 represents such a cluster in natural size, while Fig. 85 shows a piece of the stem highly magnified, with a reproductive calycle attached to the side of a sterile Hydra stem. Many of these Sertularian Hydroids assume the most graceful forms, hanging like long pendent streamers from the Laminaria, or in other instances resembling miniature trees. One of these tree-like Sertularians (_Dyphasia rosacea_ Ag.), abundant on all rocks in sheltered places immediately below low-water-mark, is represented in Fig. 86. In both these Sertularians the Medusæ wither on the stock, never becoming free. The free Medusæ of the Sertularians are only known in their adult condition in a single genus, which is closely allied to Melicertum, and which is produced from a Hydroid genus called Lafoea. Fig. 87 represents one of these young Sertularian Medusæ (_Lafoea cornuta_ Lamx.). [Illustration: Fig. 86. Dyphasia rosacea, natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 87. Medusa of Lafoea.] _Tubularians_. In the Sertularian and Campanularian Hydroids we have found that the communities consist generally of a large number of small individuals, so small, indeed, that it is hardly possible at first glance to distinguish the separate members of these miniature societies. Among the Tubularians, on the contrary, the communities are usually composed of a small number of comparatively large individuals; and indeed these Hydroids may even grow singly, as in the case of the Hybocodon (Fig. 104), which attains several inches in height. There is also another general feature in which the Tubularians differ from both the other groups of Hydroids. In the latter, the horny sheath which encloses the stem extends to form a protecting calycle around the Hydra heads. This protecting calycle is wanting round the heads of the Tubularians, though their stems are surrounded by a sheath. _Sarsia_. (_Coryne mirabilis_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 88. Colony of Coryne; natural size. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 89. Magnified head of Coryne; _a_ stem, _t_ tentacles, _o_ mouth, _v_ body, _d_ Medusa. (Agassiz.)] [Illustration: Fig. 90. Free Medusa of Coryne. (_Agassiz_.)] Among the most common of our Tubularians is a small, mossy Hydroid (Fig. 88), covering the rocks between tides, in patches of several feet in diameter. Fig. 89 represents a single head from this little mossy tuft greatly magnified, in which is seen the medusa bud arising from the stem by the process already described in the other Hydroids. In Fig. 90 we have the little Jelly-fish in its adult condition, about the size of a small walnut, with a wide circular opening, through which passes the long proboscis, hanging from the under surface of the disk to a considerable distance below its margin. The four tentacles are of an immense length when compared to the size of the animal. As a general thing, the tentacles are less numerous in the Tubularian Medusæ than in those arising from other Hydroids; they want also the singular limestone concretions found at the base of the tentacles in the Campanularian Medusæ. In Fig. 91 we have one of the Tubularian Medusæ (_Turris vesicaria_ A. Ag.) which lifts a rather larger number of tentacles than is usual among these Jelly-fishes. We never find the tentacles multiplying almost indefinitely in them, as in Zygodactyla and Eucope. The little Jelly-fish described above is known as Sarsia, while its Hydroid is called Coryne. These names having been given to the separate phases of its existence before their connection was understood, and when they were supposed to represent two distinct animals. They are especially interesting with reference to the history of Hydroids in general, because they were among the first of these animals in whom the true relation between the different phases of their existence was discovered. Lesson named the Sarsia after the great Norwegian naturalist, Sars, to whom we owe so large a part of what is at present known respecting this curious subject of alternate generations. [Illustration: Fig. 91. Turris vesicaria; natural size.] _Bougainvillia_. (_Bougainvillia superciliaris_ AG.) The Bougainvillia (Fig. 92), is one of our most common Jelly-fishes, frequenting our wharves as well as our sea-shore during the spring. The tentacles are arranged in four bunches or clusters at the junction of the radiating tubes with the circular tube, from which they may be seen extending in every direction whenever these animals remain quietly suspended in the water,--a favorite attitude with them, and one which they retain sometimes for days, seeming to make no effort beyond that of gently playing their tentacles to and fro (Fig. 92). These tentacles are capable of immense extension, sometimes to ten or fifteen times the diameter of the bell. The proboscis is not simple as in the Sarsia, but looks like a yellow urn suspended at its four corners from the chymiferous tubes. The oral opening is entirely concealed by clusters of shorter tentacles surrounding the mouth in a close wreath, on which the eggs are supported. A highly magnified branch of the Hydroid stock from which this Medusa arises is represented in Fig. 93. There we see the little Jelly-fishes in different degrees of development on the stem, while in Figs. 94-97 they are given separately and still more enlarged. In Fig. 94 the outline of the Jelly-fish is still oval, the proboscis is but just formed, and the tentacles appear only as round swellings or knobs. In Fig. 95 a depression has taken place at the upper end, presently to be an opening, the proboscis is enlarged, and the tentacles lengthened, but still turned inward. In Fig. 96 the appendages of the proboscis are quite conspicuous, the tentacles are turned outward, and the Jelly-fish is almost ready to break from its attachment, having assumed its ultimate outline. Fig. 97 represents it just after it has separated from the stem, when it has only two tentacles at each cluster and simple knobs around the mouth, instead of the complicated branching tentacles of the adult. [Illustration: Fig. 92. Bougainvillia; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 93. Hydrarium of Bougainvillia; magnified.] [Illustration: Figs. 94, 95, 96. Medusæ buds of Fig. 93, in different degrees of development.] [Illustration: Fig. 97. Young Medusa just freed from the Hydroid; magnified.] _Tubularia_. (_Tubularia Couthouyi_ AG.) There are several other Tubularians common in our waters which should not be passed over without mention, although as this little book is by no means intended as a complete text-book, but rather as a volume of hints for amateur collectors, we would avoid as much as possible encumbering it with many names, or with descriptions already given in more comprehensive works. This Tubularia is interesting, however, from the fact that the Medusæ buds are never freed from the stem, and do not develop into full-grown Jelly-fishes, but always remain abortive. Fig. 98 represents one head of such a Hydroid with the Medusæ buds pendent from it in a thick cluster, while in Fig. 99 we have a few of them sufficiently magnified to show that, though presenting the four chymiferous tubes, they are otherwise exceedingly simple in structure, as compared with the free Jelly-fishes. [Illustration: Fig. 98. Tubularia; magnified. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 99. Part of cluster of Medusæ of Fig. 98; magnified. (_Agassiz_.)] _Hydractinia_. (_Hydractinia polyclina_ AG.) This is another Tubularian, covering the surface of rocks in tide-pools, or attaching itself upon shells inhabited by hermit crabs. Indeed it was upon these shells that the Hydractinia was first noticed, and it was long supposed that the wanderings to which the little colony was thus subjected were necessary for its healthy development. But subsequent observations have shown that it attaches itself quite as frequently to the solid rock as to these nomadic shells. It has a rosy color, and, being very small, it looks, until one examines it closely, more like a thick red carpet of soft moss, than like a colony of animals. These communities are distinct in sex, the fertile individuals in each being either all male or all female. In Fig. 100 we have a portion of a female colony, representing one fertile head, in which the buds are crowded with Medusæ; one sterile head, surrounded by its wreath of tentacles; and still another member of the society whose office is not fully understood, unless it be that of a kind of purveyor, catching food for the rest. Fig. 101 represents the corresponding individuals taken from a male colony. The sex makes little difference in the appearance of the reproductive heads. All the individuals of a Hydractinia colony are connected at the base by a horny network, rising occasionally into points of a conical or cylindrical shape. This polymorphism among the Tubularians is another evidence of the relation between the Siphonophoræ, or floating Hydroids, and the fixed Hydroids. [Illustration: Fig. 100. Female colony of Hydractinia; _a_ sterile individual, _b_ fertile individual producing female Medusæ, _c_ fertile individual with globular tentacles without Medusæ, _d_ _e_ _f_ _g_ _h_ _i_ Medusæ in different stages of growth, _o_ mouth tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 101. Male colony; _a_ _a_ sterile individuals, _b_ fertile individuals producing male Medusæ, _d_; _o_ globular tentacles, _t_ slender tentacles of sterile individual. (_Agassiz_.)] _Hybocodon_. (_Hybocodon prolifer_ AG.) Among our Medusæ derived from a Tubularian stock is the Hybocodon, viz. the hunchbacked Medusa (Fig. 102), a singular little Jelly-fish, odd and unsymmetrical in shape, as its name indicates, and interesting from its relations to one of our floating communities, the Nanomia, presently to be described. Instead of the evenly proportioned bell of the ordinary Medusæ, the Hybocodon has a one-sided outline (Fig. 102), one large tentacle only being fully developed, while the others remain always abortive, so that the whole weight of the structure is thrown on one half of the bell. Upon this large tentacle small Jelly-fishes, similar to the original, are produced by budding, this process going on till ten or twelve such Jelly-fishes (Fig. 103) may be seen suspended from the tentacle. Up to this time it has remained connected with the Hydroid from which it arises, a rather large Tubularian, usually growing singly (Fig. 104), and of a deep orange-red in color. But at this stage of its existence it frees itself, and leads an independent life hereafter, swimming about with a quick, darting motion. In the account of the Nanomia, the homology between its scale, or abortive Medusa, and the Hybocodon, is traced in detail, and I need only allude to it here. Though this Medusa is so peculiar in appearance, the Tubularian from which it is derived is very like the _Tubularia Couthouyi_, already described. This is one of the instances before alluded to, in which closely allied forms give rise to very dissimilar ones, or, as in many cases, the very reverse of this takes place, and closely allied forms arise from very dissimilar ones. [Illustration: Fig. 102. Unsymmetrical free Medusa of Hybocodon; _r_ _o_ chymiferous tubes, _v_ proboscis, _s_ circular tube, _m_ young Medusæ at base of long tentacle _t_. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 103. Medusa bud of Hybocodon; _a_ base of attachment, _o_ proboscis, _c_ circular tube, _d_ young Medusæ at base of long tentacle _t_. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 104. Single head of Hybocodon Hydroid; _a_ stem, _d_ Medusæ buds, _o_ tentacles round mouth. (_Agassiz_.)] _Dysmorphosa_. (_Dysmorphosa fulgurans_ A. AG.) Besides the budding at the base of the tentacle, as in Hybocodon, we find another mode of development among Hydroid Medusæ, viz. that of budding from the proboscis. One of our most common little Jelly-fishes, the Dysmorphosa (Fig. 105), to which we owe the occasional blue phosphorescence of the sea, so brilliant at times, buds in this manner. Fig. 105 represents an adult Dysmorphosa, on the proboscis of which may be seen three small buds in different stages of development. In Fig. 106 the proboscis is more enlarged, showing one of the little Jelly-fishes similar to the parent, just ready to drop off. We need not wonder at the immense number of these animals, with which the sea actually swarms at times, when we know that as fast as they are dropped, and it takes but a few days to complete their development, they each begin the same process; so that in the course of a week or ten days one such Medusa, supposing it to have produced six buds only, will have given rise to forty-two Jelly-fishes, thirty-six of which may be equally prolific in the same short period. These Medusæ budding thus, and swimming about, carrying their young with them, bear such a close resemblance to the floating communities of Hydroids formerly known as Siphonophoræ, that did we not know that some of them arise from Tubularians, it would be natural to associate them with the Siphonophoræ. [Illustration: Fig. 105. Dysmorphosa seen in profile; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 106. Magnified proboscis of Dysmorphosa with young Medusæ budding from it.] _Nanomia_. (_Nanomia cara_ A. AG.) The Nanomia (Fig. 115), our free floating Hydroid, consists, when first formed, of a single Hydra containing an oblong oil bubble (Fig. 107). The whole organisation of such a Hydra is limited to a simple digestive cavity; it has, in fact, but one organ, and one function, and consists of an alimentary sac resembling the proboscis of a Medusa (Fig. 107); the oil bubble is separated from it by a transverse partition, and has no connection with the cavity. Presently, between the oil bubble and the cavity arise a number of buds of various character (Fig. 108), which we will describe one by one, beginning with those nearest the oil bubble, since these upper members of the little swimming community bear a very important part in its history. The infant community (Fig. 108) passes rapidly into the stage represented in Fig. 109, and then through all the stages intermediate between this and the adult, shown in its natural size in Fig. 115. The upper buds enlarge gradually, and soon take upon themselves a perfect Medusa structure (Fig. 110), with the exception of the proboscis, the absence of which is easily understood, when we find that these Medusæ, serve the purpose of locomotion only, having no share in the function of feeding the community, so that a digestive apparatus would be quite superfluous for them. In every other respect they are perfect Medusæ, attached to the Hydra as the Medusa buds always are when first formed, having the (four) chymiferous tubes, characteristic of all Hydroid Medusæ, radiating from the centre to the periphery; two of these tubes are very winding, as may be seen in Fig. 110, while the other pair are straight. The Medusæ themselves are heart-shaped in form, depressed at the centre of the upper surface, and bulging on either side into wing-like expansions, where they join the stem. These expansions interlock with one another, crossing nearly at right angles. The Medusæ-like buds are the swimming bells; by their contractions, alternately taking in and throwing out the water, they impel the whole community forward, so that it seems rather to move like one animal, than like a combination of individuals. [Illustration: Fig. 107. Young Nanomia; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig, 108. Young Nanomia with rudimentary Medusæ.] [Illustration: Fig. 109. Young Nanomia, older than Fig. 108.] [Illustration: Fig. 110. Heart-shaped swimming bell of Nanomia; magnified.] Besides these locomotive members, the community contains three kinds of Hydræ arising as buds from the primitive Hydra below the swimming bells, the latter remaining always nearest the oil bubble at the top, while the first Hydra, the founder of the community, in proportion as the new individuals are added, is gradually pushed downward, and remains always at the end of the string, the stem of which is formed by the elongated neck of the primitive Hydra. All the three sets of Hydræ have certain features in common, while they have other distinguishing characteristics marking them as distinct individuals. They are all accompanied by triangular shields (Fig. 111), arising with them at the same point on the parent stem, and all are furnished with tentacles hanging down from the summit of the Hydra at the side opposite the shield. These facts are important to remember, since we shall presently perceive, upon analyzing their parts, that these Hydræ have a close homology to the Hybocodon. The tentacles differ in structure as well as in number for each kind of Hydra. Having shown in what characters they agree, let us now take each set individually, and see what differences they present. [Illustration: Fig. 111. Cluster of Medusæ with tentacles having pendent knobs.] In the first set which we will examine the Hydra is open-mouthed. Like the original Hydra, it is only a digestive tube, similar in all respects to the proboscis of a Medusa-disk. Its only function is that of feeding, and it shows a laudable fidelity to its calling, being very constantly and earnestly engaged in the work. Let us add, however, that in this instance the occupation is not a wholly selfish one, since the cavity of every Hydra communicates with that of the stem, and the food taken in at these over-gaping mouths, is at once circulated through all parts of the community, with the exception of the oil bubble, from which it is excluded by the transverse partition dividing it from all the lower members of the stock. The shields share in this general nourishment of the compound body by means of chymiferous tubes extending toward the outer surface, and opening into the cavity of the stem. The mouth of this Hydra is very flexible (Fig. 111), expanding and contracting at the will of the animal, and sometimes acting as a sucker, fastening itself, leech-like, on the object from which it seeks to draw its sustenance. (See Fig. 111.) The tentacles attached to this set of Hydræ are exceedingly long and delicate. They arise in a cluster at the upper and inner edge of the Hydra, just at its point of juncture with the stem, and being extremely flexible and contractile, their long tendril-like sprays are thrown out in an endless variety of attitudes. (See Fig. 115.) Along the whole length of this kind of tentacle are attached little pendent knobs at even distances; Fig. 112 represents such a knob greatly magnified, and absolutely paved with lasso-cells, the inner and smaller ones being surrounded by a row of larger ones. [Illustration: Fig. 112. Magnified pendent knob.] [Illustration: Fig. 113. Medusa with corkscrew shaped tentacles.] The second set of Hydræ (Fig. 113), are also open-mouthed, corresponding with those described above, in everything except the tentacles, which are both shorter and thicker, and are coiled in a corkscrew-like spiral. These are thickly studded for their whole length with lasso-cells. (See Fig. 113.) In the third and last set of Hydræ (Fig. 114), the mouth is closed; they have, therefore, no share in feeding the community, but receive their nourishment from the cavity of the stem into which they open. They differ also from the others in having a single tentacle instead of a cluster, and on this tentacle the lasso-cells are scattered at uneven distances (Fig. 114). The special function of these closed Hydræ is yet to be explained; they have oil bubbles at their upper end (see Fig. 111, the top Hydra), and though we have never seen them drop off, it seems natural to suppose that they do separate from the parent stock, and found new communities similar to those from which they arise. [Illustration: Fig. 114. Medusa with a simple thread-like tentacle.] The intricate story of this singular compound existence does not end here. There is still another set of individuals whose share in maintaining the life of the community is by no means the least important. Little bunches of buds, of a different character from any described above, may be seen at certain distances along the lower part of the stem. These are the reproductive individuals. They are clusters of imperfect sexual Medusæ, resembling the rudimentary Medusæ of Tubularia (Fig. 99), which are never freed from the parent stem, but discharge their contents at the breeding season. Like many other compound Hydroids, the sexes are never combined, in one of these communities; they are always either male or female, and as those with female buds have not yet been observed, we can only judge by inference of their probable character. Front what is already known, however, of Hydroid communities of a like description, we suppose that the process of reproduction must be the same in these, and that the female stocks of Nanomia give birth to small Jelly-fishes, the eggs of which become oil bubbles, similar to that with which our little community began. (Fig. 108.) [Illustration: Fig. 115. Adult Nanomia, natural size, at rest.] By the time all these individuals have been added along the length of the stem, the stem itself has grown to be about three inches long (Fig. 115), though the tentacles hanging from the various members of the community give to the whole an appearance of much greater length. The motion of this little string of living beings is most graceful. The oil bubble (Fig. 116) at the upper end is their float; the swimming bells immediately below it (Fig. 110), by the convulsive contractions of which they move along, are their oars. The water is not taken in and expelled again by all the bells at once, but first from all the bells on one side, beginning at the lower one, and then from all those on the opposite side, beginning also at the lower one; this alternate action gives to their movements a swinging, swaying character, expressive of the utmost freedom and grace. Whether such a little community darts with a lightning-like speed through the water, or floats quietly up and down, for its movements are both rapid and gentle, it always sways in this way from side to side. Its beauty is increased by the spots of bright red scattered along the length of the stock at the base and tips of the Hydræ, as well as upon the tentacles. The movements and attitudes of the tentacles are most various. Sometimes they shoot them out in straight lines on either side, and then the aspect of the whole thing reminds one of a tiny chandelier in which the coral drops make the pendants, or they may be caught up in a succession of loops or floating in long streamers; indeed, there is no end to the fantastic forms they assume, ever astonishing you by some new combination of curves. The prevailing hue of the whole community is rosy, with the exception of the oil bubble or float, which looks a bright garnet color when seen in certain lights. [Illustration: Fig. 116. Oil float of Nanomia; greatly magnified.] Let us now compare one of the Hydræ hanging from the stem (Fig. 113) with the Hybocodon (Fig. 102). The reader will remember the unsymmetrical bell of this singular Medusa, one half of its disk more largely developed than the other, with the proboscis hanging from the centre, and the cluster of tentacles from one side. Let us now split the bell so as to divide it in two halves with the proboscis hanging between them; next enlarge the side where there are no tentacles, and give it a triangular outline; then contract the opposite side so as to draw up the cluster of tentacles to meet the base of the proboscis, and what have we? The proboscis now corresponds to the Hydra of our Nanomia, with the cluster of tentacles attached to its upper edge (Fig. 113), while the enlarged half of the bell represents the shield. If this homology be correct it shows that the Nanomia is not, as some naturalists have supposed all the Siphonophores to be, a single animal, its different parts being a mere collection of organs endowed with special functions, as feeding, locomotion, reproduction, &c., but that it is indeed a community of distinct individuals corresponding exactly to the polymorphous Hydroids, whose stocks are attached, such as Hydractinia, and differing from them only in being free and floating. The homologies of the Siphonophoræ or floating Hydroids, with many of the fixed Hydroids, is perhaps more striking when we compare the earlier stages of their growth. Suppose, for instance, that the planula of our Melicertum (See Fig. 81) should undergo its development without becoming attached to the ground,--what should we then have? A floating community (Fig. 83), including on the same stock like the Nanomia, both sterile and fertile Hydræ, from the latter of which Medusæ bells are developed. The little Hydractinia community (Fig. 100), in which we have no less than four distinct kinds of individuals, each performing a definite distinct function, affords a still better comparison. _Physalia_. (_Physalia Arethusa_ TIL.) [Illustration: Fig. 117. Physalia; _a_ _b_ air sac with crest _c_, _m_ bunches of individuals, _n_ central tentacles, _t_ _t_ expanded tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] Among the most beautiful of the Siphonophores, is the well-known Physalia or Portuguese man-of-war, represented in Fig. 117. The float above is a sort of crested sac or bladder, while the long streamers below consist of a number of individuals corresponding in their nature and functions to those composing a Hydroid community. Among them are the fertile and sterile Hydræ (Fig. 118), the feeders and Medusæ bells (Fig. 119). The Physalia properly belongs to tropical waters, but sometimes floats northward, in the warm current of the Gulf Stream, and is stranded on Cape Cod. When found so far from their home, however, they have usually lost much of their vividness of color; to judge of their beauty one should see them in the Gulf of Mexico, sailing along with their brilliant float fully expanded, their crest raised, and their long tentacles trailing after them. [Illustration: Fig. 118. Bunch of Hydræ; _a_ base of attachment, _b_ _b_ _b_ single Hydræ, _c_ _c_ tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 119. Bunch of Hydræ; cluster of Medusæ; _b_ _b_ Hydræ with tentacles, _c_ _d_ bunches of Medusæ (_Agassiz_.)] _Velella_. (_Velella mutica_ BOSC.) Another very beautiful floating Hydroid, occasionally caught in our waters, though its home is also far to the south, is the Velella (Fig. 120). It is bright blue in color, and in form not unlike a little flat boat with an upright sail. Its Medusa (Fig. 121) resembles so much that of some of our Tubularians, that it has actually been removed on this account from the old group of Siphonophoræ, and placed next the Tubularians; another evidence of the close affinity between the former and the Hydroids. [Illustration: Fig. 120. Velella; _m_ so-called mouth, _a_ tentacles. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 121. Free Medusa of Velella; _a_ proboscis, _b_ chymiferous tube, _c_ circular tube. (_Agassiz_.)] MODE OF CATCHING JELLY-FISHES. Not the least attractive feature in the study of these animals, is the mode of catching them. We will suppose it to be a warm, still morning at Nahant, in the last week of August, with a breath of autumn in the haze that softens the outlines of the opposite shore, and makes the horizon line a little dim. It is about eleven o'clock, for few of the Jelly-fishes are early risers; they like the warm sun, and at an earlier hour they are not to be found very near the surface. The sea is white and glassy, with a slight swell but no ripple, and seems almost motionless as we put off in a dory from the beach near Saunders's Ledge. We are provided with two buckets, one for the larger Jelly-fishes, the Zygodactyla, Aurelia, &c., the other for the smaller fry, such as the various kinds of Ctenophoræ, the Tima, Melicertum, &c. Beside these, we have two nets and glass bowls, in which to take up the more fragile creatures that cannot bear rough handling. A bump or two on the stones before we are fairly launched, a shove of the oar to keep the boat well out from the rocks along which we skirt for a moment, and now we are off. We pull around the point to our left and turn toward the Ledge, filling our buckets as we go. Now we are crossing the shallows that make the channel between the inner and outer rocks of Saunders's Ledge. Look down,--how clear the water is and how lovely the sea-weeds, above which we are floating, dark brown and purple fronds of the Ulvæ, and the long blades of the Laminaria with mossy green tufts between. As we issue from this narrow passage we must be on the watch, for the tide is rising, and may come laden with treasures, as it sweeps through it. A sudden cry from the oarsman at the bow, not of rocks or breakers ahead, but of "A new Jelly-fish astern!" The quick eye of the naturalist of the party pronounces it unknown to zoölogists, un-described by any scientific pen. Now what excitement! "Out with the net!--we have passed him! he has gone down! no, there he is again! back us a bit." Here he is floating close by us; now he is within the circle of the net, but he is too delicate to be caught safely in that way, so, while one of us moves the net gently about, to keep him within the space enclosed by it, another slips the glass bowl under him, lifts it quickly, and there is a general exclamation of triumph and delight,--we have him. And now we look more closely; yes, decidedly he is a novelty as well as a beauty. (See Fig. 122, _Ptychogena lactea_ A. Ag.) Those white mossy tufts for ovaries are unlike anything we have found before (Fig. 123), and not represented in any published figures of Jelly-fishes. We float about here for a while, hoping to find more of the same kind, but no others make their appearance, and we keep on our way to East Point, where there is a capital fishing ground for Medusæ of all sorts. Here two currents meet, and the Jelly-fishes are stranded as it were along the line of juncture, able to move neither one way nor the other. At this spot the sea actually swarms with life; one cannot dip the net into the water without bringing up Pleurobrachia, Bolina, Idyia, Melicertum, &c., while the larger Zygodactyla and Aurelia float about the boat in numbers. These large Jelly-fishes produce a singular effect as one sees them at some depth beneath the water; the Aureliæ, especially, with their large white disks, look like pale phantoms wandering about far below the surface; but they constantly float upward, and if not too far out of reach, one may bring them up by stirring the water under them with the end of the oar. [Illustration: Fig. 122. Ptychogena, natural size.] [Illustration: Fig. 123. Ovary of Ptychogena; magnified.] When we have passed an hour or so floating about just beyond East Point, and have nearly filled our buckets with Jelly-fishes of all sizes and descriptions, we turn and row homeward. The buckets look very pretty as they stand in the bottom of the boat with the sunshine lighting up their living contents. The Idyia glitters and sparkles with ever-changing hues, the Pleurobrachiæ dart about, trailing their long graceful tentacles after them, the golden Melicerta are kept in constant motion by their quick, sudden contractions, and the delicate transparent Tima floats among them all, not the less beautiful because so colorless. There is an unfortunate Idyia, who, by some mistake, has got into the wrong bucket with the larger Jelly-fish, where a Zygodactyla has entangled it among his tentacles and is quietly breakfasting upon it. During our row the tide has been rising, and as we near the channel of Saunders's Ledge, it is running through more strongly than before, and at the entrance of the shallows a pleasant surprise is prepared us; no less than half a dozen of our new friends (the Ptychogena as he has been baptized), come to look for their lost companion perhaps, await us there, and are presently added to our spoils. We reach the shore heavily laden with the fruits of our morning's excursion. The most interesting part of the work for the naturalist is still to come. On our return to the Laboratory, the contents of the buckets are poured into separate glass bowls and jars; holding them up against the light, we can see which are our best and rarest specimens; these we dip out in glass cups and place by themselves. If any small specimens are swimming about at the bottom of the jar, and refuse to come within our reach, there is a very simple mode of catching them. Dip a glass tube into the water, keeping the upper end closed with your finger, and sink it till the lower end is just above the animal you want to entrap; then lift your finger, and as the air rushes out the water rushes in, bringing with it the little creature you are trying to catch. When the specimens are well assorted, the microscope is taken out, and the rest of the day is spent in studying the new Jelly-fishes, recording the results, making notes, drawings, &c. Still more attractive than the rows by day are the night expeditions in search of Jelly-fishes. For this object we must choose a quiet night, for they will not come to the surface if the water is troubled. Nature has her culminating hours, and she brings us now and then a day or night on which she seems to have lavished all her treasures. It was on such a rare evening, at the close of the summer of 1862, that we rowed over the same course by Saunders's Ledge and East Point described above. The August moon was at her full, the sky was without a cloud, and we floated on a silver sea; pale streamers of the aurora quivered in the north, and notwithstanding the brilliancy of the moon, they too cast their faint reflection in the ocean. We rowed quietly along past the Ledge, past Castle Rock, the still surface of the water unbroken, except by the dip of the oars and the ripple of the boat, till we reached the line off East Point, where the Jelly-fishes are always most abundant, if they are to be found at all. Now dip the net into the water. What genie under the sea has wrought this wonderful change? Our dirty, torn old net is suddenly turned to a web of gold, and as we lift it from the water heavy rills of molten metal seem to flow down its sides and collect in a glowing mass at the bottom. The truth is, the Jelly-fishes, so sparkling and brilliant in the sunshine, have a still lovelier light of their own at night; they give out a greenish golden light as brilliant as that of the brightest glow-worm, and on a calm summer night, at the spawning season, when they come to the surface in swarms, if you do but dip your hand into the water it breaks into sparkling drops beneath your touch. There are no more beautiful phosphorescent animals in the sea than the Medusæ; it would seem that the expression, "rills of molten metal" could hardly apply to anything so impalpable as a Jelly-fish, but, although so delicate in structure, their gelatinous disks give them a weight and substance; and at night, when their transparency is not perceived, and their whole mass is aglow with phosphorescent light, they truly have an appearance of solidity which is most striking, when they are lifted out of the water and flow down the sides of the net. The various kinds present very different aspects; wherever the larger Aureliæ and Zygodactylæ float to the surface, they bring with them a dim spreading halo of light, the smaller Ctenophoræ become little shining spheres, while a thousand lesser creatures add their tiny lamps to the illumination of the ocean; for this so-called phosphorescence of the sea is by no means due to the Jelly-fishes alone, but is also produced by many other animals, differing in the color as well as the intensity of their light, and it is a curious fact that they seem to take possession of the field by turns. You may row over the same course, which a few nights since glowed with a greenish golden light wherever the surface of the water was disturbed, and though equally brilliant, the phosphorescence has now a pure white light. On such an evening, be quite sure that when you empty your buckets on your return and examine their contents you will find that the larger part of your treasures are small crustacea (little shrimps). Of course there will be other phosphorescent creatures, Jelly-fishes, &c., among them, but the predominant color is given by these little crustacea. On another evening the light will have a bluish tint, and then the phosphorescence is principally due to the Dysmorphosa (Fig. 105). Notwithstanding the beauty of a moonlight row, if you would see the phosphorescence to greatest advantage you must choose a dark night, when the motion of your boat sets the sea on fire around you, and a long undulating wave of light rolls off from your oar as you lift it from the water. On a brilliant evening this effect is lost in a great degree, and it is not until you dip your net fairly under the moonlit surface of the sea, that you are aware how full of life it is. Occasionally one is tempted out by the brilliancy of the phosphorescence, when the clouds are so thick that water, sky, and land become one indiscriminate mass of black, and the line of rocks can be discerned only by the vivid flash of greenish golden light, when the breakers dash against them. At such times there is something wild and weird in the whole scene, which at once fascinates and appalls the imagination; one seems to be rocking above a volcano, for the surface around is intensely black, except where fitful flashes or broad waves of light break from the water under the motion of the boat or the stroke of the oars. It was on a night like this, when the phosphorescence was unusually brilliant, and the sea as black as ink, the surf breaking heavily and girdling the rocky shore with a wall of fire, that our collector was so fortunate as to find in the rich harvest he brought home the entirely new and exceedingly pretty little floating Hydroid, described under the name of Nanomia (Fig. 115). It was in its very infancy (Fig. 108), a mere bubble, not yet possessed of the various appendages which eventually make up its complex structure; but it was nevertheless very important to have seen it in this early stage of its existence, since, when a few full-grown specimens were found in the autumn, which lived for some days in confinement and quietly allowed their portraits to be taken (see Fig. 115), it was easy to connect the adult animal with the younger phase of its own life and thus make a complete history. Marine phosphorescence is no new topic, and we have dwelt too long, perhaps, upon a phenomenon that every voyager has seen, and many have described. Its effect is very different, when seen from the deck of a vessel, from its appearance as one floats through its midst, distinguishing the very creatures that produce it, and any account of the Medusæ which did not include this most characteristic feature would be incomplete. * * * * * ECHINODERMS. Our illustrations and descriptions of Echinoderms are scanty in comparison to those of the preceding class; for while, in consequence, perhaps, of the combined influence of the Gulf Stream and the cold arctic current on the New England shore, Acalephs are largely represented in our waters, our marine fauna is meagre in Echinoderms. But although we have few varieties, those which do establish themselves on a coast seemingly so ungenial for others of their kind, such as the Echinus, and our common Star-fish, for instance, thrive well and are very abundant. The class of Echinoderms includes five orders, viz. CRINOIDS, OPHIURANS, STAR-FISHES, SEA-URCHINS, and HOLOTHURIANS. The animals composing these orders differ so widely in appearance that it was very long before their true relations were detected, and it was seen that all their external differences were united under a common plan. Let us compare, for instance, the worm-like Holothurians (Figs. 124, 126, 127) with all the host of Star-fishes (Figs. 142, 146, 147) and Sea-urchins (Figs. 131, 139), or compare the radiating form of the Star-fish, its arms spreading in every direction, with the close spherical outline of the Sea-urchin, or the Crinoid floating at the end of a stem (Fig. 152) with either of these, and we shall cease to wonder that naturalists failed to find at once a unity of idea under all these varieties of execution. And yet the fundamental structure of the class of Echinoderms is represented as distinctly by any one of its five orders as by any other, and is absolutely identical in all. They differ only by trifling modifications of development. In Echinoderms as a class, the body presents three regions differing in structure, and on the greater or less development of these regions or systems, as we may call them, their chief differences are based. Take, for instance, the dorsal system, the nature of which is explained by the name, indicating of course the back of the animal, though it does not necessarily imply the upper side of the body, since some of the Echinoderms, as the stemmed Crinoids, for example, carry the dorsal side downward, while the Star-fishes and Sea-urchins carry it upward, and the Holothurians, moving with the mouth forward, have the dorsal system at the opposite end of the body. Whatever the natural attitude of the animal, however, and the consequent position of the dorsal region, it exists alike in all the five orders, though it has not the same extent and importance in each. But in all it is made up of similar parts, bears the same relation to the rest of the body, has the same share in the general economy of the animal. And though when we compare the spreading back of a Star-fish with the small area on the top of a Sea-urchin, where all the zones unite, we may not at once see the correspondence between them, yet a careful comparison of all their structural details shows that they are both built with the same elements and represent the same region, though it is stretched to the utmost in the one case, and greatly contracted in the other. This being true of the dorsal system, let us look at another equally important structural feature in this class. All Echinoderms have locomotive organs peculiar to themselves, a kind of suckers which may be more or less numerous, larger or smaller, in different species, but are always appendages of the same character. These are variously distributed over the body, but always with a certain regularity occupying definite spaces, shown by investigation to be homologous in all. For instance, the rays of the Star-fish correspond in every detail on their under side, along which the locomotive suckers run, with the zones on the Sea-urchin, from end to end of which the suckers are arranged; and the same is equally true of the distribution of the suckers on the Holothurians, Ophiurans, and Crinoids, though, as most persons are less familiar with these orders than with the other two, it might not be so easy to point out the coincidence to our readers. These suckers are called the ambulacra, the lines along which they run are called the ambulacral rows or zones, while the system of locomotion as a whole is known as the ambulacral system. Since these organs are thus regularly distributed over the body in distinct zones or rows, it follows that the latter must be divided by intervening spaces. These intervals are called the interambulacral spaces; but while in some orders they are occupied by larger plates and prominent spines, as in the Sea-urchin and Star-fish, in others they are either comparatively insignificant or completely suppressed, as in the Crinoids and Ophiurans. Such are the three regions or systems which by their greater or less development introduce an almost infinite variety of combinations into this highest class of Radiates. It may not be amiss before proceeding further to compare the five orders with reference to this point, and see which of these three systems has the preponderance in each one. Taking the orders in their rank and beginning with the lowest, we find in the Crinoids that the dorsal system preponderates, being composed of highly complicated plates, and developed to such a degree as to form in many instances a stem by which the animal is attached to the ground, while the ambulacral system is limited to a comparatively small area, and the interambulacral system is wanting. The order of Crinoids has diminished so much in modern geological times that we must consult its fossil forms in order to understand fully the peculiar adaptation of the Echinoderm plan in this group. In the Ophiurans, the dorsal system is still large, and though it no longer stretches out to form a stem, it folds over on the under side of the animal so as to enclose entirely the ambulacral system, forming a kind of shield for the arms. Here also the interambulacral system is wanting. In the Star-fishes the dorsal system encroaches less upon the structure of the animal. The back and oral side here correspond exactly in size, and though the flat leathery upper surface of the animal, covered with spines, serves as a protection to the delicate ambulacral suckers which find their way between the rows of small plates along the under side of the arms, yet it does not enfold them as in the Ophiurans. On the contrary, in the Star-fishes the ambulacral rows are protected on either side by a row of the so-called interambulacral plates, through which no suckers pass. In the Sea-urchin, the dorsal system is contracted to a minimum, forming a small area on the top of the animal, the rows of interambulacral plates which are separated and lie on either side of the ambulacra in the Star-fish being united in the Sea-urchin, and both the ambulacral and the interambulacral systems bent upward, meeting in the small dorsal area above, so as to form a spherical outline. Here the ambulacral and interambulacral systems have taken a great preponderance over the dorsal system, and the same is the case with the Holothurians, in which the same structure is greatly elongated, the dorsal system being thus pushed out as it were to the end of a cylinder, while the ambulacral and interambulacral systems run along its whole length. All Echinoderms without exception have ambulacral tubes, even though in some there are no external ambulacral suckers connected with them. There is one organ peculiar to the class of Echinoderms, the general structure of which may be described here, since it is common to them all, with the exception of the Crinoids, the anatomy of which is, however, so imperfectly understood, that we are hardly justified in assuming that it does not exist even in that order. This organ is known as the madreporic body; it is a small sieve or limestone filter opening into a tube or canal; by means of this tube, which connects with the ambulacral system, the water from without, first filtered through the madreporic body and thus freed from any impurities, is conveyed to the ambulacra. In the more detailed account of the different orders we shall see what is the position of this singular organ in each group, and how it is adapted in them all to their special structure. The development of Echinoderms forms one of the most wonderful chapters in the annals of Natural History. Marvellous as is the embryonic history of the Acalephs, including all the different aspects they assume in the cycle of their growth, it is thrown into the shade by the transformations which Echinoderms undergo before assuming their adult condition. This singular mode of development, although it has features recalling the development of Jelly-fishes from Hydroids, is nevertheless entirely distinct from it, and is known only in the class of Echinoderms. As the whole story is given at length in the chapter on the embryology of the Echinoderms, we need only allude to it here in general terms. We owe the discovery of this remarkable process to Johannes Müller, one of the greatest anatomists of this century. * * * * * HOLOTHURIANS. _Synapta_. (_Synapta tenuis_ AYRES.) [Illustration: Fig. 124. Synapta, natural size.] This is one of the most curious of the Holothurians, and easily observed on account of its transparency, which allows us to see its internal structure. It has a long cylindrical body (Fig. 124) along the length of which run the five rows of ambulacra, which are in this instance closed tubes without any projecting suckers or locomotive organs of any kind attached to them, so that the name is retained only on account of their correspondence in position, and not from any similarity of function to the ambulacra in Star-fishes and Sea-urchins. But though the ambulacra in Synapta are in fact mere water-tubes like the vertical tubes in the Ctenophoræ, by means of which the water, first filtered through the madreporic body, circulates along the skin, they are as organs perfectly homologous with the ambulacra in all other Echinoderms. The mouth has a circular tube around the aperture, and a wreath of branching tentacles encircling it. The habits of these animals are singular. They live in very coarse mud, but they surround themselves with a thin envelope of finer sand, which they form by selecting the small particles with their tentacles, and making a ring around their anterior extremity. This ring they then push down along the length of the body, and continue this process, adding ring after ring, till they have entirely encircled themselves with a sand tube. They move the rings down partly by means of contractions of the body, but also by the aid of innumerable appendages over the whole surface. To the naked eye these appendages appear like little specks on the skin; but under the microscope they are seen to be warts projecting from the surface, each one containing a little anchor with the arms turned upward (Fig. 125). Around the mouth these warts are larger, but do not contain any anchors. It will be seen hereafter that these appendages are homologous with certain organs in other Holothurians, the warts with the anchors corresponding to the limestone pavement covering or partially covering the surface of the Cuvieria, for instance, while those without anchors correspond to the so-called false ambulacra in Pentacta. By means of these appendages, though aided also by the contractions of the body, the Synaptæ move through the mud and collect around themselves the sand tube in which they are encased. Their food is very coarse for animals so delicate in structure. When completely empty of food they are white, perfectly transparent, and the spiral tube forming the digestive cavity may be seen wound up and hanging loosely in the centre for the whole length of the body. In such a condition it is of a pale yellow color. But look at one that is gorged with food. The whole length of the alimentary canal is then crowded with sand, pebbles, and shells, distinctly seen through the transparent skin, and giving a dark gray color to the whole body. They swallow the sand for the sake of the nutritious substance it contains, and having assimilated and digested this, they then eject the harder materials. The motion of the body in consequence of its contractions is much like that of leeches, and on this account these Synaptæ were long supposed to be a transition type between the Radiates and worms. The body grows to a great length, often half a yard and more, but constantly drops large portions from its posterior part, by means of its own contractions, or breaks itself up by the expulsion of the intestines, which are very readily cast out. The tentacles are hollow, consisting of a central rib with branches from either side. In the Synaptæ, as in all the Holothurians, the madreporic body is placed near the mouth, between two of the ambulacra, and opposite the fifth or odd one. The tube, connecting with the central tube around the mouth, by means of which it communicates with the ambulacral tubes, is very short. [Illustration: Fig. 125. Anchor of Synapta; _a_ anchor, _w_ plate upon which anchor is attached; greatly magnified.] _Caudina_. (_Caudina arenata_ STIMPS.) [Illustration: Fig. 126. Caudina arenata; natural size.] Several other Holothurians are frequently met with on our shores. Among them is the _Caudina arenata_ (Fig. 126), a small Holothurian, yellowish in color, and thick in texture, by no means so pretty as the white transparent Synapta; the tentacles are short, resembling a crown of cloves around the mouth. It lives in the sand, and may be found in great numbers on the sandy beaches after a storm. _Cuvieria_. (_Cuvieria squamata_ D. & K.) [Illustration: Fig. 127. Cuvieria; natural size.] The Holothurian of our coast, excelling all the rest in beauty, is the Cuvieria. (Fig. 127.) As it lies on the sand, a solid red lump, with neither grace of form nor beauty of color, even the vividness of its tint growing dull and dead when it is removed from its native element, certainly no one could suspect that it possessed any hidden charm; but place it in a glass bowl with fresh sea-water; the dull red changes to deep vivid crimson, the tentacles creep out (Fig. 127) softly, and slowly, till the mouth is surrounded by a spreading wreath, comparable for richness of tint, and for delicate tracery, to the most beautiful sea-weeds. These tentacles, when fully expanded, are as long as the body itself. A limestone pavement composed of numerous pieces covers almost the whole surface of the animal; this apparatus corresponds, as we have already mentioned, to the warts containing anchors in the Synapta; but in the latter, the limestone particles are smaller, whereas in the Cuvieria they are developed to a remarkable extent. This animal is very sluggish, the ambulacral suckers, found only on three of the tubes, being arranged in such a way as to form a sort of sole on which they creep; the sole is tough and leathery in texture, but free from the limestone pavement described above. The young (Figs. 128, 129) are very common, swimming freely about, and more readily found than the adult; they are of a bright vermilion color, but the tentacles hardly branch at that age, nor is the limestone pavement formed, which gives such a peculiar aspect to the full-grown animal. The young Cuvieria, somewhat older than that represented in Fig. 129, are found in plenty under stones at low-water mark, just after they have given up their nomadic habits, and when the limestone pavement begins to be developed. [Illustration: Fig. 128. Young Cuvieria, much enlarged; _l_ body, _g_ tentacles.] [Illustration: Fig. 129. Somewhat older Cuvieria; _l_ body, _g_ tentacle round mouth, _g'_ testaete of sole, _b_ madreporic tentacle.] _Pentacta_. (_Pentacta frondosa_ JÄG.) The highest of our Holothurians in structure, is the Pentacta. (Fig. 130) It is very rare on our beaches, though occasionally found under stones at low-water mark; farther north, in Maine, and at Grand Manan, it is very common, covering all the rocks near low-water mark. It is a chocolate brown in color, and measures, when fully expanded, some fifteen to eighteen inches in length. Unlike the Cuvieria, the ambulacral suckers are evenly distributed and almost equally developed on all the tubes; between the five rows of ambulacral suckers are scattered irregularly certain appendages resembling suckers, but found on examination not to be true locomotive suckers, and called on that account false ambulacra. These are the organs corresponding to the warts around the mouth of the Synapta. Although the ambulacral suckers are, as we have said, equally developed on all the tubes, yet the Pentacta does not use them indiscriminately as locomotive organs. In Pentacta, as well as in all Holothurians, whether provided with ambulacral suckers, or, like the Synapta and Caudina, deprived of them, the odd ambulacrum, viz. the one placed opposite the madreporic body, is always used to creep upon, and forms the under surface of the animal. [Illustration: Fig. 130. Pentacta frondosa; expanded about one third the natural size.] The correspondence between the different phases of growth in the young Pentacta, and the adult forms of the orders described above, the Synapta, Caudina, Cuvieria, and Pentacta itself, is a striking instance of the way in which embryonic forms illustrate the relative standing of adult animals. In the earlier stages of its development, the ambulacral tubes alone are developed in the Pentacta; in this condition it recalls the lower orders of Holothurians, as the Synapta and Caudina; then a sole is formed by the greater development of three of the ambulacra, and in this state it reminds us of the next in order, the Cuvieria, while it is only in assuming its adult form that the Pentacta develops its other ambulacra, with their many suckers. The Pentacta resembles the Trepang, so highly valued by the Chinese as an article of food, and forms a not unsavory dish, having somewhat the flavor of lobster. * * * * * ECHINOIDS. _Sea-urchin_. (_Toxopneustes drobachiensis_ AG.) [Illustration: Fig. 131. Toxopneustes from above, with all the appendages expanded; natural size.] Sea-urchins (Fig. 131) are found in rocky pools, hidden away usually in cracks and holes. They like to shelter themselves in secluded nooks, and, not satisfied even with the privacy of such a retreat, they cover themselves with sea-weed, drawing it down with their tentacles, and packing it snugly above them, as if to avoid observation. This habit makes them difficult to find, and it is only by parting the sea-weed, and prying into the most retired corners in such a pool, that one detects them. Their motions are slow, and they are less active than either the Star-fish or the Ophiuran, to both of which they are so closely allied. Let us look at one first, as seen from above, with all its various organs fully extended. (Fig. 131.) The surface of the animal is divided by ten zones, like ribs on a melon, only that these zones differ in size, five broad zones alternating with five narrower ones. The broad zones, representing the interambulacral system, are composed of large plates, supporting a number of hard projecting spines, while the narrow zones, forming the ambulacral system, are pierced with small holes, arranged in regular rows, (Fig. 132,) through which extend the tentacles terminating with little cups or suckers. These zones converge towards the summit of the animal, meeting in the small area which here represents the dorsal system; this area is filled by ten plates, five larger ones at the extremity of the interambulacral zones, and five smaller ones at the extremity of the ambulacral zones. (Fig. 132.) In the five larger plates are the ovarian openings, so called because each one is pierced by a small hole through which the eggs are passed out, while in the five smaller plates are the eye-specks. The ovaries themselves consist of long pouches or sacs, carried along the inner side of each ambulacrum; one of these ovarian plates is larger than the others, and forms the madreporic body, being pierced with many minute holes; here, as in the Star-fish, it is placed between two of the ambulacral rows, and opposite the fifth or odd one. Looked at from the under or the oral side, as seen in Fig. 134, the animal presents the mouth, a circular aperture furnished with five teeth in its centre; these five teeth opening into a complicated intestine to be presently described. From the mouth, the ten zones diverge, curving upward to meet in the dorsal area on the summit of the body. (Fig. 133.) [Illustration: Fig. 132. Portion of shell of Fig. 131, with spines rubbed off. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 133. Sea-urchin shell with all the spines removed. (_Agassiz_.)] Let us now examine the appearance and functions of the various appendages on the surface. The tentacles have a variety of functions to perform; they are the locomotive appendages, and for this reason, as we have seen, the zones along which they are placed are called the ambulacra, while the intervening spaces, or the broad zones, are called the interambulacra. It should not be supposed, however, that the locomotive appendages are the only ones to be found on the ambulacra, for spines occur on the narrow as well as on the broad zones, though the larger and more prominent ones are always placed on the latter. The tentacles are also subservient to circulation, for the water which is taken in at the madreporic body passes into all the tentacles, sometimes called on that account water-tubes. Beside these offices the tentacles are constantly busy catching any small prey, and conveying it to the mouth, or securing the bits of sea-weed with which, as has been said, these animals conceal themselves from observation. It is curious to see their fine transparent feelers, fastening themselves by means of the terminal suckers on such a floating piece of sea-weed, drawing it gently down and packing it delicately over the surface of the body. As locomotive appendages, the tentacles are chiefly serviceable on the lower or oral side of the animal, which always moves with the mouth downward. About this portion of the body the tentacles are numerous (Fig. 134) and large, and when the animal advances it stretches them in a given direction, fastens them by means of the suckers on some surface, be it of rock, or shell, or the side of the glass jar in which they are kept, and being thus anchored it drags itself forward. The tentacles are of a violet hue, though when stretched to their greatest length they lose their color, and become almost white and transparent; but in their ordinary condition the color is quite decided, and the rows along which they occur make as many violet lines upon the surface of the body. [Illustration: Fig. 134. Sea-urchin seen from the mouth side. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 135. Magnified spine.] Almost the sole function of the spines seems to be that of protecting the animal, and enabling it to resist the attacks of its enemies, the force of the waves, or any sudden violent contact with the rocks. The spines, when magnified, are seen to be finely ribbed for nearly the whole length (Fig. 135), the bare basal knob serving as the point of attachment for the powerful muscles, which move these spines on a regular ball-and-socket joint, the ball surmounting the tubercles (seen in Fig. 132), which fit exactly in a socket at the base of the spine. In a transverse section of a spine (Fig. 136), we see that the ribs visible on the outside are delicate columns placed closely side by side, and connected by transverse rods forming an exceedingly delicate pattern. Beside the tentacles and the spines, they have other external appendages, of which the function long remained a mystery, and is yet but partially explained; these are the so-called pedicellariæ; they consist of a stem (_s_, Fig. 137), which becomes swollen (_p_, Fig. 137) into a thimble-shaped knob at the end (_t_, Fig. 137); this knob may seem solid and compact at first sight, but it is split into three wedges, which can be opened and shut at will. When open, these pedicellariæ may best be compared to a three-pronged fork, except that the prongs are arranged concentrically instead of on one plane, and, when closed, they fit into one another as neatly as the pieces of a puzzle. [Illustration: Fig. 136. Transverse section of spine; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 137. Pedicellaria of Sea-urchin; _s_ stem, _p_ base of fork, _t_ fork.] If we watch the Sea-urchin after he has been feeding, we shall learn, at least, one of the offices which this singular organ performs in the general economy of the animal. That part of his food which he ejects passes out at an opening on the summit of the body, in the small area where all the zones converge. The rejected particle is received on one of these little forks, which closes upon it like a forceps, and it is passed on from one to the other, down the side of the body, till it is dropped off into the water. Nothing is more curious and entertaining than to watch the neatness and accuracy with which this process is performed. One may see the rejected bits of food passing rapidly along the lines upon which these pedicellariæ occur in greatest number, as if they were so many little roads for the conveying away of the refuse matters; nor do the forks cease from their labor till the surface of the animal is completely clean, and free from any foreign substance. Were it not for this apparatus the food thus rejected would be entangled among the tentacles and spines, and be stranded there till the motion of the water washed it away. These curious little organs may have some other office than this very laudable and useful one of scavenger, and this seems the more probable because they occur over the whole surface of the body, while they seem to pass the excrements only along certain given lines. They are especially numerous about the mouth, where they certainly cannot have this function; we shall see also that they bear an important part in the structure of the Star-fish, where there are no such avenues on the upper surface, for the passage of the refuse food, as occur on the Sea-urchin. [Illustration: Fig. 138. Teeth of Sea-urchin, so-called Lantern of Aristotle.] On opening a Sea-urchin, we find that the teeth (Fig. 138), which seem at first sight only like five little conical wedges around the mouth (Fig. 134), are connected with a complicated intestine, which extends spirally from the lower to the upper floor of the body, festooning itself from one ambulacral zone to the next, till it reaches the summit, where it opens. This intestine leads into the centre of the teeth, the jaws themselves, which sustain the teeth, being made up of a number of pieces, and moved by a complicated system of muscular bands. When the intestine is distended with food, it fills the greater part of the inner cavity; the remaining space is occupied in the breeding season by the genital organs. In a section of the Sea-urchin, one may also trace the tube by which the supply of water, first filtered through the madreporic body, is conveyed to the ambulacra; it extends from the summit of the body to the circular tube surrounding the mouth. _Echinarachnius_. (_Echinarachnius parma_ GRAY.) [Illustration: Fig. 139. Echinarachnius, seen from above, with the spines on part of the shell; _a_ ambulacral zone, _i_ interambulacral zone.] Beside the Toxopneustes (Fig. 131) described above, we have another Sea-urchin very common along our shores. Among children who live near sandy beaches, they are well known as "sand-cakes" (Fig. 139), and indeed they are so flat and round, that, when dried and deprived of their bristles, they look not unlike a cake with a star-shaped figure on its surface. (Fig. 139.) When first taken from the water they are of a dark reddish brown color, and covered with small silky bristles. The disk is so flat, being but very slightly convex on the upper side, that one would certainly not associate it at first sight with the common spherical Sea-urchin or Sea-egg, as the Toxopneustes is sometimes called. But upon closer examination the delicate ambulacral tubes or suckers may be seen projecting from along the line of the ambulacra, as in the spherical Sea-urchin; and though these ambulacra become expanded near the summit into gill-like appendages, forming a sort of rosette in the centre of the disk, they are, nevertheless, the same organs, only somewhat more complicated. When such a disk is dried in the sun, and the bristles entirely removed, the lines of suture of the plates composing it, and corresponding exactly to those of the spherical Sea-urchin, may very readily be seen. (_a_ and _i_, Fig. 139.) [Illustration: Fig. 140. Transverse section of Echinarachnius; _o_ mouth, _e_ _e_ ambulacra, _c_ _m_ ambulacral ramifications, _w_ _w_ interambulacra. (_Agassiz_.)] This flat Sea-urchin or Echinarachnius, as it is called, belongs to a group of Sea-urchins known as Clypeastroids (shield-like Sea-urchins). In a section (Fig. 140) exposing the internal structure, one cannot but be reminded by its general aspect of an Aurelia. Could one solidify an Aurelia it would present much the same appearance; another evidence that all the Radiates are built on one plan, their differences being only so many modes of expressing the same structural idea. The teeth or jaws in this flat Sea-urchin are not so complicated as in the Toxopneustes, being simply flat pieces, arranged around the mouth (_o_, Fig. 140), without the apparatus of muscular bands by means of which the teeth are moved in the other genus. It is a curious fact, considered in relation to the general radiate structure of these animals, that the teeth, instead of moving up and down like the jaws in Vertebrates, or from right to left like those of Articulates, move concentrically, all converging towards the centre. * * * * * STAR-FISHES. _Star-fish_. (_Astracanthion berylinus_ AG.) Although there is the closest homology of parts between the Star-fish and the Sea-urchin, the arrangement of these parts, and the external appearance of the animals, as a whole, are entirely different. The Star-fish has zones corresponding exactly to those of the Sea-urchin, but instead of being drawn together, and united at the summit of the animal, so as to form a spherical outline, they are spread out on one level in the shape of a star. This change in the general arrangement brings the eye-specks to the extremities of the arms, and places the ovarian openings in the angles between the arms. The madreporic body is situated on the upper surface of the disk (Fig. 142), at the angle between two of the arms, and consequently between two of the ambulacra, and opposite the odd one. The tube into which it opens, runs vertically from the upper floor of the disk to the lower, where it connects with the circular tube around the mouth, and thus communicates with all the ambulacral rows. The ambulacral zones which, in the Star-fish, have the shape of a furrow, run along the lower side of each ray (Fig. 141); the interambulacral zones are divided, their plates being arranged in rows along either side of the ambulacral furrows. The ambulacral furrow, like the ambulacral zone in the Sea-urchin, is pierced with numerous holes, alternating with each other in a kind of zigzag arrangement, one hole a little in advance, the next a little farther back, and so on, and through these holes pass the tentacles, terminating in suckers, as in the Sea-urchins, and serving as in them for locomotive organs. The most prominent and strongest spines are arranged upon the large interambulacral plates on both sides of the ambulacral furrows; but the upper surface of the animal is also completely studded with smaller spines, scattered at various distances, apparently without any regular arrangement. (Fig. 142.) [Illustration: Fig. 141. Star-fish ray, seen from mouth side. (_Agassiz_.)] [Illustration: Fig. 142. Star-fish; natural size, seen from above.] The position of the pedicellariæ is quite different from that which they occupy in the Sea-urchin, where they are scattered singly between the spines and tentacles, though more regularly and closely grouped along the lines upon which the refuse food is moved off. In the Star-fish, on the contrary, these singular organs seem to be grouped for some special purpose around the spines, on the upper surface of the body. Every such spine swells near its point of attachment, thus forming a spreading base (Fig. 143), around which the pedicellariæ are arranged in a close wreath, in the centre of which the summit of the spine projects; they differ also from those of the Sea-urchin in having two prongs instead of three. Other pedicellariæ are scattered independently over the surface of the animal, but they are smaller than those forming the clusters and connected with the spines. The function of these organs in the Star-fish remains unexplained; the opening on the upper surface, through which the refuse food is thrown out, is in such a position that they evidently do not serve here the same purpose which renders them so useful to the Sea-urchin. Occasionally they may be seen to catch small prey with these forks, little Crustacea, for instance; but this is probably not their only office. The Star-fish has a fourth set of external appendages in the shape of little water-tubes. (Seen in Fig. 143.) The upper surface of the back consists of a strong limestone network (Fig. 144), and certain openings in this network are covered with a thin membrane through which these water-tubes project. It is supposed that water may be introduced into the body through these tubes; but while there can be no doubt that they are constantly filled with water, and are therefore directly connected with the circulation through the madreporic body (Fig. 145), no external opening has as yet been detected in them. The fact, however, that when these animals are taken out of their native element, the water pours out of them all over the surface of the back, so that they at once collapse and lose entirely their fulness of outline, seems to show that water does issue from those tubes. The ends of the arms are always slightly turned up, and at the summit of each is a red eye-speck. The tentacles about the eye become very delicate and are destitute of suckers. [Illustration: Fig. 143. Single spine of Star-fish, with surrounding appendages; magnified.] [Illustration: Fig. 144. Limestone network of back of Star-fish.] [Illustration: Fig. 145. Madreporic body of Star-fish; magnified.] These animals have singular mode of eating; they place themselves over whatever they mean to feed upon, as a cockle-shell for instance, the back gradually rising as they arch themselves above it; they then turn the digestive sac or stomach inside out, so as to enclose their prey completely, and proceed leisurely to suck out the animal from its shell. Cutting open any one of the arms we may see the yellow folds of the stomach pouches which extend into each ray; within the arms, extending along either side of the upper surface, are also seen the ovaries, like clusters of small yellow berries. Immediately below these, along the centre of the lower floor of each ray, runs the ridge formed by the ambulacral furrow, and upon either side of this ridge are placed the vesicles, by means of which the tentacles may be filled and emptied at the will of the animal; the rest of the cavity of the ray is filled by the liver. The mouth, which is surrounded by a circular tube, is not furnished with teeth, as in the Sea-urchin; but the end of each ambulacral ridge is hard, thus serving the purpose of teeth. _Cribrella_. (_Cribrella oculata_ FORBES.) Our coast, as we have said, is not rich in the variety of Star-fishes. We have two large species, one of a dark-brown color (Fig. 132), the _Astracanthion berylinus_, and the other, the _A. pallidus_, of a pinkish tint; then there is the small Cribrella, inferior in structural rank to the two above mentioned. (Fig. 146.) This pretty little Star-fish presents the greatest variety of colors; some are dyed in Tyrian purple, others have a paler shade of the same hue, some are vermilion, others a bright orange or yellow. A glass dish filled with Cribrellæ might vie with a tulip-bed in gayety and vividness of tints. [Illustration: Fig. 146. Cribrella from above; natural size.] The disk of the Cribrella is smooth, instead of being covered, like the larger Star-fishes, with a variety of prominent appendages. The spines are exceedingly short, crowded like little warts over the surface. It is an interesting fact, illustrating again the correspondence between the adult forms of the lower orders and the phases of growth in the higher ones, that these spines have an embryonic character. One would naturally expect to find that these small spines of the adult Cribrella would differ from those of the other full-grown Star-fishes chiefly in size, that they would be a somewhat modified pattern of the same thing on a smaller scale; but when examined under the microscope, they resemble the spines of the higher orders in their embryonic condition; it is not, in fact, a difference in size merely, but a difference in degree of development. The Cribrella moves usually with two of the arms turned backward, and the three others advanced together, the two posterior ones being sometimes brought so close to each other as to touch for their whole length. _Hippasteria_. (_Hippasteria phrygiana_ AG.) Beside these Star-fishes we have the pentagonal Hippasteria (_Hippasteria phrygiana_ AG.), like a red star with rounded points, found chiefly in deep water, though it is occasionally thrown up on the beaches. It has but two rows of large tentacles, terminating in a powerful sucking disk. The pedicellariæ on this Star-fish resemble large two-pronged clasps, arranged principally along the lower side. The pentagonal Star-fishes of our coast are in striking contrast to the long-armed species we have just described; they are edged with rows of large smooth plates, and do not possess the many prominent spines so characteristic of the ordinary Star-fishes. _Ctenodiscus_. (_Ctenodiscus crispatus_ D. & K.) The Ctenodiscus (_Ctenodiscus crispatus_ D. & K., Fig. 147), an inhabitant of more northern waters, but seeming also to be at home here occasionally, is another pentagonal Star-fish. It lives in deep water, and frequents muddy bottoms. The peculiar structure of their ambulacra has probably some reference to this mode of living, for they are entirely wanting in the sucking disks so characteristic of the other members of this class, and their tentacles are pointed, as if to enable them to work their way through the mud in which they make their home. The pointed tentacles of this genus are characteristic of a large group of Star-fishes, and it is an important fact, as showing their lower standing, that this feature, as well as the pentagonal outline, obtains in the earlier stages of growth of our more common Star-fishes, while in their adult condition they assume the deeply indented star-shaped outline, and have suckers at the extremities of the tentacles. [Illustration: Fig. 147. Ctenodiscus, seen from above; natural size.] _Solaster_. (_Solaster endeca_ FORBES.) We find also among Star-fishes the same tendency to multiplication of parts so common among the Polyps and Acalephs. Our Solaster (_Solaster endeca_ Forbes), for instance, has no less than twelve arms; it inhabits more northern latitudes, though sometimes found in our Bay; on the coast of Maine it is quite common, and occurs in company with another many-rayed species, the _Crossaster papposa_ M. & T. The color of both of these Star-fishes is exceedingly varied; we find in the Solaster as many different hues as in the Cribrella, which it resembles in the structure of its spines, while in the Crossaster bands of different tints of red and purple are arranged concentrically, and the whole surface of the back is spotted with brilliantly-tinged tiny wreaths of water-tubes, crowded round the base of the different spines, which are somewhat similar to those of the Astracanthion. OPHIURANS. _Ophiopholis_. (_Ophiopholis bellis_ LYM.) [Illustration: Fig. 148. Ophiopholis, from above; natural size.] There are but two species of the ordinary forms of Ophiurans in Massachusetts Bay; the white Amphiura (_Amphiura squamata_ Sars), with long slender arms, and the spotted Ophiopholis (Fig. 148), with shorter and stouter arms, and in which the disk is less compact than in the Amphiura, and not so perfectly circular. All Ophiurans are difficult to find, from their exceeding shyness; they hide themselves in the darkest crevices, and though no eye-specks have yet been detected in them, they must have some quick perception of coming danger, for at the gentlest approach they instantly draw away and shelter themselves in their snug retreats. [Illustration: Fig. 149. One arm of Fig. 148; from the mouth side.] [Illustration: Fig. 150. Ambulacral tentacle of Ophiopholis; magnified.] They differ from the Star-fishes in having the disk entirely distinct from the arms; that is, the arms, instead of merging gradually into the disk, start at once from its margin. They have no interambulacral spaces or plates; but the whole upper surface is formed of large hard plates, which extend from the back over the sides of the arms to their lower surface, where they form a straight ridge along the centre. (Fig. 149.) The sides of these plates are pierced with holes, through which the tentacles pass; these have not, like those of the Star-fishes and Sea-urchins, a sucker at the extremity, but are covered with little warts or tubercles (Fig. 150); they are their locomotive appendages, and their way of moving is curious; they first extend one of the arms in the direction in which they mean to move, then bring forward two others to meet them, three arms being thus usually in advance, and then they drag the rest of the body on. They move with much more rapidity, and seem more active, than the Star-fishes; probably owing to the greater independence of the arms from the disk. The spines project along the margin of the arms, and not over the whole surface, the back of the arms being perfectly free from any appendages, and presenting only the surface of the plates. The madreporic body is formed by a plate on the lower side of the disk, in a position corresponding to that which it occupies in the young Star-fish; this plate is one of the large circular shields occupying the interambulacral spaces around the mouth. (Fig. 149.) On each side of the arms, where they join the disk, are slits opening into the ovarian pouches. They have no teeth; but the hard ridge at the oral end of the ambulacra, extending toward the mouth in Star-fish, is still more distinct and sharper in the Ophiurans, approaching more nearly the character of teeth. _Astrophyton_. (_Astrophyton Agassizii_ STIMP.) A singular species of Ophiuran, known among fishermen as the "Basket-fish," (Fig. 151,) is to be found in Massachusetts Bay. Its arms are very long in comparison to the size of the disk, and divide into a vast number of branches. In moving, the animal lifts itself on the extreme end of these branches, standing as it were on tiptoe (Fig. 151), so that the ramifications of the arms form a kind of trellis-work all around it, reaching to the ground, while the disk forms a roof. In this living house with latticed walls small fishes and other animals are occasionally seen to take shelter; but woe to the little shrimp or fish who seeks a refuge there, if he be of such a size as to offer his host a tempting mouthful; he will fare as did the fly who accepted the invitation of the spider. These animals are exceedingly voracious, and sometimes, in their greediness for food, entangle themselves in fishing lines or nets. When disturbed, they coil their arms closely around the mouth, assuming at such times a kind of basket-shape, from which they derive their name. This Basket-fish is honorably connected with our early colonial history, being thought worthy, by no less a personage than John Winthrop, Governor of Connecticut, who, as he says, "had never seen the like," to be sent with "other natural curiosities of these parts" to the Royal Society of London, in 1670. He accompanies the specimen with a minute description, omitting "other particulars, that we may reflect a little upon this elaborate piece of nature." His account is as graphic as it is accurate, and we can hardly give a better idea of the animal than by extracting some portions of it. "This Fish," he says, "spreads itself from a Pentagonal Root, which incompasseth the Mouth (being in the middle), into 5 main Limbs or branches, each of which, just at issuing out from the Body, subdivides itself into two, and each of these 10 branches do again divide into two parts, making 20 lesser branches; each of which again divide into two smaller branches, making in all 40. These again into 80, and these into 160; and these into 320; these into 640; into 1280; into 2560; into 5120; into 10,240; into 20,480; into 40,960; into 81,920; beyond which the further expanding of the Fish could not be certainly trac'd";--a statement which we readily believe, wondering only at the patience which followed this labyrinth so far. [Illustration: Fig. 151. Astrophyton, Basket-fish; in a natural attitude.] In a later letter, after having had an interview with the fisherman who caught the specimen, and, as he says, "asked all the questions I could think needful concerning it," the Governor proceeds to tell us that it was caught "not far from the Shoals of Nantucket (which is an Island upon the Coast of New England)," and that when "first pull'd out of the water it was like a basket, and had gathered itself round like a Wicker-basket, having taken fast hold upon that bait on the hook which he" (the fisherman) "had sunk down to the bottom to catch other Fish, and having held that within the surrounding brachia would not let it go, though drawn up into the Vessel; until, by lying a while on the Deck, it felt the want of its natural Element; and then voluntarily it extended itself into the flat round form, in which it appear'd when present'd to your view." The Governor goes on to reflect in a philosophical vein upon the purpose involved in all this complicated machinery. "The only use," he says, "that could be discerned of all that curious composure wherewith nature had adorned it seems to be to make it as a purse-net to catch some other fish, or any other thing fit for its food, and as a basket of store to keep some of it for future supply, or as a receptacle to preserve and defend the young ones of the same kind from fish of prey; if not to feed on them also (which appears probable the one or the other), for that sometimes there were found pieces of Mackerel within that concave. And he, the Fisherman, told me that once he caught one, which had within the hollow of its embracements a very small fish of the same kind, together with some piece or pieces of another fish, which was judged to be of a Mackerel. And that small one ('tis like) was kept either for its preservation or for food to the greater; but, being alive, it seems most likely it was there lodged for safety, except it were accidentally drawn within the net, together with that piece of fish upon which it might be then feeding." The account concludes by saying, "This Fisherman could not tell me of any name it hath, and 'tis in all likelihood yet nameless, being not commonly known as other Fish are. But until a fitter _English_ name be found for it, why may it not be called (in regard of what hath been before mentioned of it) a _Basket-Fish_, or a _Net-Fish_, or a _Purs-net-Fish_?" And so it remains to this day as the Governor of Connecticut first christened it, the Basket-fish. * * * * * CRINOIDS. [Illustration: Fig. 152. Fossil Pentacrinus.] The Crinoids are very scantily represented in the present creation. They had their day in the earlier geological epochs, when for some time they remained the sole representatives of their class, and were then so numerous that the class of Echinoderms, with only one order, seemed as full and various as it now does with five. The different forms they assumed in the successive geological periods are particularly instructive; these older Crinoids combined characters which foreshadowed the advent of the Ophiurans, the true Star-fishes, and the Sea-urchins; and so prominently were their prophetic characters developed, that many of them are readily mistaken for Star-fishes or Sea-urchins. In later times the group of Crinoids has been gradually dwindling in number and variety. Its present representatives are the Pentacrini of Porto Rico and the coast of Portugal, the lovely little Rhizocrinus of the Atlantic, dredged first by the younger Sars on the coast of Norway, attached throughout life to a stem, and the Comatula, which has a stem only in the early stages of its growth, but is free when adult. The Pentacrinus bears the closer relation to the more ancient Crinoids (Fig. 152), which were always supported on a stem, while it is only in more recent periods that we find the free Crinoids, corresponding to the Comatula. _Comatula_. (_Alecto meridionalis_ AG.) One large species of Comatula (_Alecto Eschrichtii_ M. & T.) is known on our coast, off the shores of Greenland, where it has been dredged at a depth of about one hundred and fifty fathoms, and young specimens of the same species have been found as far south as Eastport, Maine. The species selected for representation here, however, (Fig. 153,) is one quite abundant along the shores of South Carolina. It is introduced instead of the northern one, because the latter is so rare that it is not likely to fall into the hands of our readers. The annexed drawing (Fig. 154, magnified from Fig. 153) represents a group of the young of the Charleston Comatula, still attached to the parent body by their stems, and in various stages of development. At first sight, the Comatula, or, as it is sometimes called, the feather-star, resembles an Ophiuran; but on a closer examination we find that the arms are made up of short joints; and along the sides of the arms, attached to each joint, are appendages resembling somewhat the beards of a feather, and giving to each ray the appearance of a plume; hence the name of feather-star. On one side the arms are covered with a tough skin, through which project the ambulacræ, and on the same side of the disk are situated the mouth and the anus; the latter projects in a trumpet-shaped proboscis. On the opposite side of the disk the Comatula is covered with plates, arranged regularly around a central plate, which is itself covered with long cirri. [Illustration: Fig. 153. Comatula (Living Crinoid) seen from the back; a group of young Comatulæ attached to parent.] [Illustration: Fig. 154. Magnified view of the group of young Comatulæ of Fig. 153.] We are indebted to Thompson for the explanation of the true relations of the young Comatula to the present Pentacrinus and the fossil Crinoids. Supposing these young to be full-grown animals, he at first described them as living representatives of the genus Pentacrinus; it was only after he had watched their development, and ascertained by actual observation that they dropped from their stem, to lead an independent life as free Comatulæ, that he fully understood their true connection with the past history of their kind, as well as with their contemporaries. In Fig. 153, a faint star-like dot (_y_) may be seen attached to the side of the disk by a slight line. In Fig. 154, we have that minute dot as it appears under the microscope, magnified many diameters; when it is seen to be a cirrus of a Comatula, with three small Pentacrinus-like animals growing upon it, in different stages of development. In the upper one, the branching arms and the disk, with its many plates, are already formed; and though in the figure the rays are folded together, they are free, and can be opened at will. In the larger of the two lower buds, the plates of the disk are less perfect, and the arms are straight and simple, without any ramifications, though they are free and movable, whereas, in the smaller one, they are folded within the closed bud. * * * * * EMBRYOLOGY OF ECHINODERMS. All Radiates have a special mode of development, as distinct for each class as is their adult condition, and in none are the stages of growth more characteristic than in the Echinoderms. In the Polyps, the division of the body into chambers, so marked a feature of their ultimate structure, takes place early; in the Acalephs, the tubes which traverse the body are hollowed out of its mass in the first stages of the embryonic growth, and we shall see that in the Echinoderms also, the distinctive feature of their structure, viz. the enclosing of the organs by separate walls, early manifests itself. This peculiarity gives to the internal structure of these animals so individual a character, that some naturalists, overlooking the law of radiation, as prevalent in them as in any members of this division, have been inclined to separate them, as a primary division of the animal kingdom, from the Polyps and Acalephs, in both of which the body-wall furnishes the walls of the different internal cavities, either by folding inwardly in such a manner as to enclose them, as in the Polyps, or by the cavities themselves being hollowed out of the general mass, as in the Acalephs. _Star-fish_. (_Astracanthion_.) [Illustration: Fig. 155. Egg of Star-fish.] [Illustration: Fig. 156. Egg of Star-fish in which the yolk has been divided into two segments.] [Illustration: Fig. 157. Egg in which there are eight segments of the yolk.] The egg of the Star-fish, when first formed, is a transparent, spherical body, enclosing the germinative vesicle and dot. (See Fig. 155.) As soon as these disappear, the segmentation of the yolk begins; it divides first into two portions (see Fig. 156), then into four, then into eight, and so on; but when there are no more than eight bodies of segmentation (see Fig. 157), they already show a disposition to arrange themselves in a hollow sphere, enclosing a space within, and by the time the segmentation is completed, they form a continuous spherical shell. At this time the egg, or, as we will henceforth call it, the embryo, escapes and swims freely about. (See Fig. 158.) The wall next begins to thin out on one side, while on the opposite side, which by comparison becomes somewhat bulging, a depression is formed (_m_ _a_, Fig. 159), gradually elongating into a loop hanging down within the little animal, and forming a digestive cavity. (_d_, Fig. 160.) At this stage it much resembles a young Actinia. The loop spreads somewhat at its upper extremity, and at its lower end is an opening, which at this period of the animal's life serves a double purpose, that of mouth and anus also, for at this opening it both takes in and rejects its food. We shall see that before long a true mouth is formed, after which this first aperture takes its place opposite the mouth, retaining only the function of the anus. Presently from the upper bulging extremity of the digestive cavity, two lappets, or little pouches, project (_w_ _w'_ Fig. 161); they shortly become completely separated from it, and form two distinct hollow cavities (_w_ _w'_, Fig. 162). Here begins the true history of the young Star-fish, for these two cavities will develop into two water-tubes, on one of which the back of the Star-fish, that is, its upper surface, covered with spines, will be developed, while on the other, the lower surface, with the suckers and tentacles, will arise. At a very early stage one of these water-tubes (_w'_, Fig. 163) connects with a smaller tube opening outwards, which is hereafter to be the madreporic body (_b_, Fig. 163). Almost until the end of its growth, these two surfaces, as we shall see, remain separate, and form an open angle with one another; it is only toward the end of the development that they unite, enclosing between them the internal organs, which have been built up in the mean while. [Illustration: Fig. 158. Larva just hatched from egg; a thickened pole.] [Illustration: Fig. 159. Larva somewhat older than Fig. 158; _m_ _a_ depression at thickened pole.] [Illustration: Fig. 160. Larva where the depression has become a digestive cavity _d_, opening at _a_.] [Illustration: Fig. 161. Earlets, _w_ _w'_ (water-tubes), developed at the extremity of the digestive cavity _d_; _m_ mouth.] [Illustration: Fig. 162. More advanced larva; _a_ _d_ _c_ digestive system, _v_ vibratile chord, _m_ mouth.] [Illustration: Fig. 163. Profile view of larva; _b_ madreporic opening, _w'_ earlet, _a_ _d_ digestive system, _m_ mouth, _v_ _v'_ vibratile chord.] [Illustration: Fig. 164. Larva showing mode of formation of mouth _m_, by bending of digestive cavity _o_.] At about the same time with the development of these two pouches, so important in the animal's future history, the digestive cavity becomes slightly curved, bending its upper end sideways till it meets the outer wall, and forms a junction with it (_m_, Fig. 164). At this point, when the juncture takes place, an aperture is presently formed, which is the true mouth. The digestive sac, which has thus far served as the only internal cavity, now contracts at certain distances, and forms three distinct, though connected cavities, as in Fig. 163; viz. the oesophagus leading directly from the mouth (_m_) to the second cavity or stomach (_d_), which opens in its turn into the third cavity, the alimentary canal. Meanwhile the water-tubes have been elongating till they now surround the digestive cavity, extending on the other side of it beyond the mouth, where they unite, thus forming a Y-shaped tube, narrowing at one extremity, and dividing into two branches toward the other end. (Fig. 165.) [Illustration: Fig. 165. Larva in which arms are developing, lettering as before; _e'_ _e''_ _e'''_ _e^4_ _e^5_ _e^6_ arms, _o_ oesophagus.] On the surface where the mouth is formed, and very near it on either side, two small arcs arise, as _v_ in Fig. 162; these are cords consisting entirely of vibratile cilia. They are the locomotive organs of the young embryo, and they gradually extend until they respectively enclose nearly the whole of the upper and lower half of the body, forming two large shields or plastrons. (Figs. 165, 166.) The corners of these shields project, slightly at first (Fig. 165), but elongating more and more until a number of arms are formed, stretching in various directions (Figs. 166, 167), and, by their constant upward and downward play, moving the embryo about in the water. [Illustration: Fig. 166. Adult larva, so-called Brachiolaria, lettering as before; _r_ back of young Star-fish, _t_ tentacles of young Star-fish, _f_ _f'_ brachiolar appendages.] [Illustration: Fig. 167. Fig. 166 seen in profile, lettering as before.] [Illustration: Fig. 168. Star-fish which has just resorbed the larva, seen from the back; _b_ madreporic opening.] [Illustration: Fig. 169. Fig. 168, seen from the mouth side; _m_ mouth, _t_ tentacles.] [Illustration: Fig. 170. Young Star-fish which has become symmetrical, seen from the back; _t'_ odd tentacle.] At this stage of the growth of the embryo, we have what seems quite a complicated structure, and might be taken for a complete animal; this is after all but the prelude to its true Star-fish existence. While these various appendages of the embryo have been forming, changes of another kind have taken place; on one of the two water-tubes above mentioned (_w'_), at the end nearest the digestive cavity, a number of lobes are formed (_t_, Fig. 166); this is the first appearance of the tentacles. In the same region of the opposite water-tube (_w_) a number of little limestone rods arise, which eventually unite to form a continuous network; this is the beginning of the back of the Star-fish (_r_, Fig. 166), from which the spines will presently project. When this process is complete, the whole embryo, with the exception of the part where the young Star-fish is placed, grows opaque; it fades, as it were, begins to shrink and contract, and presently drops to the bottom, where it attaches itself by means of short arms (_f_ _f'_, Fig. 166), covered with warts, which act as suckers, and are placed just above the mouth. As soon as the Star-fish has thus secured itself, it begins to resorb the whole external structure described above; the water-tubes, the plastrons, and the complicated system of arms connected with them, disappear within the little Star-fish; it swallows up, so to speak, the first stage of its own existence; it devours its own larva, which now becomes part and parcel of the new animal. Next the two surfaces, the back and lower surface, on which the arms are now marked out, while the tentacles, suckers, and spines have already assumed a certain prominence, approach each other. At this time, however, the arms are not in one plane; both the back and the lower surface are curved in a kind of spiral; they begin to flatten; the arms spread out on one level,--and now the two surfaces draw together, meeting at the circumference, and enclosing between them the internal organs, which, as we have seen, are already formed and surrounded by walls of their own, before the two walls of the body, close thus over them. Fig. 168 represents the upper surface of the Star-fish just before this junction takes place. The complicated structure of the Brachiolaria, as the larva of the Star-fish has been called, hitherto so essential to the life of the animal, by which it has been supported, moved about in the water, and provided with food during its immature condition, has made a final contribution to its further development by the process of resorption described above, and has wholly disappeared within the Star-fish. At this stage the rays are only just marked out, as five lobes around the margin; Fig. 169 represents the lower surface at the same moment, with the open mouth (_m_), around which the tentacles (_t_) are just beginning to appear; while Fig. 170 shows us the animal at a more advanced stage, after the two surfaces have united. It has now somewhat the outline of a Maltese cross, the five arms being more distinctly marked out, while the tentacles have already attained a considerable length (Fig. 171), and the dorsal plates have become quite distinct. Fig. 172 represents the same animal, at the same age, in profile. This period, in which we have compared the form of the Star-fish to that of a Maltese cross, is one of long duration; two or three years must elapse before the arms will elongate sufficiently to give it a star-shaped form, and before the pedicellariæ make their appearance, and it is only then that it can be at once recognized as the young of our common Star-fish. Even then, after it has assumed its ultimate outline, it lacks some features of the adult, having only two rows of tentacles, whereas the full-grown Star-fish has four. [Illustration: Fig. 171. Lower side of ray of young Star-fish; _m_ mouth, _b_ madreporic body, _e_ eye-speck.] [Illustration: Fig. 172. Young Star-fish seen in profile; _t'_ odd tentacle at extremity of arm.] _Sea-urchins_. [Illustration: Fig. 173, 174, 175. Young larvæ of Toxopneustes in different stages of development; _e'_-_e^iv_ arms, _v-v''_ vibratile chord, _w_ _w'_ earlets (water-tubes), _a_ _o_ _d_ _c_ digestive system, _r'-r'''_ solid rods of arms, _m_ mouth, _b_ madreporic opening.] This extraordinary process of development which we have analyzed thus at length in the history of the Star-fish, but which is equally true of all Echinoderms, has been hitherto described (so far as it was known) under the name of the plutean stages of growth. In these early stages the young, or the so called larvæ of Echinoderms, have received the name of Pluteus on account of their ever-changing forms. Let us look for a moment at the plutean stages of the Sea-urchin, as they differ in some points from those of the Star-fish. In the Pluteus of our common Sea-urchins (see Fig. 176), the arms are supported by a framework of solid limestone rods, which do not exist in that of the Star-fish, and which give to the larva of the Sea-urchin a remarkable rigidity. They are formed very early, as may be seen in Fig. 173, representing the little Sea-urchin before any arms are discernible, though the limestone rods are quite distinct. Figs. 173, 174, 175, may be compared with Figs. 160, 162, 165, of the young Star-fish, where it will be seen that the general outline is very similar, though, on account of the limestone rods, the Pluteus of the Sea-urchin seems somewhat more complicated. In Fig. 176 the young Sea-urchin has so far encroached upon the Pluteus that it forms the essential part of the body, the arms and rods appearing as mere appendages. Fig. 177 shows the same animal when we looked down upon it in its natural attitude; the Sea-urchin is carried downward, and the arms stretch in every direction around it. In Fig. 178 the Plutens is already in process of absorption; in Fig. 179 it has wholly disappeared; in Figs. 180 and 181 we have different stages of the little Sea-urchin, with its spines and suckers of a large size and in full activity. The appearance of the Sea-urchin, as soon as this larva or Pluteus is completely absorbed, is much more like that of the adult than is the Star-fish at the same stages, in which, as we have seen, there is a transition period of considerable duration. [Illustration: Fig. 176. Adult larva of Toxopneustes, _f_ brachiolar appendages.] [Illustration: Fig. 177. Fig. 176 seen endways.] [Illustration: Fig. 178. The Sea-urchin resorbing the arms of the larva.] [Illustration: Fig. 179. Half a young Sea-urchin immediately after resorption of the larva; _s''_ _s''_ spines, _t'_ _t'_ ambulacral tentacles.] [Illustration: Fig. 180. Young Sea-urchin older than Fig. 179; _t_ _t'_ tentacles, _s''_ _s'''_ spines.] [Illustration: Fig. 181. Still older Sea-urchin; _t_ _t_ tentacles, _a_ anus, _p_ pedicellariæ; shell one sixteenth of an inch in diameter.] _Ophiurans_. Fig. 183 represents an Ophiuran undergoing the same process of growth, at a period when the larva is most fully developed, and before it begins to fail. By the limestone rods which support the arms, the Pluteus of the Ophiuran, here represented, resembles that of the Sea-urchin more than that of the Star-Fish, while by the character of the water-tubes and by its internal organization it is more closely allied to the latter. It differs from both, however, in the immense length of two of the arms; these arms being the last signs of its plutean condition to disappear; when the young Ophiuran has absorbed almost the whole Pluteus, it still goes wandering about with these two immense appendages, which finally share the fate of all the rest. Fig. 182 represents an Ophiuran at the moment when the process of resorption is nearly completed, though the arms of the Pluteus, greatly diminished, are still to be seen protruding from the surface of the animal. [Illustration: Fig. 182. Ophiuran which has resorbed the whole larva except the two long arms, _y_ _y'_ limestone rods of young Ophiuran, _r_ middle of back, lettering as in Fig. 183.] [Illustration: Fig. 183. Larva of Ophiuran; _e'-e^iv_ arms, _r'_ _r^iv_ solid rods, _v_ _v'_ vibratile chord, _w_ _w'_ water system, _b_ madreporic body, _a_ _d_ digestive system.] [Illustration: Fig. 184 Young Ophiuran which has resorbed the whole larva; _r_ middle plate of back.] [Illustration: Fig. 185 Cluster of eggs of Star-fishes placed over the mouth of the parent.] This mode of development, though common to all Echinoderms, appears under very different conditions in some of them. There are certain Star-fishes, Ophiurans, and Holothurians, passing through their development under what is known as the sedentary process. The eggs are not laid, as in the cases described above, but are carried in a sort of pouch over the mouth of the parent animal, where they remain till they attain a stage corresponding to that of Fig. 168 of the Star-fish, and having much the same cross-shaped outline, when they escape from the pouch (as the young Ophiopholis, Fig. 184), and swim about for the first time as free animals. Fig. 185 represents a cluster of young Star-fishes of the sedentary kind at about this period. But while this mode of growth seems at first sight so different, we shall find, if we look a little closer, that it is essentially the same, and that, though the circumstances under which the development takes place are changed, the process does not differ. The little Star-fish or Ophiuran, in the pouch, becomes surrounded by the same plutean structure as those which are laid in the egg; it is only more contracted to suit the narrower space in which they have to move; and the water-tubes on which the upper and lower surfaces of the body arise, the shields, spreading out into arms at the corners, exist, fully developed or rudimentary, in the one as much as in the other, and when no longer necessary to its external existence they are resorbed in the same way in both cases. This singular process of development has no parallel in the animal kingdom, although the growth of the young Echinoderm on the Brachiolaria may at first sight remind us of the budding of the little Medusa on the Hydroid stock, or even of the passage of the insect larva into the chrysalis. But in both these instances, the different phases of the development are entirely distinct; the Hydroid stock is permanent, continuing to live and grow and perform its share in the cycle of existence to which it belongs, after the Medusa has parted from it to lead a separate life, or if the latter remains attached to the parent stock, after it has entered upon its own proper functions. The life of the caterpillar, chrysalis and butterfly, is also distinct and definitely marked; the moment when the animal passes from one into the other cannot be mistaken, although the different phases are carried on successively and not simultaneously, as in the case of the Acalephs. But in the Echinoderms, on the contrary, though the aspect of the Brachiolaria, or plutean stage, is so different from that of the adult form, that no one would suppose them to belong to the same animal, yet these two stages of growth pass so gradually into one another, that one cannot say when the life of the larva ceases, and that of the Echinoderm begins. The bearing of embryology upon classification is becoming every day more important, rendering the processes of development among animals one of the most interesting and instructive studies to which the naturalist can devote himself, in the present state of his science. The accuracy of this test, not only as explaining the relations between animals now living, but as giving the clew to their connection with those of past times, cannot but astonish any one who makes it the basis of his investigations. The comparison of embryo forms with fossil types is of course difficult, and must in many instances be incomplete, for while, in the one case, death and decay have often half destroyed the specimen, in the other, life has scarcely stamped itself in legible characters on the new being. Yet, whenever such comparisons have been successfully carried out, the result is always the same; the present representatives of the fossil types recall in their embryonic condition the ancient forms, and often explain their true position in the animal kingdom. One of the most remarkable examples of this in the type we are now considering, is that of the Comatula already mentioned. Its condition in the earlier stages of growth, when it is provided with a stem, at once shows its relation to the old stemmed Crinoids, the earliest representatives of the class of Echinoderms. These coincidences are still more striking among living animals, where they can be more readily and fully traced, and often give us a key to their relative standing, which our knowledge of their anatomical structure fails to furnish. This is perhaps nowhere more distinctly seen than in the type of Radiates, where the Acalephs in their first stages of growth, that is, in their Hydroid condition, remind us of the adult forms among Polyps, showing the structural rank of the Acalephs to be the highest, since they pass beyond a stage which is permanent with the Polyps; while the adult forms of the Acalephs have in their turn a certain resemblance to the embryonic phases of the class next above them, the Echinoderms. Within the limits of the classes, the same correspondence exists as between the different orders; the embryonic forms of the higher Polyps recall the adult forms of the lower ones, and the same is true of the Acalephs as far as these phenomena have been followed and compared among them. In the class of Echinoderms the comparison has been carried out to a considerable extent, their classification has hitherto been based chiefly upon the ambulacral system, so characteristic of the class, but so unequally developed in the different orders. This places the Holothurians, in which the ambulacral system has its greatest development, at the head of the class; next to them come the Sea-urchins or Echinoids; then the Star-fishes; then the Ophiurans and Crinoids, in which the ambulacral system is reduced to a minimum. Another basis for classification in this type, which gives the same result, is the indication of a bilateral symmetry in some of the orders. In the Holothurians, for instance, there is a decided tendency toward the establishment of a posterior and anterior extremity, of a right and left, an upper and lower side of the body. In the Sea-urchins, in many of which the mouth is out of centre, placed nearer one side than the other, this tendency is still apparent, while in the three lower groups, the Star-fishes, Ophiurans, and Crinoids, it is almost entirely lost, in the equal division of identical parts radiating from a common centre. A comparison of the embryonic and adult forms in these orders, confirms entirely this classification based upon structural features. The Star-fishes, in their earlier stages, resemble the mature Ophiurans, while the Crinoids, the lowest group of all, retain throughout their whole existence many features characteristic of the embryonic conditions of the higher Echinoderms. In this principle of classification, already so fertile in results, we may hope to find, in some instances, the solution of many perplexing points respecting the structural rank of animals, the confirmation of classifications already established; in others, an insight into the true relations of groups which have hitherto been divided upon purely arbitrary grounds. * * * * * DISTRIBUTION OF LIFE IN THE OCEAN. We have seen that while our bay is rich in certain species, it is wholly deficient or but scantily supplied with others, and that the character of the animals inhabiting its waters is more or less directly connected with general physical conditions. Such an area, limited though it be, gives us some insight into the laws which, in their wider application, control the distribution of marine life along the shores of the most extensive continents. The coast of Massachusetts, taken as a whole, is like that of New England generally, a rocky coast; yet it has its sandy and muddy beaches, and though it lies for a great part open to the sea, it has nevertheless its sheltered harbors, its quiet bays and snug recesses. A comparison of these limited localities with far more extensive reaches of shore, where similar physical conditions prevail, shows that they reproduce, in fainter and less various characters of course, in proportion to their narrower boundaries, but still with a certain fidelity, the same combinations of animal and vegetable life. In other words, a sandy beach, however small, gives us some idea of the nature of the animals we may look for on any sandy coast, as, for instance, clams of various kinds, razor-shells, quahogs, snails, &c., creatures who can penetrate the sand, drag themselves through it or over it, leaving their winding trails as they go, and to whom the conditions prevailing in such spots are genial. So the narrowest mud flat on the sea-shore or muddy beach will give us the same dead and inanimate aspect which characterizes a more extensive coast of like character, where the gases always generated in mud are deadly to many kinds of animals. The beings who find a home in such localities are of closely allied species, chiefly a variety of worms, who burrow their way into the mud, and seem to court the miasma so fatal to other creatures. The same is true of any stony beach or rocky shore not more than a quarter of a mile in length; it gives us an idea of the animal population on any similar coast of greater extent. These correspondences are of course modified by differences in climatic conditions. The animals on a sandy beach or a rocky shore, on the coast of Great Britain, for instance, are not absolutely identical with those of a sandy beach or a rocky shore on the coast of New England, but they are more or less nearly related to them. Naturalists refer to this reiteration, all the world over, of like organic combinations under similar circumstances, when they speak of "representative species." The aggregate result is the same, though the individual forms are slightly modified. And here lies one secret of the infinite variety in nature, by which the old seems ever new, and the same thought has an eternal freshness and originality, endlessly repeated, yet never hackneyed. In this sense our bay presents, on a miniature scale, a variety of physical and organic combinations, which may be compared to those more extensive divisions in the geographical distribution of animals and plants, called by naturalists zoölogical or botanical provinces or districts, the animal and vegetable populations of which are technically designated as their faunæ and floræ. Such organic realms, as we may call them, have long been recognized on land, and the most extensive among them are easily distinguished. No one will fail to recognize the tropical zone, with its royal dynasty of palms and all the accompanying glories of a tropical vegetation, its birds of brilliant plumage, its large Mammalia, lions, tigers, panthers, elephants, and its great rivers haunted by gigantic reptiles. Nor is the representation of vegetable and animal life less characteristic in the temperate zone, where the oak is monarch of the woods, with all his attendant court of elms, walnuts, beeches, birches, maples, and the like, where birds of more sober hues, but sweeter voices, take the place of the brilliant parrots and many-tinted humming-birds of the tropical forest; while buffaloes, bears, wolves, foxes, and deer represent the larger Mammalia. In the arctic zone, though marked by peculiar and distinctive features, vegetation has dwindled to a minimum; the birds are chiefly gulls and ducks, which go there for the breeding season in the summer, and the reindeer and polar bears are almost sole possessors of the snow and ice-fields; but this meagreness in the representation of the larger land Mammalia is amply compensated in the numbers of heavy aquatic Mammalia, the whales, walruses, seals, and porpoises of the Arctic seas. During the last half-century, since the geographical distribution of animals and plants has become a subject of more careful investigation among naturalists, these broad zones of the earth's surface, with their characteristic populations and vegetation, have been subdivided, according to more limited and special combinations of organic forms, into narrower zoölogical and botanical areas. The application of these results to marine life is however of much more recent date, and indeed it would seem at first sight, as if the water, from its own nature, could hardly impose a barrier so impassable as the land. The localization of the marine faunæ and floræ is nevertheless as distinct as that of terrestrial animals and plants, and late investigations have done much to explain the connection of this distribution with physical conditions. A glance at the coast of our own continent, starting from the high north and making the circuit of its shores, from Baffin's Bay to Behring's Straits, will show us to what a variety of physical influences the animals who live along its shores are subjected. On the shores of Baffin's Bay, especially on the inner coast of Greenland, where the glaciers push their way down to the very brink of the water, and annually launch their southward-bound icebergs, we shall hardly expect to find a very abundant littoral fauna. On its western shore, where the ice does not advance so far, and a greater surface of rock is exposed, the circumstances are more favorable to the development of animal life. Here abound the winged Mollusks (Pteropods), often swept down to the coast of Nova Scotia by the cold current from Baffin's Bay; the "whale feed," as the fishermen call them, because the whales devour them voraciously. Here occur also many compound Mollusks, especially a variety of Ascidians, and the highly colored stocks of Bryozoa. With them is found the Comatula of the northern waters, one of the few modern Crinoids, and beside these a number of Star-fishes, Sea-urchins, and Holothurians, not differing so essentially from those already described as to require special mention. Along the shore of Labrador and Newfoundland, the coast is wholly rocky, and especially about Newfoundland it is deeply indented with bays. Here there is ample opportunity for the growth of certain kinds of animals in sheltered nooks. The number of species is, however, much greater along the shores of Maine, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick than in Labrador, owing no doubt to the milder climate. The beautiful shore of Maine, with its countless islands, and broken, picturesque outline, is very rich in species. Parts of this coast are remarkable for a variety of naked Mollusks, as well as for the great numbers of bright-colored Actiniæ, and also for the more brilliant kinds of Holothurians, the Cuvieria, and the like. The latter are especially abundant in the Bay of Fundy, and here also occurs the only Northern representative on our coast of the Sea-fans or Gorgoniæ, so common on the shores of Florida. Farther south, from Cape Cod to Cape Hatteras, the character of the coast changes; it becomes more sandy, and though here and there the aspect is varied by a rocky promontory or a stony beach, yet the general character is flat and sandy. With this new character of the shore, the fauna is also greatly modified, and it is worthy of remark, that while thus far the representative species have reflected the character of animals to the north of them, they now begin to represent rather those of the Carolina shores. South of Cape Cod come in a kind of Scallop and Periwinkle, very different from the larger Scallops found on the coast of Maine and the British Provinces; our Sea-urchin is replaced by the Echinocidaris, with its few long spines, and an entirely new set of Crustacea and Worms make their appearance on this more sandy bottom. And here we must not forget that not only is the aspect of the animal life changed, as we pass from a rock-bound to a sandy coast, but that of the vegetation also. The various many-tinted sea-weeds of the rocky shore disappear almost entirely, and their place is but poorly supplied by the long eel-grass, which is almost the only marine plant to be found in such a locality. Beside its more sandy character, the coast from Cape Cod to Cape Hatteras is affected by the large amount of fresh water poured into the sea along its whole line, greatly modifying the character of the shore animals. The Hudson, the Delaware, the Susquehanna, the Potomac, the James, the Roanoke, and the large estuaries connected with some of these rivers, give a very peculiar character to the shore, and bring down, not only a vast supply of fresh water, but also a large quantity of detritus of all sorts from the land. Under these circumstances life would be impossible for many of the animals which live farther north. The only locality on the North Atlantic shore, where the conditions are somewhat similar, is at the mouth of the St. Lawrence, that great drainage-bed through which the Canadian lakes empty their superfluous waters into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The whole coast of the Carolinas, from Cape Hatteras to Florida, is a sandy beach; but though in this respect it resembles that immediately to the north of it, it differs greatly in other features. Comparatively little fresh water is poured into the ocean along this shore, and its more southerly range, instead of being protected by sand-spits like Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds, or broken by estuaries and inlets like the coast of Virginia, lies broadly open to the sea. On its extensive beaches we have the large Pholas, burrowing deep below the surface, and the Cerianthus, those long, cylindrical Actiniæ, enclosed in sheaths, with their bright crowns of gayly-colored tentacles; the free colonies of Halcyonoids abound also on this coast, and a new set of Sea-urchins (Spatangoids and Clypeastroids) make their appearance. Farther south, along the Florida coast, a new element comes in, that of the coral reefs, enclosing shallow channels near the shore, and thus providing sheltered harbors on their leeward side, while on their seaward side they slope steeply to the ocean. Beside this, the reef itself affords a home for a great variety of creatures, who bore their way into it and live in its recesses, as some insects live in the bark of trees. Perhaps a more favorable combination of circumstances for the development of marine life does not exist anywhere than about the coral reefs of Florida, and certainly nowhere is there a more rich and varied littoral fauna, especially on their western shore within the Gulf of Mexico. Here swims the Portuguese Man-of-War, borne gayly along on the surface of the water by its brilliant float, here the blue Velella sets its oblique sail to the wind, and hosts of the lighter and more brightly tinted corals fringe the shore with a many-colored shrubbery. In these waters are also found the blue and yellow Angel-fish, the Parrot-fish (Scarus), and the strange Porcupine-fish (Diodon). Vegetable life is comparatively scanty in these tropical waters, where there are scarcely any sea-weeds, except the corallines or limestone Algæ of the reefs. The shore of the Gulf of Mexico, as a whole, has much the same character as that of the Carolinas, until we reach the point where the mountains and plateau of Mexico come down to the coast. From this point to the Isthmus of Panama the coast is again rocky. Crossing the Isthmus and following the Pacific shore of the continent northward, we find a sandy open shore alternating with rocky beaches as far north as Acapulco. Along this coast there is to be found a great variety of corals, especially Sea-fans, growing on the rocks, but no reef. The Pocillopora, an Acalephian coral, the Pacific representative of the Millepore of Florida, is especially abundant. On the peninsula of Lower California we come again upon a rocky coast, with steep bluffs, extending into the sea. Within the Gulf of California are found, on its sandy coast, peculiar kinds of Sea-urchins, Spatangoids, and Clypeastroids, which occur nowhere else on this coast. From Cape St. Lucas up to the Straits of Fuca, with the exception of the large estuary forming the Bay of San Francisco, there are scarcely a couple of harbors of any consequence. The whole shore is most inhospitable, and the violent northwest winds in summer, and the southeast winds in winter, render it still more bleak and difficult of approach. In consequence of these conditions, the fauna is scanty along a great part of the shore; the best spots for collecting are the beaches, near the head of the peninsula, opposite the islands of Santa Barbara and San Diego, and that within the harbor of San Francisco. On the former, large Craw-fishes abound (Palinurus), akin to those of Florida, though specifically different from them. In the latter, the great amount of fresh water prevents the fauna from being exclusively marine; this harbor is, nevertheless, the great centre of the viviparous fishes, and contains also a large variety of peculiarly shaped Sculpins. Farther north, between the Straits of Fuca and the island of Sitka, the shore resembles that of Maine, with its many islands, bays, and inlets; a succession of long, narrow islands forms a barrier along the coast, enclosing the shore waters, so as almost to make them into an inland sea. But little fresh water empties upon this part of the coast, and here, where the salt water is little modified by any deposit from the land, but where the violence of the ocean is broken by this barrier of islands, there is a full development of marine life. The shores of the Gulf of Georgia, and those of Vancouver's Island, seem to be especially the home of the Star-fishes. The fauna of this locality has been but little investigated, and yet the number of species of Star-fishes known from there is greater than from any other region; many of them are of colossal size, measuring some four feet in diameter. This coast seems also very favorable for the development of Hydroids, in consequence of which its waters swarm with a variety of Jelly-fishes. The Pennatula, that pretty compound Halcyonoid, with its feather-like sprays, is another characteristic type of this fauna. Beyond this, from Sitka to Behring's Straits, the same rocky coast prevails as in Labrador and Greenland. In Behring's Straits we return again to the forests of beautiful compound Mollusks, or rather to a variety of "representative species," resembling the Bryozoa and Ascidians so abundant in Baffin's Bay. The depth of the water, however, is much less here than on the corresponding Atlantic coast, where, south of Greenland, along the shore of Labrador, the water is very deep, while in Behring's Straits the depth is not greater than from one hundred to one hundred and twenty fathoms. The respective faunæ of these two shores are also affected by the difference of temperature, the cold current from Baffin's Bay sweeping down upon the coast of Labrador, while, through Behring's Straits, the warm current from the Pacific pours into the Arctic Ocean. Thus the whole coast of our continent is peopled more or less thickly with animals. But now arises a new set of inquiries; how far into the sea do these animals extend? how wide is their domain? Do they wander at will in the ocean, or are they bound by any law to keep within a certain distance of the shore? These questions would seem to be easily answered, for wherever we go on the surface of the sea, and as far as the eye can penetrate into its depths, we find it full of life; and yet a closer examination shows that all these beings have their appointed boundaries. Along the shores, animal and vegetable life seems to be distributed in certain definite combinations. Those who are familiar with rocky beaches readily recognize the different bands of color produced by the various kinds of sea-weed growing at given distances between high and low-water-mark. First comes the olive green rockweed (the Fucus), and with it are found barnacles and small Crustacea, myriads of which are to be seen hopping about in this rockweed when the tide is out. Below these are the brown crispy Rhodersperms and Melanosperms, and associated with them are Star-fishes, Crabs, and Cockles. Next in order is the Laminarian zone. Here we have the broad fronds of the Laminaria, the "devil's aprons," as the fishermen call them; in this zone is the home of the Sea-urchin, and here will be found also a few small fishes. Lastly we have the Coralline zone, so called on account of the lime deposit in the sea-weeds, giving them the rigidity of corals; among these the Lobsters make their appearance, and here are to be found also numerous clusters of Hydroids, the nurses of the Jelly-fishes. This distribution is not casual; these belts of animal and vegetable life are sharply defined and so constantly associated, that they must be controlled by the same physical laws. The first important investigations on this subject were made by Örsted, the distinguished Danish naturalist. He undertook a complete topographical survey of the coast near which he lived, carrying his soundings to a depth of some twelve fathoms, and found that both the fauna and flora of the shore were divided, according to the depth of the water, into bands of vegetable and animal life, corresponding very nearly with those given above. His observations were, however, limited, not extending beyond the neighborhood of his home. It is to Edward Forbes, the great English naturalist, whose short life was so rich in results for science, that we owe a more complete and extensive investigation of the whole subject. [Illustration: Diagram of a rocky beach.] Aided by a friend, Captain McAndrew, who placed his yacht at his disposal, he made a series of observations on the British, Scandinavian, and Danish coasts, and explored also with the same object the shores of the Mediterranean. Not content with sounding the present ocean, he sunk his daring plummet in the seas of past geological ages, and by comparing the nature and position of their fossil remains with those of living marine faunæ, he measured the depths of the water along their shores. He collected a vast amount of material, and the results of his labors have formed the basis of all subsequent generalizations upon this subject. Nevertheless he arrived at some erroneous conclusions, which, had he lived, he would no doubt have been the first to correct. Dredging from low-water-mark outward, he found that, from the Laminarian and Coralline zone, the animals began gradually to decrease in number, and that, at a depth of two or three hundred fathoms, the dredge always came up nearly empty. He inferred that at a certain depth the weight of water became too great to be endured by animals, and that the ocean beyond this line, like the land beyond the line of perpetual snow, was barren of life. This result seemed the more probable on account of the immense pressure to which animals are subjected, even at a comparatively moderate depth. A column of water thirty-two feet high is equal to one atmosphere in weight; this pressure being increased to the same amount for every thirty-two feet of depth, it follows that a fish one hundred and twenty-eight feet, or some twenty fathoms below the surface, is under the pressure of almost four atmospheres plus that of the air outside. Wherever tides run high, as in the Bay of Fundy, for instance, where an animal is under the pressure of one atmosphere at low tide, and of three atmospheres at high tide, we see that marine animals are uninjured by great changes of pressure. Yet it seems natural to suppose that there is a limit to this power of resistance; and that there must exist barren areas at the bottom of the ocean, as destitute of life as the regions on the earth which are above the line of perpetual snow. No doubt pressure does influence the distribution of life in the ocean; but it would seem, from subsequent observations, that the boundaries assigned by Forbes were far too narrow, and that the structure of many marine animals enables them to live under a weight, the one hundredth part of which would be fatal to any terrestrial animal. For some years Forbes's theory was very generally accepted, and the results of Darwin's and Dana's investigations, showing that corals could not live beyond a depth of fifteen fathoms, seemed to confirm it. But, quite recently, facts derived from new and unlooked-for sources of information have given a check to this theory. Commerce has come to the aid of science (rewarding her for the gift first received at her hands), and the telegraph cables, alive with the secrets of sea and land, have brought us tidings from the deep. Dr. Wallich, the naturalist who in 1860 accompanied the expedition to explore the bed of the Atlantic, previous to laying the telegraphic cable, first called attention again to this subject. He brought up various animals, highly organized, from a depth of about nineteen hundred fathoms. Yet, in spite of this positive evidence added to the former observations of Ehrenberg, and to those of Sir James Ross, who, in the Antarctic Sea, brought up an Euryale on a sounding-line from a depth of eight hundred to a thousand fathoms, naturalists were slow to believe that the distribution of animal life in the ocean was not limited to the shallow depths assigned by Edward Forbes. In the Mediterranean and in the Red Sea, from depths of eighteen hundred to two thousand fathoms, living animals have been brought up on the telegraph wires, not of doubtful infusorial character, hovering on the border-land between animal and vegetable life, but of considerable size, as, for instance, one or two kinds of Crustacea, Cockles, stocks of Bryozoa and tubes of Annelids. When the cable between France and Algiers was taken up from a depth of eighteen hundred fathoms, there came with it an Oyster, Cockle-shells, Annelid tubes, Bryozoa and Sea-fans. As these animals were growing upon it, there could be no doubt that they had their normal life and development at this depth, and since they are carnivorous, they tell also of the existence of other animals with them on which they feed. The dredge, which thus far has played an important part in zoölogical researches, is destined to revolutionize many of our accepted theories, if we can judge of its future by the brilliant results of the last few years. From 1861 to the present time the Swedish government has sent several expeditions to Spitzbergen and Greenland. They carried on dredging operations most successfully to a depth of twenty-six hundred fathoms. For some years past Lovén, Koren, and Danielssen, the elder and younger Sars, and other Scandinavian naturalists, have made systematic dredgings along the coast of Norway, which, though not extending below four hundred fathoms or thereabouts, have yet furnished most astounding results. The United States Coast Survey has, in connection with an exploration of the Gulf Stream, been the first to establish a systematic series of dredgings at great depths, continued during several years. The results have proved conclusively that there exists everywhere, in the deep sea, modified, of course, according to the nature of the bottom and the temperature, a most varied fauna, totally distinct from that characteristic of the shores and of shallower waters. Since 1867 Count Pourtales has had charge of these investigations, first established many years ago by Professor Bache and continued by his successor Professor Peirce. He has dredged across the Gulf Stream between Florida and Cuba to a depth of about seven hundred fathoms, collecting an immense number of marine animals entirely unknown before, and characteristic of the different belts of depth, having a most extraordinary geographical distribution, many of the species being found in Florida, the Azores, the Faroe Islands, and the west coast of Norway. The English Admiralty has for two summers detailed a vessel admirably fitted for such purposes, intrusting the scientific direction of the expedition to Dr. Carpenter, Professor Thomson, and Mr. Jeffreys. Their dredgings, carried on to the enormous depth of two thousand four hundred and thirty-five fathoms, have in every respect corroborated the conclusions drawn from the collections made by Count Pourtales and the Scandinavian naturalists, who, not content with so thoroughly exploring their own coast, have even sent a ship of war to dredge across the whole Atlantic. These discoveries only show how much yet remains to be done before we shall fully understand the laws of marine life. But we already have ample evidence that the same beneficent order controls the distribution of animals in the ocean as on land, appointing to all its inhabitants their fitting home in the dim waste of waters. * * * * * SYSTEMATIC TABLE OF THE ANIMALS DESCRIBED IN THIS VOLUME RADIATA CUV. CLASS I.--POLYPI LAM. ORDER I.--ACTINARIA EDW. _Metridium marginatum_ EDW. _Rhodactinia Davisii_ AG. _Bicidium parasiticum_ AG. _Arachnactis brachiolata_ A. AG. _Halcampa albida_ AG. ORDER II.--MADREPORIA AG. _Astrangia Danæ_ AG. ORDER III.--HALCYONARIA EDW. _Halcyonium carneum_ AG. CLASS II.--ACALEPHÆ CUV. ORDER I.--HYDROIDEA JOHNST. _Velella mutica_ BOSC. _Physalia Arethusa_ TIL. _Nanomia cara_ A. AG. _Millepora alcicornis_ LIN. _Hydractinia polyclina_ AG. _Tubularia Couthouyi_ AG. _Hybocodon prolifer_ AG. _Coryne mirabilis_ AG. _Turris vesicaria_ A. AG. _Bougainvillia superciliaris_ AG. _Dysmorphosa fulgurans_ A. AG. _Dynamena pumila_ LAMX. _Dyphasia rosacea_ AG. _Lafoea cornuta_ LAMX. _Melicertum campanula_ PÉR. et LES. _Ptychogena lactea_ A. AG. _Laomedea amphora_ AG. _Zygodactyla groenlandica_ AG. _Tima formosa_ AG. _Eucope diaphana_ AG. _Clytia bicophora_ AG. _Oceania languida_ A. AG. ORDER II.--DISCOPHORÆ ESCH. _Haliclystus auricula_ CLARK. _Trachynema digitale_ A. AG. _Campanella pachyderma_ A. AG. _Cyanea arctica_ PÉR. et LES. _Aurelia flavidula_ PÉR. et LES. ORDER III.--CTENOPHORÆ ESCH. _Idyia roseola_ AG. _Pleurobrachia rhododactyla_ AG. _Bolina alata_ AG. CLASS III.--ECHINODERMATA KLEIN. ORDER I.--CRINOIDEA MILL. _Pentacrinus,_ _Alecto Eschrichtii_ M. & T. _Alecto meridionalis_ AG. ORDER II.--OPHIURIDEA FORBES. _Amphiura squamata_ SARS. _Ophiopholis bellis_ LYM. _Astrophyton Agassizii_ STIMP. ORDER III.--ASTERIDEA FORBES. _Ctenodiscus crispatus_ D. & K. _Hippasteria phrygiana_ AG. _Cribrella oculata_ FORBES. _Solaster endeca_ FORBES. _Crossaster papposa_ M. & T. _Astracanthion pallidus_ AG. _Astracanthion berylinus_ AG. ORDER IV.--ECHINIDEA LAM. _Toxopneustes drobachiensis_ AG. _Echinarachnius parma_ GRAY. ORDER V.--HOLOTHURIDEA BRANDT. _Caudina arenata_ STIMP. _Synapta tenuis_ AYRES. _Cuvieria squamata_ D. & K. _Pentacta frondosa_ JÄG. * * * * * INDEX. PAGE Abbreviations of authors' names, xii Acalephs, 21 Actinia, 7 Actinoids, 7 Alecto Eschrichtii, 121 Alecto meridionalis, 121 Amphiura squamata, 115 Arachnactis brachiolata, 14 Astracanthion berylinus, 108 Astracanthion pallidus, 112 Astrangia Danæ, 16 Astrophyton Agassizii, 117 Aurelia flavidula, 42 Bicidium parasiticum, 15 Bolina alata, 31 Bougainvillia superciliaris, 69 Campanella pachyderma, 44 Campanularians, 49 Caudina arenata, 97 Circe, 45 Clytia bicophora, 56 Comatula, 121 Coryne mirabilis, 68 Cribrella oculata, 112 Crinoids, 120 Crossaster papposa, 114 Ctenodiscus crispatus, 113 Ctenophoræ, 26 Cuvieria squamata, 98 Cyanea aretica, 38 Development of Melicertum, 64 '' '' Tima, 64 Discophoræ, 37 Distribution of Life in the Ocean, 141 Dynamena pumila, 66 Dyphasia rosacea, 67 Dysmorphosa fulgurans, 75 Echinarachnius parma, 106 Echinoderms, 91 Echinoids, 101 Embryology of Astracanthion, 124 '' '' Ctenophoræ, 34 '' '' Echinoderms, 123 '' '' Ophiurans, 135 '' '' Sea-urchins, 130 '' '' Star-fishes, 124 Eucope diaphana, 50 Halcampa albida, 16 Halcyonium carneum, 19 Halcyonoids, 19 Haliclystus auricula, 46 Hippasteria phrygiana, 113 Holothurians, 95 Hybocodon prolifer, 74 Hydractinia polyclina, 73 Hydroids, 49 Idyia roseola, 32 Lafoea cornuta, 67 Laomedea amphora, 65 Lucernaria, 46 Madreporians, 16 Melicertum campanula, 63 Metridium marginatum, 7 Millepora alcicornis, 22 Mode of catching Jelly-fishes, 85 Nanomia cara, 76 Oceania languida, 53 Ophiurans, 115 Ophiopholis bellis, 115 Pentacrinus, 121 Pentacta frondosa, 99 Pleurobrachia rhododactyla, 27 Polyps, 5 Ptychogena lactea, 86 Physalia Arethusa, 83 Radiates, 1 Rhodactinia Davisii, 13 Sarsia, 68 Sea-urchin, 101 Sertularians, 66 Solaster endeca, 114 Star-fishes, 108 Synapta tenuis, 95 Systematic Table, 152 Tima formosa, 60 Toxopneustes drobachiensis, 101 Trachynema digitale, 45 Tubularia Couthouyi, 72 Tubularians, 67 Turris vesicaria, 69 Velella mutica, 84 Zygodactyla groenlandica, 57 THE END. ___________________________________________________________ Cambridge: Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes With the exception of the corrections detailed below and some minor corrections (missing periods, commas, etc.) which were made but are not listed, the text presented is that in the original printed version. The illustration labels were originally presented at the bottom of the containing page; but have been moved beneath the illustrations. Typographical Corrections Page xi: Ophiopolis => Ophiopholis Page 4: diferent => different Page 21, 101, 127, 131, 148: so called => so-called * * * * * 
36677	----	[Illustration: THE SEA SERPENT, AS FIRST SEEN FROM H.M.S. 'DÆDALUS.' _Frontispiece._] (_International Fisheries Exhibition_ LONDON, 1883) SEA MONSTERS UNMASKED BY HENRY LEE, F.L.S., F.G.S., F.Z.S. SOMETIME NATURALIST OF THE BRIGHTON AQUARIUM AND AUTHOR OF 'THE OCTOPUS, OR THE DEVIL-FISH OF FICTION AND FACT' ILLUSTRATED LONDON WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED INTERNATIONAL FISHERIES EXHIBITION AND 13 CHARING CROSS, S.W. 1883 PREFACE. As I commence this little history of two sea monsters there comes to my mind a remark made to me by my friend, Mr. Samuel L. Clemens--"Mark Twain"--which illustrates a feeling that many a writer must have experienced when dealing with a subject that has been previously well handled. Expressing to me one day the gratification he felt in having made many pleasant acquaintances in England, he added, with dry humour, and a grave countenance, "Yes! I owe your countrymen no grudge or ill-will. I freely forgive them, though one of them did me a grievous wrong, an irreparable injury! It was Shakspeare: if he had not written those plays of his, I should have done so! They contain _my_ thoughts, _my_ sentiments! He forestalled me!" In treating of the so-called "sea-serpent," I have been anticipated by many able writers. Mr. Gosse, in his delightful book, 'The Romance of Natural History,' published in 1862, devoted a chapter to it; and numerous articles concerning it have appeared in various papers and periodicals. But, for the information from which those authors have drawn their inferences, and on which they have founded their opinions, they have been greatly indebted, as must be all who have seriously to consider this subject, to the late experienced editor of the _Zoologist_, Mr. Edward Newman, a man of wonderful power of mind, of great judgment, a profound thinker, and an able writer. At a time when, as he said, "the shafts of ridicule were launched against believers and unbelievers in the sea-serpent in a very pleasing and impartial manner," he, in the true spirit of philosophical inquiry, in 1847, opened the columns of his magazine to correspondence on this topic, and all the more recent reports of marine monsters having been seen are therein recorded. To him, therefore, the fullest acknowledgments are due. The great cuttles, also, have been the subject of articles in various magazines, notably one by Mr. W. Saville Kent, F.L.S., in the 'Popular Science Review' of April, 1874, and a chapter in my little book on the Octopus, published in 1873, is also devoted to them. In writing of them as the living representatives of the kraken, and as having been frequently mistaken for the "sea-serpent," my deductions have been drawn from personal knowledge, and an intimate acquaintance with the habits, form, and structure of the animals described. It was only by watching the movements of specimens of the "common squid" (_Loligo vulgaris_), and the "little squid" (_L. media_), which lived in the tanks of the Brighton Aquarium, that I recognised in their peculiar habit of occasionally swimming half-submerged, with uplifted caudal extremity, and trailing arms, the fact that I had before me the "sea-serpent" of many a well-authenticated anecdote. A mere knowledge of their form and anatomy after death had never suggested to me that which became at once apparent when I saw them in life. It is a pleasure to me to acknowledge gratefully the kindness I have met with in connection with the illustrations of this book. The proprietors of the _Illustrated London News_ not only gave me permission to copy, in reduced size, their two pictures of the _Dædalus_ incident, but presented to me electrotype copies of all others small enough for these pages--namely, "Jonah and the Monster," Egede's "Sea-Serpent," and the Whale as seen from the _Pauline_. Equally kind have been the proprietors of the _Field_. To them I am greatly indebted for their permission to copy the beautiful woodcuts of the "Octopus at Rest," "The Sepia seizing its Prey," and the arms of the Newfoundland squids, and also for "electros" of the two curious Japanese engravings, all of which originally appeared in their paper. From the _Graphic_ I have had similar permission to copy any cuts that might be thought suitable, and the illustrations of the sea-serpent, as seen from Her Majesty's yacht _Osborne_ and the _City of Baltimore_, are from that journal. Messrs. Nisbet most courteously allowed me to have a copy of the block of the _Enaliosaurus_ swimming, which was one of the numerous pictures in Mr. Gosse's book, published by them, already referred to. And last, not least, I have to thank Miss Ellen Woodward, daughter of my friend, Dr. Henry Woodward, F.R.S., for enabling me to better explain the movements and appearances of the squids when swimming, and when raising their bodies out of water in an erect position, by carefully drawing them from my rough sketches. HENRY LEE. SAVAGE CLUB; _July 21st, 1883_. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. _Frontispiece._--The Sea Serpent as first seen from H.M.S. _Dædalus_. FIG. PAGE 1. Beak and Arms of a Decapod Cuttle 16 2. The Octopus (_Octopus vulgaris_) 18 3. The Cuttle (_Sepia officinalis_) 21 4. Hooked Tentacles of _Onychoteuthis_ 23 5. Japanese fisherman attacked by a Cuttle 29 6. Arms of a great Cuttle exhibited in a Japanese fish-shop 29 7. Facsimile of De Montfort's "_Poulpe colossal_" 32 8. Gigantic Calamary caught by the French despatch vessel _Alecton_, near Teneriffe 39 9. Tentacle of a great Calamary (_Architeuthis princeps_) taken in Conception Bay, Newfoundland 43 10. Head and Tentacles of a great Calamary (_Architeuthis princeps_) taken in Logie Bay, Newfoundland 44 11. Jonah and the Sea Monster 55 12. Sea Serpent seizing a man on board ship 58 13. Gigantic Lobster dragging a man from a ship 58 14. Pontoppidan's "Sea Serpent" 63 15. The Animal drawn by Mr. Bing as having been seen by Egede 66 16. The Animal which Egede probably saw 67 17. The Sea Serpent of the Wernerian Society (_facsimile_) 69 18. A Calamary swimming at the surface of the sea 77 19. The Sea Serpent passing under the quarter of H.M.S. _Dædalus_ 81 20. The Sea Serpent and Sperm Whale as seen from the _Pauline_ 91 21. The Sea Serpent as seen from the _City of Baltimore_ 93 22. The Sea Serpent as seen from H.M. yacht _Osborne_. Phase 1 94 23. The Sea Serpent as seen from H.M. yacht _Osborne_. Phase 2 94 24. Skeleton of the _Plesiosaurus_, restored by Mr. Conybeare 98 25. The Sea Serpent on the Enaliosaurian hypothesis 100 SEA MONSTERS UNMASKED. THE KRAKEN. In the legends and traditions of northern nations, stories of the existence of a marine animal of such enormous size that it more resembled an island than an organised being frequently found a place. It is thus described in an ancient manuscript (about A.D. 1180), attributed to the Norwegian King Sverre; and the belief in it has been alluded to by other Scandinavian writers from an early period to the present day. It was an obscure and mysterious sea-monster, known as the Kraken, whose form and nature were imperfectly understood, and it was peculiarly the object of popular wonder and superstitious dread. Eric Pontoppidan, the younger, Bishop of Bergen, and member of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Copenhagen, is generally, but unjustly, regarded as the inventor of the semi-fabulous Kraken, and is constantly misquoted by authors who have never read his work,[1] and who, one after another, have copied from their predecessors erroneous statements concerning him. More than half a century before him, Christian Francis Paullinus,[2] a physician and naturalist of Eisenach, who evinced in his writings an admiration of the marvellous rather than of the useful, had described as resembling Gesner's 'Heracleoticon,' a monstrous animal which occasionally rose from the sea on the coasts of Lapland and Finmark, and which was of such enormous dimensions, that a regiment of soldiers could conveniently manoeuvre on its back. About the same date, but a little earlier, Bartholinus, a learned Dane, told how, on a certain occasion, the Bishop of Midaros found the Kraken quietly reposing on the shore, and mistaking the enormous creature for a huge rock, erected an altar upon it and performed mass. The Kraken respectfully waited till the ceremony was concluded, and the reverend prelate safe on shore, and then sank beneath the waves. [1] 'Natural History of Norway.' A.D. 1751. [2] Born 1643; died 1712. And a hundred and fifty years before Bartholinus and Paullinus wrote, Olaus Magnus,[3] Archbishop of Upsala, in Sweden, had related many wondrous narratives of sea-monsters,--tales which had gathered and accumulated marvels as they had been passed on from generation to generation in oral history, and which he took care to bequeath to his successors undeprived of any of their fascination. According to him, the Kraken was not so polite to the laity as to the Bishop, for when some fishermen lighted a fire on its back, it sank beneath their feet, and overwhelmed them in the waters. [3] Olaus Magnus has sometimes been mistaken for his brother and predecessor in the archiepiscopal see, Johan Magnus, author of a book entitled 'Gothorum, Suevorumque Historia.' Olaus was the last Roman Catholic archbishop of the Swedish church, and when the Reformation, supported by Gustavus Vasa, gained the ascendancy in Sweden, he remained true to his faith, and retired to Rome, where he wrote his work, 'Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus,' Romæ, 1555. An English translation of this book was published by J. Streater, in 1658. It does not contain the illustrations. Pontoppidan was not a fabricator of falsehoods; but, in collecting evidence relating to the "great beasts" living in "the great and wide sea," was influenced, as he tells us, by "a desire to extend the popular knowledge of the glorious works of a beneficent Creator." He gave too much credence to contemporary narratives and old traditions of floating islands and sea monsters, and to the superstitious beliefs and exaggerated statements of ignorant fishermen: but if those who ridicule him had lived in his day and amongst his people, they would probably have done the same; for even Linnæus was led to believe in the Kraken, and catalogued it in the first edition of his 'Systema Naturæ,' as '_Sepia Microcosmos_.' He seems to have afterwards had cause to discredit his information respecting it, for he omitted it in the next edition. The Norwegian bishop was a conscientious and painstaking investigator, and the tone of his writings is neither that of an intentional deceiver nor of an incautious dupe. He diligently endeavoured to separate the truth from the cloud of error and fiction by which it was obscured; and in this he was to a great extent successful, for he correctly identifies, from the vague and perplexing descriptions submitted to him, the animal whose habits and structure had given rise to so many terror-laden narratives and extravagant traditions. The following are some of his remarks on the subject of this gigantic and ill-defined animal. Although I have greatly abbreviated them, I have thought it right to quote them at considerable length, that the modest and candid spirit in which they were written may be understood:[4] "Amongst the many things," he says, "which are in the ocean, and concealed from our eyes, or only presented to our view for a few minutes, is the Kraken. This creature is the largest and most surprising of all the animal creation, and consequently well deserves such an account as the nature of the thing, according to the Creator's wise ordinances, will admit of. Such I shall give at present, and perhaps much greater light on this subject may be reserved for posterity. "Our fishermen unanimously affirm, and without the least variation in their accounts, that when they row out several miles to sea, particularly in the hot summer days, and by their situation (which they know by taking a view of different points of land) expect to find eighty or a hundred fathoms of water, it often happens that they do not find above twenty or thirty, and sometimes less. At these places they generally find the greatest plenty of fish, especially cod and ling. Their lines, they say, are no sooner out than they may draw them up with the hooks all full of fish. By this they know that the Kraken is at the bottom. They say this creature causes those unnatural shallows mentioned above, and prevents their sounding. These the fishermen are always glad to find, looking upon them as a means of their taking abundance of fish. There are sometimes twenty boats or more got together and throwing out their lines at a moderate distance from each other; and the only thing they then have to observe is whether the depth continues the same, which they know by their lines, or whether it grows shallower, by their seeming to have less water. If this last be the case they know that the Kraken is raising himself nearer the surface, and then it is not time for them to stay any longer; they immediately leave off fishing, take to their oars, and get away as fast as they can. When they have reached the usual depth of the place, and find themselves out of danger, they lie upon their oars, and in a few minutes after they see this enormous monster come up to the surface of the water; he there shows himself sufficiently, though his whole body does not appear, which, in all likelihood, no human eye ever beheld. Its back or upper part, which seems to be in appearance about an English mile and a half in circumference (some say more, but I chuse the least for greater certainty), looks at first like a number of small islands surrounded with something that floats and fluctuates like sea-weeds. Here and there a larger rising is observed like sand-banks, on which various kinds of small fishes are seen continually leaping about till they roll off into the water from the sides of it; at last several bright points or horns appear, which grow thicker and thicker the higher they rise above the surface of the water, and sometimes they stand up as high and as large as the masts of middle-sized vessels. It seems these are the creature's arms, and it is said if they were to lay hold of the largest man of war they would pull it down to the bottom. After this monster has been on the surface of the water a short time it begins slowly to sink again, and then the danger is as great as before; because the motion of his sinking causes such a swell in the sea, and such an eddy or whirlpool, that it draws everything down with it, like the current of the river Male. "As this enormous sea-animal in all probability may be reckoned of the Polype, or of the Starfish kind, as shall hereafter be more fully proved, it seems that the parts which are seen rising at its pleasure, and are called arms, are properly the tentacula, or feeling instruments, called horns, as well as arms. With these they move themselves, and likewise gather in their food. "Besides these, for this last purpose the great Creator has also given this creature a strong and peculiar scent, which it can emit at certain times, and by means of which it beguiles and draws other fish to come in heaps about it. This animal has another strange property, known by the experience of many old fishermen. They observe that for some months the Kraken or Krabben is continually eating, and in other months he always voids his excrements. During this evacuation the surface of the water is coloured with the excrement, and appears quite thick and turbid. This muddiness is said to be so very agreeable to the smell or taste of other fishes, or to both, that they gather together from all parts to it, and keep for that purpose directly over the Kraken; he then opens his arms or horns, seizes and swallows his welcome guests, and converts them after due time, by digestion, into a bait for other fish of the same kind. I relate what is affirmed by many; but I cannot give so certain assurances of this particular, as I can of the existence of this surprising creature; though I do not find anything in it absolutely contrary to Nature. As we can hardly expect to examine this enormous sea-animal alive, I am the more concerned that nobody embraced that opportunity which, according to the following account once did, and perhaps never more may offer, of seeing it entire when dead." [4] 'Natural History of Norway,' vol. ii., p. 210. The lost opportunity which the worthy prelate thus lamented, with the true feeling of a naturalist, was made known to him by the Rev. Mr. Friis, Consistorial Assessor, Minister of Bodoen in Nordland, and Vicar of the college for promoting Christian knowledge, and was to the following effect: "In the year 1680, a Krake (perhaps a young and foolish one) came into the water that runs between the rocks and cliffs in the parish of Alstaboug, though the general custom of that creature is to keep always several leagues from land, and therefore of course they must die there. It happened that its extended long arms or antennæ, which this creature seems to use like the snail in turning about, caught hold of some trees standing near the water, which might easily have been torn up by the roots; but beside this, as it was found afterwards, he entangled himself in some openings or clefts in the rock, and therein stuck so fast, and hung so unfortunately, that he could not work himself out, but perished and putrefied on the spot. The carcass, which was a long while decaying, and filled great part of that narrow channel, made it almost impassable by its intolerable stench. "The Kraken has never been known to do any great harm, except," the Author quaintly says, "they have taken away the lives of those who consequently could not bring the tidings. I have heard but one instance mentioned, which happened a few years ago, near Fridrichstad, in the diocess of Aggerhuus. They say that two fishermen accidentally, and to their great surprise, fell into such a spot on the water as has been before described, full of a thick slime almost like a morass. They immediately strove to get out of this place, but they had not time to turn quick enough to save themselves from one of the Kraken's horns, which crushed the head of the boat, so that it was with great difficulty they saved their lives on the wreck, though the weather was as calm as possible; for these monsters, like the sea-snake, never appear at other times." Pontoppidan then reviews the stories of floating islands which suddenly appear, and as suddenly vanish, commonly credited, and especially mentioned by Luke Debes in his 'Description of Faroe.' "These islands in the boisterous ocean could not be imagined," he says, "to be of the nature of real floating islands, because they could not possibly stand against the violence of the waves in the ocean, which break the largest vessels, and therefore our sailors have concluded this delusion could come from no other than the great deceiver, the devil." This accusation, the good bishop, in his desire to be strictly impartial, will not admit on such hear-say evidence, but is determined to, literally, "give the devil his due;" for he warns his readers that "we ought not to charge that apostate spirit without a cause; for," he adds, "I rather think that this devil who so suddenly makes and unmakes these floating islands, is nothing else but the Kraken." Referring to a monster described by Pliny, he repeats his belief that "This sea-animal belongs to the Polype, or Star-fish species;" but he becomes very much "mixed" between the _Cephalopoda_ and the _Asteridæ_, between the pedal segments, or arms, of the cuttle radiating from its head, and the rays of a Star-fish radiating from a central portion of the body. He evidently inclines strongly towards a particular Star-fish, the rays of which continually divide and subdivide themselves, or, as he describes it, "which shoots its rays into branches like those of trees," and to which he gave the name of "Medusa's Head," a title by which, in its Greek form, _Gorgonocephalus_, it is still known to zoologists. "These Medusa's Heads," he says, "are supposed by some seafaring people here, to be the young of the Sea-Krake; perhaps they are its smallest ovula." After considering other reports concerning the Kraken, he arrives at the following definite opinion: "We learn from all this that the Polype or Starfish have amongst their various species some that are much larger than others; and, according to all appearance, amongst the very largest inhabitants of the ocean. If the axiom be true that greatness or littleness makes no change in the species, then this Krake must be of the Polypus kind, notwithstanding its enormous size." His diagnosis is correct; but it is stated with a modesty which his detractors would do well to imitate; and his concluding words on this subject place him in a light very different from that in which he is popularly regarded: "I do not in the least insist on this conjecture being true," he writes, "but willingly submit my suppositions in this and every other dubious matter to the judgment of those who are better experienced. If I was an admirer of uncertain reports and fabulous stories, I might here add much more concerning this and other Norwegian sea-monsters, whose existence I will not take upon me to deny, but do not chuse, by a mixture of uncertain relations to make such account appear doubtful as I myself believe to be true and well attested. I shall therefore quit the subject here, and leave it to future writers on this plan to complete what I have imperfectly sketched out, by further experience, which is always the best instructor." It is easy to recognise in Pontoppidan's description of the Kraken, the form and habits of one of the "Cuttle-fishes," so-called. The appearance of its numerous arms, with which it gathers in its food, and which grow thicker and thicker as they rise above the surface, is just what would take place in the case of one of the pelagic species of these mollusks raising its head out of the sea. The rendering of the water turbid and thick by the emission of a substance which the narrator supposed to be fæcal matter, is exactly that which occurs when a cuttle discharges the contents of the remarkable organ known as its ink-bag; and the strong and peculiar scent mentioned as appertaining to it, is actually characteristic of its inky secretion. The musky odour referred to, is more perceptible in some species than in others. In one of the Octopods (_Eledone moschatus_), it is so strong, that the specific name of the animal is derived from it. The ancient Greeks and Romans, who were well acquainted with the various kinds of cuttles and regarded them all as excellent food, and even as delicacies of the table, applied the word "polypus" especially to the octopus. But Pontoppidan evidently uses it as descriptive of all the cephalopods. It must not be forgotten, however, that when he wrote, science was only slowly recovering from neglect of many centuries' duration. In the enlightened times of Greece and Rome, natural history flourished, and as in our day, attracted and occupied the attention of the man of science, and afforded recreation to the man of business and the politician. Aristotle wrote 322 years before the birth of Christ, and his works are monuments of practical wisdom. When we consider the period during which he lived, and the isolated nature of his labours, and compare them with the information which he possessed, we are astonished at his sagacity and the great scope and general accuracy of his knowledge. Pliny, 240 years later, lived in times more favourable for the cultivation of science; but with all his advantages made little improvement on the work of the great master. And then, later still, the sun of learning set; and there came over Europe the long night of the dark ages which succeeded Roman greatness, during which science was degraded and ignorance prevailed; and it is not till the middle of the sixteenth century, that the zoologist finds much to interest and instruct him. When we further reflect, that until within the past five and twenty years--till our large aquaria were constructed--Aristotle's knowledge of the habits and life-history of marine animals, and amongst them the cephalopods, was incomparably greater and more perfect than that possessed by any man who had lived since he recorded his observations, we cannot help feeling that in some departments of knowledge there is still lost ground to be recovered. In the old days of the Cæsars, a Greek or Roman house-wife who was accustomed to see the cuttle, the squid, and the octopus daily exposed for sale in the markets, would of course have laughed at the idea of mistaking the one for the other; but there are comparatively few persons in our own country, at the present day, except those who have made marine zoology their study, whose ideas on the subject are not exceedingly hazy. This want of technical knowledge is not confined to the masses; but is common, if not general, amongst those who have been well educated, and is frequently apparent even in leaders in the daily papers--the productions, for the most part, of men of receptive minds, trained discrimination, and great general knowledge. As the subject is one in which I have long felt especial interest, I venture to hope that I may succeed in making clear the difference between the eight-footed octopus and its ten-footed relatives, and thus enable the reader to identify the member of the family from which we are to strip the dress and "make up" in which it masqueraded as the Kraken, and cause it to appear in its true and natural form. One of the great primary groups or divisions of the animal kingdom is that of the soft-bodied mollusca; which includes the cuttle, the oyster, the snail, &c. It has been separated into five "classes," of which the one we have especially to notice is the _Cephalopoda_,[5] or "head-footed,"--the animals belonging to it having their feet, or the organs which correspond with the foot of other molluscs, so attached to the head as to form a circle or coronet round the mouth. Some of these have the foot divided into eight segments, and are therefore called the _Octopoda_:[6] others have, in addition to the eight feet, lobes, or arms, two longer tentacular appendages, making ten in all, and are consequently called the _Decapoda_. [5] From the Greek words _cephale_, the head; and _poda_, feet. [6] From _octo_, eight; and _pous_ (_poda_), feet. Of the ten-footed section of the cephalopods, there are four "families;" two only of which exist in Britain--the _Teuthidæ_, and the _Sepiidæ_. The _Teuthidæ_ are the Calamaries, popularly known as "Squids," and are represented by the long-bodied _Loligo vulgaris_, that has internally along its back a gristly, translucent stiffener, shaped like a quill-pen; from which and its ink it derives its names of "calamary" (from "_calamus_," a "pen"), "pen-and-ink fish," and "sea-clerk." The _Sepiidæ_ are generally known as the Cuttles proper. As a type of them we may take the common "cuttle-fish," _Sepia officinalis_, the owner of the hard, calcareous shell often thrown up on the shore, and known as "cuttle-bone," or "sea-biscuit." It must here be remarked, that as these head-footed mollusks are not "fish," any more than lobsters, crabs, oysters, mussels, &c., which fishmongers call "shell-fish," are "fish," the word "fish" is misleading, and should be abandoned; and secondly, that the names "cuttle" and "squid," as distinctive appellations, are unsatisfactory. The word "cuttle" is derived from "cuddle," to hug, or embrace--in allusion to the manner in which the animal seizes its prey, and enfolds it in its arms; and "squid" is derived from "squirt," in reference to its habit of squirting water or ink. But as all the known members of the class, except the pearly nautilus, _Nautilus pompilius_, have these habits in common, the distinguishing terms are hardly apposite. As, however, they are conventionally accepted and understood, I prefer to use them. As with other mollusks, so with the cephalopods, some have shells, and some are naked or have only rudimentary shells. The Argonaut, or paper nautilus, has been regarded as the analogue of the snail, which, like it, secretes an _external_ shell for the protection of its soft body; and the octopus as that of the garden slug, which, having organs like those of the snail, as the octopus has organs like those of the shell-bearing argonaut, has no shell. The cuttles and squids may be compared to some of the sea-slugs, as _Aplysia_ and _Bullæa_, and to some land-slugs, as _Parmacella_ and _Limax_, which have an _internal_ shell. The argonaut and the other families of the cephalopods do not come within the scope of this treatise; we will therefore confine our attention to the three above mentioned. Of the anatomy and homology of the _Octopus_, _Sepia_, and _Calamary_ we need say no more than will suffice to show in what manner they resemble each other, and wherein they differ, in order that we may the more clearly perceive to which of them the story of the Kraken probably owes its origin. The octopus, the sepia, and the calamary are all constructed on one fundamental plan. A bag of fleshy muscular skin, called the mantle-sac, contains the organs of the body, heart, stomach, liver, intestines, a pair of gills by which oxygen is absorbed from the water for the purification of the blood, and an excurrent tube by which the water thus deprived of its life-sustaining gas is expelled. The outrush of water with more or less force, from this "syphon-tube," is also the principal source of locomotion when the animal is swimming, as it propels it backward--not by the striking of the expelled fluid against the surrounding water, as is generally supposed; but by the unbalanced pressure of the fluid acting inside the body in the direction in which the creature goes. Into this syphon-tube, or funnel, opens, by a special duct, the ink-bag; and from it is squirted at will the intensely black fluid therein secreted. I doubt very much the correctness of the statement mentioned by Pontoppidan and others, that the cuttle ejects its ink with a desire to lie hidden and in ambush for its intended prey, or with the intention to attract fish within its reach by their partiality for the musky odour of this secretion. It may be so, but during the long period that I had these animals under close observation at the Brighton Aquarium, I never witnessed such an incident. I believe that the emission of the ink is a symptom of fear, and is only employed as a means of concealment from a suspected enemy. I have found, that when first taken, the _Sepia_, of all its kind, is the most sensitively timid. Its keen, unwinking eye watches for and perceives the slightest movement of its captor; and if even most cautiously looked at from above, its ink is belched forth in eddying volumes, rolling over and over like the smoke which follows the discharge of a great gun from a ship's port, and mixes with marvellous rapidity with the surrounding water. But, like all of its class, the _Sepia_ is very intelligent. It soon learns to discriminate between friend and foe, and ultimately becomes very tame, and ceases to shoot its ink, unless it be teased and excited. By means of the communication between the ink-bag and the locomotor tube, it happens that when the ink is ejected, a stream of water is forcibly emitted with it, and thus the very effort for escape serves the double purpose of propelling the creature away from danger, and discolouring the water in which it moves. Oppian has well described this-- "The endangered cuttle thus evades his fears, And native hoards of fluids safely wears. A pitchy ink peculiar glands supply Whose shades the sharpest beam of light defy. Pursued, he bids the sable fountains flow, And, wrapt in clouds, eludes the impending foe. The fish retreats unseen, while self-born night With pious shade befriends her parent's flight." Professor Owen has remarked that the ejection of the ink of the cephalopods serves by its colour as a means of defence, as corresponding secretions in some of the mammalia by their odour. It is worthy of notice that the pearly nautilus and the allied fossil forms are without this means of concealment, which their strong external shells render unnecessary for their protection. From the sac-like body containing the various organs, protrudes a head, globose in shape, and containing a brain, and furnished with a pair of strong, horny mandibles, which bite vertically, like the beak of a parrot. By these the flesh of prey is torn and partly masticated, and within them lies the tongue, covered with recurved and retractile teeth, like that of its distant relatives, the whelk, limpet, &c., by which the food is conducted to the gullet. Around this head is, as I have said, the organ which is equivalent to the foot in other molluscs--that by which the slug and the snail crawl--only that the head is placed in the centre, instead of in the front of it, and it is divided into segments, which radiate from this central head. These segments are very flexible, and capable of movement in every direction, and are thus developed into arms, prehensile limbs, by which their owner can seize and hold its living prey. That this may be more perfectly accomplished, these arms are studded along their inner surface with rows of sucking discs, in each of which, by means of a retractile piston, a vacuum can be produced. The consequent pressure of the outer atmosphere or water, causes them to adhere firmly to any substance to which they are applied, whether stone, fish, crustacean, or flesh of man. But, although in all these highly-organised head-footed mollusks the same general build prevails, it is admirably modified in each of them to suit certain habits and necessities. Thus the octopus, being a shore dweller, its soft and pliant, but very tough body, having merely a very small and rudimentary indication of an internal shell (just a little "style") is exactly adapted for wedging itself amongst crevices of rocks. A large, rigid, cellular float, or "sepiostaire," such as _Sepia_ possesses, or a long, horny pen such as _Loligo_ has, would be in the way, and worse than useless in such places as the octopus inhabits. Its eight long powerful arms or feet are precisely fitted for clambering over rocks and stones, and as its food of course consists principally of the living things most abundant in such localities, namely, the shore-crabs, its great flexible suckers, devoid of hooks or horny armature, are exactly adapted to firm and air-tight attachment to the smooth shells of the crustacea. [Illustration: FIG. 1.--BEAK AND ARMS OF A DECAPOD CUTTLE. _a_, the eight shorter arms; _t_, the tentacles; _f_, the funnel, or locomotor tube.] Unlike the octopus, which is capable only of short flights through the water, the "cuttles" and "squids," such as _Sepia_ and _Loligo_, are all free swimmers. For them it is necessary for accuracy of natation that their soft, and in the squids long bodies, should be supported by such a framework as they possess. In _Sepia_, the mantle-sac is flattened horizontally all along its lateral edges so as to form a pair of fins, which nearly surround the trunk. These fins could never be used, as they are, to enable the animal to poise itself delicately in the water by means of their beautiful undulations, which I have often watched with delight, if their attached edges were not kept in a straight line on either side. Then, these ten-footed or ten-armed genera have not, because they need them not, eight long, strong and highly mobile arms like those of the octopus, nor have they large suckers upon them. Whereas a great length of reach is an advantage to the octopus, animals which are purely swimmers, and which hunt and overtake their prey by speed, would be impeded by having to drag after them a bundle of stout, lengthy appendages trailing heavily astern. Their eight pedal arms are short and comparatively weak, though strong enough, in individuals such as are regarded on our own coasts as fullgrown, to seize and hold a fish or crustacean as strong as a good sized shore-crab. But, as compensation for the shortness of the eight arms, they are provided with two others more than three times the length of the short ones. These are so slender that they generally lie coiled up in a spiral cone in two pockets, one on each side, just below the eye, when the animal is quiescent, and are only seen when it takes its food. These long, slender tentacular arms are expanded at their extremity, and the inner surface of their enlarged part is studded with suckers--some of them larger in size than those on the eight shorter arms. As the food of these swimmers consists, of course, chiefly of fish, their sucking disks are curiously modified for the better retention of a slippery captive. A horny ring with a sharply serrated edge is imbedded in the outer circumference of each of them, and when a vacuum is formed, the keen, saw-like teeth are pressed into the skin or scales of the unfortunate prisoner, and deprive it of the slightest chance of escape. The manner in which the eight-armed and ten-armed cephalopods capture their prey is similar in principle and plan, but differs in action in accordance with their mode of life. The ordinary habit of the octopus is either to rest suspended to the side of a rock to which it clings with the suckers of several of its arms, or to remain lurking in some favourite cranny; its body thrust for protection and concealment well back in the interior of the recess; its bright eyes keenly on the watch; three or four of its limbs firmly attached to the walls of its hiding place--the others gently waving, gliding, and feeling about in the water, as if to maintain its vigilance, and keep itself always on the alert, and in readiness to pounce on any unfortunate wayfarer that may pass near its den. To a shore-crab that comes within its reach the slightest contact with one of those lithe arms is fatal. Instantaneously as pull of trigger brings down a bird, or touch of electric wire explodes a torpedo or a mining fuse, the pistons of the series of suckers are simultaneously drawn inward, the air is removed from the pneumatic holders, and a vacuum created in each: the crab tries to escape, but in a second is completely pinioned: not a movement, not a struggle is possible; each leg, each claw is grasped all over by suckers, enfolded in them, stretched out to its fullest extent by them; the back of the carapace is completely covered by the tenacious disks, brought together by the adaptable contractions of the limb, and ranged in close order, shoulder to shoulder, touching each other; and the pressure of the air is so great that nothing can effect the relaxation of their retentive power but the destruction of the air-pump that works them, or the closing of the throttle-valve by which they are connected with it. Meanwhile the abdominal plates of the captive crab are dragged towards the mouth; the black tip of the hard horny beak is seen for a single instant protruding from the circular orifice in the centre of the radiation of the arms; and, the next, has crushed through the shell, and is buried deep in the flesh of the victim. [Illustration: FIG. 2.--THE OCTOPUS (_Octopus vulgaris_).] Unlike the skulking, hiding octopus, its ten-armed relative, the _Sepia_ loves the daylight and the freedom of the upper water. Its predatory acts are not those of a concealed and ambushed brigand lying in wait behind a rock, or peeping furtively from within the gloomy shadow of a cave; but it may better be compared to the war-like Comanche vidette seated gracefully on his horse, and scanning from some elevated knoll a wide expanse of prairie, in readiness to swoop upon a weak or unarmed foe. Poised near the surface of the water, like a hawk in the air, the _Sepia_ moves gently to and fro by graceful undulations of its lateral fins,--an exquisite play of colour occasionally taking place over its beautifully barred and mottled back. When thus tranquil, its eight pedal arms are usually brought close together, and droop in front of its head, like the trunk of an elephant, shortened; its two longer tentacular arms being coiled up within their pouches and unseen. Only when some small fish approaches it does it arouse itself. Then, its eyes dilate, and its colours become more bright and vivid. It carefully takes aim, advancing or retreating to such a distance as will just allow the two hidden tentacles to reach the quarry when they shall be shot out. Next, the two highest or central feet are lifted up, and the three others on each side are spread aside, so that they may be all out of the way of the two concealed tentacles, presently to be launched forth; and then, in a moment--so instantaneously that the eye of an observer, be he ever so watchful, can hardly see the act--this pair of tentacles, side by side, are projected and withdrawn, as if in a flash. The fish or shrimp has vanished, the suckers of the dilated ends of the tentacles having adhered to it, and left it, as they re-entered their pouches, within the fatal "cuddle," or embrace, where it is torn to pieces by the devouring beak.[7] This action of the tentacles of the decapods is the most rapid motion that I know of in the whole animal kingdom--not excepting even that of the tongue of the toad and the lizard. These long tentacles are not used when the food is within reach of the shorter arms. [7] See an excellent article in the _Field_, Sept. 2, 1876, on the 'Ten Footed Cuttle' (_Sepia officinalis_), by the late Mr. W. A. Lloyd, an earnest and accomplished aquatic zoologist; eccentric, but in all that relates to the construction and management of an aquarium a master of his craft. It was his wish that in any future edition of my little book on the Octopus, or other writings on the cephalopods, I should use the woodcuts which illustrated his articles on Sepia and Octopus. By the kind permission of the proprietors of the _Field_, I reproduce them in suitable size for these pages. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--THE CUTTLE (_Sepia officinalis_).] The calamaries or squids of our British Seas seize their prey in the same manner as _Sepia_, and the description of one will suffice for both. But there exist two groups of them, which are armed with curved and sharp-pointed hooks or claws, either in addition to, or instead of suckers. In the one group (_Onychoteuthis_), the hooks are restricted to the extremities of the pair of tentacles, in the other (_Enoploteuthis_), both the tentacles and the shorter arms have hooks. Professor Owen, in his description of these hook-armed calamaries in the _Cyclopædia of Anatomy_, notices also another structure which adds greatly to their prehensile power (Fig. 4.). "At the extremity of the long tentacles a cluster of small, simple, unarmed suckers may be observed at the base of the expanded part. When these latter suckers are applied to one another the tentacles are securely locked together at that part, and the united strength of both the elongated peduncles can be applied to drag towards the mouth any resisting object which has been grappled by the terminal hooks. There is no mechanical contrivance which surpasses this structure; art has remotely imitated it in the fabrication of the obstetrical forceps, in which either blade can be used separately, or, by the inter-locking of a temporary blade, be made to act in combination." The cephalopods obtain and eat their food very much like the rapacious birds. They are the falcons of the sea. Some of them, like _Onychoteuthis_, strike their prey with talons and suckers also, others lay hold of it with suckers alone; but they all tear the flesh with their beaks, and swallow and digest their food in the same manner as the hawk or vulture. [Illustration: FIG. 4.--HOOKED TENTACLES OF _Onychoteuthis_.] The _Sepia_, the owner of the broad, flattened bone, has a decided predilection for the vicinity of the shore, and for comparatively shallow water. It there attaches its grape-like eggs to some convenient stone or growing alga, and delights occasionally to sink to the bottom, and there to rest half covered by the sand, a habit for which the form of its body is well adapted. But the calamaries--they of the horny pen--prefer the wide waters of the open ocean; and although they, too, especially the smaller species, are common upon the coasts, they are frequently met with far out at sea, and away from any land. The elongated and almost arrow-like shape of their bodies enables them to glide through the water with great rapidity, and the momentum exerted by a vigorous out-rush from their syphon-tube is sometimes so great that when the opposite pressure thus produced is so exerted as to cause them to take an upward direction they leap out of the water to so great a height as to fall on the decks of ships; and are, therefore, called by sailors, "flying squids." Their spawn is very different from that of either octopus, or sepia. It consists of dozens of semi-transparent, gelatinous, slender, cylindrical sheaths, about four or five inches long, each containing many ova imbedded in it (making a total number of about 40,000 embryos), all springing from a common centre and resembling a mop without a handle. I have never seen any of these "sea-mops" attached to anything, and the pelagic habits of the calamaries render it probable that they are left floating on the surface of the sea. Having made ourselves acquainted with the structure and habits of these three divisions of the eight-footed and ten-footed mollusks, let us take evidence as to the size to which they are respectively known to attain, and the degree in which they may be regarded as dangerous to man. An octopus from our own coasts having arms two feet in length may be considered a rather large specimen; and Dr. J. E. Gray, who was always most kindly ready to place at the disposal of any sincere inquirer the vast store of knowledge laid up in his wonderful memory, told me that "there is not one in the British Museum which exceeds this size, or which would not go into a quart pot--body, arms and all." The largest British specimen I have hitherto seen had arms 2 ft. 6 in. long. We have sufficient evidence, however, that it exceeds this in the South of France, and along the Spanish and Italian coasts of the Mediterranean; and my deceased friend John Keast Lord tells us in his book, 'The Naturalist in British Columbia,' that he saw and measured, in Vancouver's Island, an octopus which had arms five feet long. I have often been asked whether an octopus of the ordinary size can really be dangerous to bathers. Decidedly, "Yes," in certain situations. The holding power of its numerous suckers is enormous. It is almost impossible forcibly to detach it from its adhesion to a rock or the flat bottom of a tank; and if a large one happened to fix one or more of its strong, tough arms on the leg of a swimmer whilst the others held firmly to a rock, I doubt if the man could disengage himself under water by mere strength, before being exhausted. Fortunately the octopus can be made to relax its hold by grasping it tightly round the "throat" (if I may so call it), and it may be well that this should be known. That men are occasionally drowned by these creatures is, unhappily, a fact too well attested. I have elsewhere[8] related several instances of this having occurred. Omitting those, I will give two or three others which have since come under my notice. Sir Grenville Temple, in his 'Excursions in the Mediterranean Sea,' tells how a Sardinian captain, whilst bathing at Jerbeh, was seized and drowned by an octopus. When his body was found, his limbs were bound together by the arms of the animal; and this took place in water only four feet deep. [8] See 'The Octopus; or, the Devil-fish of Fiction and of Fact.' 1873. Chapman and Hall. Mr. J. K. Lord's account of the formidable strength of these creatures in Oregon is confirmed by an incident recorded in the _Weekly Oregonian_ (the principal paper of Oregon) of October 6th, 1877. A few days before that date an Indian woman, whilst bathing, was held beneath the surface by an octopus, and drowned. The body was discovered on the following day in the horrid embrace of the creature. Indians dived down and with their knives severed the arms of the octopus and recovered the corpse. Mr. Clemens Laming, in his book, 'The French in Algiers,' writes:--"The soldiers were in the habit of bathing in the sea every evening, and from time to time several of them disappeared--no one knew how. Bathing was, in consequence, strictly forbidden; in spite of which several men went into the water one evening. Suddenly one of them screamed for help, and when several others rushed to his assistance they found that an octopus had seized him by the leg by four of its arms whilst it clung to the rock with the rest. The soldiers brought the 'monster' home with them, and out of revenge they boiled it alive and ate it. This adventure accounted for the disappearance of the other soldiers." The Rev. W. Wyatt Gill, who for more than a quarter of a century has resided as a missionary amongst the inhabitants of the Hervey Islands, and with whom I had the pleasure of conversing on this subject when he was in England in 1875, described in the _Leisure Hour_ of April 20th, 1872, another mode of attack by which an octopus might deprive a man of life. A servant of his went diving for "poulpes" (octopods), leaving his son in charge of the canoe. After a short time he rose to the surface, his arms free, but his nostrils and mouth completely covered by a large octopus. If his son had not promptly torn the living plaister from off his face he must have been suffocated--a fate which actually befell some years previously a man who foolishly went diving alone. In _Appleton's American Journal of Science and Art_, January 31st, 1874, a correspondent describes an attack by an octopus on a diver who was at work on the wreck of a sunken steamer off the coast of Florida. The man, a powerful Irishman, was helpless in its grasp, and would have been drowned if he had not been quickly brought to the surface; for when dragged on to the raft from which he had descended, he fainted, and his companions were unable to pull the creature from its hold upon him until they had dealt it a sharp blow across its baggy body. A similar incident occurred to the government diver of the colony of Victoria, Australia. Whilst pursuing his avocation in the estuary of the river Moyne he was seized by an octopus. He killed it by striking it with an iron bar, and brought to shore with him a portion of it with the arms more than three feet long. Mr. Laurence Oliphant, in his 'China and Japan,' describes a Japanese show, which consisted of "a series of groups of figures carved in wood, the size of life, and as cleverly coloured as Madame Tussaud's wax-works. One of these was a group of women bathing in the sea. One of them had been caught in the folds of a cuttle-fish; the others, in alarm, were escaping, leaving their companion to her fate. The cuttle-fish was represented on a huge scale, its eyes, eyelids, and mouth being made to move simultaneously by a man inside the head." An attack of this kind is most artistically represented in a small Japanese ivory-carving in the possession of Mr. Bartlett, of the Zoological Gardens.[9] [9] This carving was figured in illustration of an interesting paper by Professor Owen, C.B., F.R.S., &c., "On some new and rare Cephalopoda," in the Transactions of the Zoological Society, April 20, 1880. The Japanese are well acquainted with the octopus; for it is commonly depicted on their ornaments, and forms no unimportant item in their fisheries. I have recently had an opportunity of inspecting a most curious Japanese book, in the possession of my friend Mr. W. B. Tegetmeier, which is chiefly devoted to the representations of the fisheries and fish-curing processes of the country. It is in three volumes, and is entitled, 'Land and Sea Products,' by Ki Kone. It is evidently ancient, for it is slightly worm-eaten, but the plates, each 12 inches by 8 inches, are full of vigour. Two of these illustrate in a very interesting manner the subject before us, and by the kindness of Mr. Tegetmeier I am able to give facsimiles of them, which appeared with an article by him on this book, in the _Field_ of March 14th, 1874. Fig. 5 represents a fisherman in a boat out at sea: a gigantic octopus has thrown one of its arms over the side of the boat; the man, who is alone, has started forward from the stern of the boat, and has succeeded, by means of a large knife attached to a long handle, in lopping off the dangerous limb of his enemy. As Mr. Tegetmeier says, "From the extreme matter of fact manner in which all these engravings are made, and the total absence of exaggeration in any other representation, I cannot but regard the relative sizes of the man, the boat, and the octopus, as correctly given, in which case we have evidence of the existence of gigantic cephalopods in Japanese waters." The only doubt I have is whether the fisherman correctly described his assailant as an octopus, and whether it was not a calamary. Fig. 6 is a vivid picture of a fishmonger's shop in a market, under the awning of which may be seen two arms of a gigantic cuttle hung up for sale as food. These are evidently of most unusual size, judging from the action of the lookers on; the one to the left, with a tall stand or case on his back, like a Parisian cocoa-vendor, is holding out his hand in mute astonishment; whilst the attention of the smaller personage in the right-hand corner is directed to the suspended arms of the cuttle by the man nearest to him, who is pointing to them with upraised hand. In another plate in this most interesting work a Japanese mode of fishing for cuttles is delineated. A man in a boat is tossing crabs, one at a time, into the sea, and when a cuttle rises at the bait he spears it with a trident and tosses it into the boat. [Illustration: FIG. 5.--JAPANESE FISHERMAN ATTACKED BY A CUTTLE.] [Illustration: FIG. 6.--ARMS OF A GREAT CUTTLE EXHIBITED IN A JAPANESE FISHMONGER'S SHOP.] The octopus, therefore, though not abundant on our own coasts, is found in every sea in the temperate zone; and in so far as that it secretes an ink with which it can render the water turbid, and has many radiating arms with which it can seize and drown a man, it possesses certain attributes of the Kraken; but we have no authentic knowledge of its ever attaining to greater dimensions than I have stated, nor does it bask on the surface of the sea. It is not amongst the _Octopidæ_ therefore that we must look for a solution of the mystery. The basking condition is fulfilled by the _Sepia_; and its flattened back, supported and rendered hard and firm to the touch by the calcareous _sepiostaire_ beneath the skin, is broader in proportion than that of the octopus or the squid. Thus _Sepia_ might pass as a microscopic miniature of the great Scandinavian monster. But it lacks the character of size. We have no reason to believe that any true _Sepia_ exists, as the family is now understood, that has a body more than eighteen inches long. If it were otherwise it would be more likely to be known of this family than of its relatives, for its lightly constructed and well known "cuttle-bone" would float on the surface for many weeks after the death of its owner, and large specimens of it would be seen and recognised from passing ships. As we can find no species of the _Octopidæ_ or _Sepiidæ_ which can furnish a pretext for the stories told of the Kraken, we must try to ascertain how far a similitude to it may be traced in the third family we have discussed, the _Teuthidæ_. The belief in the existence of gigantic cuttles is an ancient one. Aristotle mentions it, and Pliny tells of an enormous polypus which at Carteia, in Grenada--an old and important Roman colony near Gibraltar--used to come out of the sea at night, and carry off and devour salted tunnies from the curing depots on the shore; and adds that when it was at last killed, the head of it (they used to call the body the head, because in swimming it goes in advance) was found to weigh 700 lbs. Ælian records a similar incident, and describes his monster as crushing in its arms the barrels of salt fish to get at the contents. These two must have been octopods if they were anything; the word "polypus" thus especially designates it, and moreover, the free-swimming cuttles and squids would be helpless if stranded on the shore. Some of the old writers seem to have aimed rather at making their histories sensational than at carefully investigating the credibility or the contrary of the highly coloured reports brought to them. These were, of course, gross exaggerations, but there was generally a substratum of truth in them. They were based on the rare occurrence of specimens, smaller certainly, but still enormous, of some known species, and in most cases the worst that can be said of their authors is that they were culpably careless and foolishly credulous. Unhappily so lenient a judgment cannot be passed on some comparatively recent writers. Denys de Montfort, half a century later than Pontoppidan, not only professed to believe in the Kraken, but also in the existence of another gigantic animal distinct from it; a colossal _poulpe_, or octopus, compared with which Pliny's was a mere pigmy. In a drawing fitter to decorate the outside of a showman's caravan at a fair than seriously to illustrate a work on natural history,[10] he depicted this tremendous cuttle as throwing its arms over a three masted vessel, snapping off its masts, tearing down the yards, and on the point of dragging it to the bottom, if the crew had not succeeded in cutting off its immense limbs with cutlasses and hatchets. De Montfort had good opportunities of obtaining information, for he was at one time an assistant in the geological department of the Museum of Natural History, in Paris; and wrote a work on conchology,[11] besides that already referred to. But it appears to have been his deliberate purpose to cajole the public; for it is reported that he exclaimed to M. Defrance: "If my entangled ship is accepted, I will make my 'colossal poulpe' overthrow a whole fleet." Accordingly we find him gravely declaring[12] that one of the great victories of the British navy was converted into a disaster by the monsters which are the subject of his history. He boldly asserted that the six men-of-war captured from the French by Admiral Rodney in the West Indies on the 12th of April, 1782, together with four British ships detached from his fleet to convoy the prizes, were all suddenly engulphed in the waves on the night of the battle under such circumstances as showed that the catastrophe was caused by colossal cuttles, and not by a gale or any ordinary casualty. [10] 'Histoire Naturelle générale et particulière des Mollusques,' vol. ii., p. 256. [11] 'Conchyliologie Systématique.' [12] 'Hist. Nat. des Moll.,' vol. ii., pp. 358 to 368. [Illustration: FIG. 7.--FACSIMILE OF DE MONTFORT'S "_Poulpe colossal_."] Unfortunately for De Montfort, the inexorable logic of facts not only annihilates his startling theory, but demonstrates the reckless falsity of his plausible statements. The captured vessels did not sink on the night of the action, but were all sent to Jamaica to refit, and arrived there safely. Five months afterwards, however, a convoy of nine line-of-battle ships (amongst which were Rodney's prizes), one frigate, and about a hundred merchantmen, were dispersed, whilst on their voyage to England, by a violent storm, during which some of them unfortunately foundered. The various accidents which preceded the loss of these vessels was related in evidence to the Admiralty by the survivors, and official documents prove that De Montfort's fleet-destroying _poulpe_ was an invention of his own, and had no part whatever in the disaster that he attributed to it. I have been told, but cannot vouch for the truth of the report, that De Montfort's propensity to write that which was not true culminated in his committing forgery, and that he died in the galleys. But he records a statement of Captain Jean Magnus Dens, said to have been a respectable and veracious man, who, after having made several voyages to China as a master trader, retired from a seafaring life and lived at Dunkirk. He told De Montfort that in one of his voyages, whilst crossing from St. Helena to Cape Negro, he was becalmed, and took advantage of the enforced idleness of the crew to have the vessel scraped and painted. Whilst three of his men were standing on planks slung over the side, an enormous cuttle rose from the water, and threw one of its arms around two of the sailors, whom it tore away, with the scaffolding on which they stood. With another arm it seized the third man, who held on tightly to the rigging, and shouted for help. His shipmates ran to his assistance, and succeeded in rescuing him by cutting away the creature's arm with axes and knives, but he died delirious on the following night. The captain tried to save the other two sailors by killing the animal, and drove several harpoons into it; but they broke away, and the men were carried down by the monster. The arm cut off was said to have been twenty-five feet long, and as thick as the mizen-yard, and to have had on it suckers as big as saucepan-lids. I believe the old sea-captain's narrative of the incident to be true; the dimensions given by De Montfort are wilfully and deliberately false. The belief in the power of the cuttle to sink a ship and devour her crew is as widely spread over the surface of the globe, as it is ancient in point of time. I have been told by a friend that he saw in a shop in China a picture of a cuttle embracing a junk, apparently of about 300 tons burthen, and helping itself to the sailors, as one picks gooseberries off a bush. Traditions of a monstrous cuttle attacking and destroying ships are current also at the present day in the Polynesian Islands. Mr. Gill, the missionary previously quoted, tells us[13] that the natives of Aitutaki, in the Hervey group, have a legend of a famous explorer, named Rata, who built a double canoe, decked and rigged it, and then started off in quest of adventures. At the prow was stationed the dauntless Nganaoa, armed with a long spear and ready to slay all monsters. One day when speeding pleasantly over the ocean, the voice of the ever vigilant Nganaoa was heard: "O Rata! yonder is a terrible enemy starting up from ocean depths." It proved to be an octopus (query, squid?) of extraordinary dimensions. Its huge tentacles encircled the vessel in their embrace, threatening its instant destruction. At this critical moment Nganaoa seized his spear, and fearlessly drove it through the head of the creature. The tentacles slowly relaxed, and the dead monster floated off on the surface of the ocean. [13] _Leisure Hour_, October, 1875, p. 636. Passing from the early records of the appearance of cuttles of unusual size, and the current as well as the traditional belief in their existence by the inhabitants of many countries, let us take the testimony of travellers and naturalists who have a right to be regarded as competent observers. In so doing we must bear in mind that until Professor Owen propounded the very clear and convenient classification now universally adopted, the squids, as well as the eight-footed _Octopidæ_, were all grouped under the title of _Sepia_. Pernetty, describing a voyage made by him in the years 1763-4,[14] mentions gigantic cuttles met with in the Southern Seas. [14] 'Voyage aux Iles Malouines.' Shortly afterwards, during the first week in March 1769, Banks and Solander, the scientific fellow-voyagers with Lieutenant Cook (afterwards the celebrated Captain Cook), in H.M.S. _Endeavour_, found in the North Pacific, in latitude 38° 44´ S. and longitude 110° 33´ W., a large calamary which had just been killed by the birds, and was floating in a mangled condition on the water. Its arms were furnished, instead of suckers, with a double row of very sharp talons, which resembled those of a cat, and, like them, were retractable into a sheath of skin from which they might be thrust at pleasure. Of this cuttle they say, with evident pleasurable remembrance of a savoury meal, they made one of the best soups they ever tasted. Professor Owen tells us, in the paper already referred to, that when he was curator of the Hunterian Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, and preparing, in 1829, his first catalogue thereof, he was struck with the number of oceanic invertebrates which Hunter had obtained. He learned from Mr. Clift that Hunter had supplied Mr. (afterwards Sir Joseph) Banks with stoppered bottles containing alcohol, in which to preserve the new marine animals that he might meet with during the circumnavigatory voyage about to be undertaken by Cook. Thinking it probable that Banks might have stowed some parts of this great hook-armed squid in one of these bottles for his anatomical friend, he searched for, and found in a bottle marked "J. B.," portions of its arms, the beak with tongue, a heart ventricle, &c., and, amongst the dry preparations, the terminal part of the body, with an attached pair of rhomboidal fins. The remainder had furnished Cook and his companions Banks and Solander with a welcome change of diet in the commander's cabin of the _Endeavour_. As the inner surface of the arms of the squid, as well as the terminals of its tentacles, were studded with hooks, Professor Owen named it _Enoploteuthis Cookii_. He estimates the diameter of the tail fin at 15 inches, the length of its body 3 feet, of its head 10 inches, of the shorter arms 16 inches, and of the longer tentacles about the same as its body--thus giving a total length of about 6 ft. 9 in. Although individuals of other species, of larger dimensions, are known to have existed, this is the largest specimen of the hook-armed calamaries that has been scientifically examined. It would have been a formidable antagonist to a man under circumstances favourable to the exertion of its strength, and the use of its prehensile and lacerating talons. Peron,[15] the well-known French zoologist, mentions having seen at sea, in 1801, not far from Van Diemen's Land, at a very little distance from his ship, _Le Géographe_, a "Sepia," of the size of a barrel, rolling with noise on the waves; its arms, between 6 and 7 feet long, and 6 or 7 inches in diameter at the base, extended on the surface, and writhing about like great snakes. He recognised in this, and no doubt correctly, one of the calamaries. The arms that he saw were evidently the animal's shorter ones, as under such circumstances, with neither enemy to combat nor prey to seize at the moment, the longer tentacles would remain concealed. [15] 'Voyage de Découvertes aux Terres Australes.' Quoy and Gaimard[16] report that in the Atlantic Ocean, near the Equator, they found the remains of an enormous calamary, half eaten by the sharks and birds, which could not have weighed less, when entire, than 200 lbs. A portion of this was secured, and is preserved in the Museum of Natural History, Paris. [16] 'Voyage de l'Uranie: Zoologie,' vol. i., part 2, p. 411. 1824. Captain Sander Rang[17] records having fallen in with, in mid-ocean, a species distinct from the others, of a dark red colour, having short arms, and a body the size of a hogshead. [17] 'Manuel des Mollusques,' p. 86. In a manuscript by Paulsen (referred to by Professor Steenstrup, at a meeting of Scandinavian naturalists at Copenhagen in 1847) is a description of a large calamary, cast ashore on the coast of Zeeland, which the latter named _Architeuthis monachus_. Its body measured 21 feet, and its tentacles 18 feet, making a total of 39 feet. In 1854 another was stranded at the Skag in Jutland, which Professor Steenstrup believed to belong to the same genus as the preceding, but to be of a different species, and called it _Architeuthis dux_. The body was cut in pieces by the fishermen for bait, and furnished many wheelbarrow loads. Mr. Gwyn Jeffreys[18] says Dr. Mörch informed him that the beak of this animal was nine inches long. He adds that another huge cephalopod was stranded in 1860 or 1861, between Hillswick and Scalloway, on the west of Shetland. From a communication received by Professor Allman, it appears that its tentacles were 16 feet long, the pedal arms about half that length, and the mantle sac 7 feet. The largest suckers examined by Professor Allman were three-quarters of an inch in diameter. [18] 'British Conchology,' vol. v., p. 124. [Illustration: FIG. 8.--GIGANTIC CALAMARY CAUGHT BY THE FRENCH DESPATCH VESSEL 'ALECTON,' NEAR TENERIFFE.] We have also the statement of the officers and crew of the French despatch steamer, _Alecton_, commanded by Lieutenant Bouyer, describing their having met with a great calamary on the 30th of November, 1861, between Madeira and Teneriffe. It was seen about noon on that day floating on the surface of the water, and the vessel was stopped with a view to its capture. Many bullets were aimed at it, but they passed through its soft flesh without doing it much injury, until at length "the waves were observed to be covered with foam and blood." It had probably discharged the contents of its ink-bag; for a strong odour of musk immediately became perceptible--a perfume which I have already mentioned as appertaining to the ink of many of the cephalopoda, and also as being one of the reputed attributes of the Kraken. Harpoons were thrust into it, but would not hold in the yielding flesh; and the animal broke adrift from them, and, diving beneath the vessel, came up on the other side. The crew wished to launch a boat that they might attack it at closer quarters, but the commander forbade this, not feeling justified in risking the lives of his men. A rope with a running knot was, however, slipped over it, and held fast at the junction of the broad caudal fin; but when an attempt was made to hoist it on deck the enormous weight caused the rope to cut through the flesh, and all but the hinder part of the body fell back into the sea and disappeared. M. Berthelot, the French consul at Teneriffe, saw the fin and posterior portion of the animal on board the _Alecton_ ten days afterwards, and sent a report of the occurrence to the Paris Academy of Sciences. The body of this great squid, which, like Rang's specimen, was of a deep-red colour, was estimated to have been from 16 feet to 18 feet long, without reckoning the length of its formidable arms.[19] [19] In the accompanying illustration, the size of the squid is exaggerated, but not so much as has been supposed. These are statements made by men who, by their intelligence, character, and position, are entitled to respect and credence; and whose evidence would be accepted without question or hesitation in any court of law. There is, moreover, a remarkable coincidence of particulars in their several accounts, which gives great importance to their combined testimony. But, fortunately, we are not left dependent on documentary evidence alone, nor with the option of accepting or rejecting, as caprice or prejudice may prompt us, the narratives of those who have told us they have seen what we have not. Portions of cuttles of extraordinary size are preserved in several European museums. In the collection of the Faculty of Sciences at Montpellier is one six feet long, taken by fishermen at Cette, which Professor Steenstrup has identified as _Ommastrephes pteropus_. One of the same species, which was formerly in the possession of M. Eschricht, who received it from Marseilles, may be seen in the museum at Copenhagen. The body of another, analogous to these, is exhibited in the Museum of Trieste: it was taken on the coast of Dalmatia. At the meeting of the British Association at Plymouth in 1841, Colonel Smith exhibited drawings of the beak and other parts of a very large calamary preserved at Haarlem; and M. P. Harting, in 1860, described in the Memoirs of the Royal Scientific Academy of Amsterdam portions of two extant in other collections in Holland, one of which he believes to be Steenstrup's _Architeuthis dux_, a species which he regards as identical with _Ommastrephes todarus_ of D'Orbigny. Still there remained a residuum of doubt in the minds of naturalists and the public concerning the existence of gigantic cuttles until, towards the close of the year 1873, two specimens were encountered on the coast of Newfoundland, and a portion of one and the whole of the other, were brought ashore, and preserved for examination by competent zoologists. The circumstances under which the first was seen, as sensationally described by the Rev. M. Harvey, Presbyterian minister of St. John's, Newfoundland, in a letter to Principal Dawson, of McGill College, were, briefly and soberly, as follows:--Two fishermen were out in a small punt on the 26th of October, 1873, near the eastern end of Belle Isle, Conception Bay, about nine miles from St. John's. Observing some object floating on the water at a short distance, they rowed towards it, supposing it to be the _débris_ of a wreck. On reaching it one of them struck it with his "gaff," when immediately it showed signs of life, and shot out its two tentacular arms, as if to seize its antagonists. The other man, named Theophilus Picot, though naturally alarmed, severed both arms with an axe as they lay on the gunwale of the boat, whereupon the animal moved off, and ejected a quantity of inky fluid which darkened the surrounding water for a considerable distance. The men went home, and, as fishermen will, magnified their lost "fish." They "estimated" the body to have been 60 feet in length, and 10 feet across the tail fin; and declared that when the "fish" attacked them "it reared a parrot-like beak which was as big as a six-gallon keg." All this, in the excitement of the moment, Mr. Harvey appears to have been willing to believe, and related without the expression of a doubt. Fortunately, he was able to obtain from the fishermen a portion of one of the tentacular arms which they had chopped off with the axe, and by so doing rendered good service to science. This fragment (Fig. 9), as measured by Mr. Alexander Murray, provincial geologist of Newfoundland, and Professor Verrill, of Yale College, Connecticut, is 17 feet long and 3½ feet in circumference. It is now in St. John's Museum. By careful calculation of its girth, the breadth and circumference of the expanded sucker-bearing portion at its extremity, and the diameter of the suckers, Professor Verrill has computed its dimensions to have been as follows:--Length of body 10 feet; diameter of body 2 feet 5 inches. Long tentacular arms 32 feet; head 2 feet; total length about 44 feet. The upper mandible of the beak, instead of being "as large as a six-gallon keg" would be about 3 inches long, and the lower mandible 1½ inch long. From the size of the large suckers relatively to those of another specimen to be presently described, he regards it as probable that this individual was a female. [Illustration: FIG. 9.--TENTACLE OF A GREAT CALAMARY (_Architeuthis princeps_) TAKEN IN CONCEPTION BAY, NEWFOUNDLAND, OCT. 26, 1873.] In November, 1873--about three weeks after the occurrence in Conception Bay--another calamary somewhat smaller than the preceding, but of the same species, also came into Mr. Harvey's possession. Three fishermen, when hauling their herring-net in Logie Bay, about three miles from St. John's, found the huge animal entangled in its folds. With great difficulty they succeeded in despatching it and bringing it ashore, having been compelled to cut off its head before they could get it into their boat. [Illustration: FIG. 10.--HEAD AND TENTACLES OF A GREAT CALAMARY (_Architeuthis princeps_) TAKEN IN LOGIE BAY, NEWFOUNDLAND, NOV. 1873.] The body of this specimen was over 7 feet long; the caudal fin 22 inches broad; the two long tentacular arms 24 feet in length; the eight shorter arms each 6 feet long, the largest of the latter being 10 inches in circumference at the base; total length of this calamary 32 feet. Professor Verrill considers that this and the Conception Bay squid are both referable to one species--Steenstrup's _Architeuthis dux_. Excellent woodcuts from photographs of these two specimens were given in the _Field_ of December 13th, 1873, and January 31st, 1874, respectively, and I am indebted to the proprietors of that journal for their kind and courteous permission to copy them in reduced size for the illustration of this little work. For the preservation of both of the above described specimens we have to thank Mr. Harvey, and he produces additional evidence of other gigantic cuttles having been previously seen on the coast of Newfoundland. He mentions two especially, which, as stated by the Rev. Mr. Gabriel, were cast ashore in the winter of 1870-71, near Lamaline on the south coast of the island, which measured respectively 40 feet and 47 feet in length; and he also tells of another stranded two years later, the total length of which was 80 feet. In the _American Journal of Science and Arts_, of March 1875, Professor Verrill gives particulars and authenticated testimony of several other examples of great calamaries, varying in total length from 30 feet to 52 feet, which have been taken in the neighbourhood of Newfoundland since the year 1870. One of these was found floating, apparently dead, near the Grand Banks in October 1871, by Captain Campbell, of the schooner _B. D. Hoskins_, of Gloucester, Mass. It was taken on board, and part of it used for bait. The body is stated to have been 15 feet long, and the pedal or shorter arms between 9 feet and 10 feet. The beak was forwarded to the Smithsonian Institution. Another instance given by Professor Verrill is of a great squid found alive in shallow water in Coomb's Cove, Fortune Bay, in the year 1872. Its measurements, taken by the Hon. T. R. Bennett, of English Harbour, Newfoundland, were, length of body 10 feet; length of tentacle 42 feet; length of one of the ordinary arms 6 feet: the cups on the tentacles were serrated. Professor Verrill also mentions a pair of jaws and two suckers in the Smithsonian Institution, as having been received from the Rev. A. Munn, with a statement that they were taken from a calamary which went ashore in Bonavista Bay, and which measured 32 feet in total length. On the 22nd of September, 1877, another gigantic squid was stranded at Catalina, on the north shore of Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, during a heavy equinoctial gale. It was alive when first seen, but died soon after the ebbing of the tide, and was left high and dry upon the beach. Two fishermen took possession of it, and the whole settlement gathered to gaze in astonishment at the monster. Formerly it would have been converted into manure, or cut up as food for dogs, but, thanks to the diffusion of intelligence, there were some persons in Catalina who knew the importance of preserving such a rarity, and who advised the fishermen to take it to St. John's. After being exhibited there for two days, it was packed in half-a-ton of ice in readiness for transmission to Professor Verrill, in the hope that it would be placed in the Peabody or Smithsonian Museum; but at the last moment its owners violated their agreement, and sold it to a higher bidder. The final purchase was made for the New York Aquarium, where it arrived on the 7th of October, immersed in methylated spirit in a large glass tank. Its measurements were as follows:--length of body 10 feet; length of tentacles 30 feet; length of shorter arm 11 feet; circumference of body 7 feet; breadth of caudal fin 2 feet 9 inches; diameter of largest tentacular sucker 1 inch; number of suckers on each of the shorter arms 250. The appearance of so many of these great squids on the shores of Newfoundland during the term of seven years, and after so long a period of popular uncertainty as to their very existence had previously elapsed, might lead one to suppose that the waters of the North Atlantic Ocean which wash the north-eastern coasts of the American Continent were, at any rate, temporarily, their principal habitat, especially as a smaller member of their family, _Ommastrephes sagittatus_, is there found in such extraordinary numbers that it furnishes the greater part of the bait used in the Newfoundland cod fisheries. But that they are by no means confined to this locality is proved by recent instances, as well as by those already cited. Dr. F. Hilgendorf records[20] observations of a huge squid exhibited for money at Yedo, Japan, in 1873, and of another of similar size, which he saw exposed for sale in the Yedo fish market. [20] 'Sitzungsberichte der Gesellschaft naturforschender Freunde zu Berlin,' pp. 65-67, quoted by Professor Owen, _op. cit._ When the French expedition was sent to the Island of St. Paul, in 1874, for the purpose of observing the transit of Venus, which occurred on the 9th of December in that year, it was fortunately accompanied by an able zoologist, M. Ch. Velain. He reports[21] that on the 2nd of November a tidal wave cast upon the north shore of the island a great calamary which measured in total length nearly 23 feet, namely: length of body 7 feet; length of tentacles 16 feet. There are several points of interest connected with its generic characters, and M. Velain's grounds for regarding it as being of a previously unknown species, but they are too technical for discussion here. This specimen was photographed as it lay upon the beach by M. Cazin, the photographer to the expedition. [21] 'Comptes Rendus,' t. 80, 1875, p. 998. The following account of the still more recent capture of a large squid off the west coast of Ireland was given in the _Zoologist_ of June 1875, by Sergeant Thomas O'Connor, of the Royal Irish Constabulary:-- "On the 26th of April, 1875, a very large calamary was met with on the north-west of Boffin Island, Connemara. The crew of a 'curragh' (a boat made like the 'coracle,' with wooden ribs covered with tarred canvas) observed to seaward a large floating mass, surrounded by gulls. They pulled out to it, believing it to be wreck, but to their astonishment found it was an enormous cuttle-fish, lying perfectly still, as if basking on the surface of the water. Paddling up with caution, they lopped off one of its arms. The animal immediately set out to sea, rushing through the water at a tremendous pace. The men gave chase, and, after a hard pull in their frail canvas craft, came up with it, five miles out in the open Atlantic, and severed another of its arms and the head. These portions are now in the Dublin Museum. The shorter arms measure, each, eight feet in length, and fifteen inches round the base: the tentacular arms are said to have been thirty feet long. The body sank." Finally, there is in our own national collection, preserved in spirit in a tall glass jar, a single arm of a huge cephalopod, which, by the kindness and courtesy of the officers of the department, I was permitted to examine and measure when I first described it, in May, 1873. It is 9 feet long, and 12 inches in circumference at the base, tapering gradually to a fine point. It has about 300 suckers, pedunculated, or set on tubular footstalks, placed alternately in two rows, and having serrated, horny rings, but no hooks; the diameter of the largest of these rings is half an inch; the smallest is not larger than a pin's head. This is one of the eight shorter, or pedal, and not one of the long, or tentacular, arms of the calamary to which it belonged. The relative length of the arms to that of the body and tentacles varies in different genera of the _Teuthidæ_, and it is not impossible that this may be the case even in individuals of the same species. But, judging from the proportions of known examples, I estimate the length of the tentacles at 36 feet, and that of the body at from 10 to 11 feet: total length 47 feet. The beak would probably have been about 5 inches long from hinge socket to point, and the diameter of the largest suckers of the tentacles about 1 inch. So much for De Montfort's "suckers as big as saucepan-lids." From a well defined fold of skin which spreads out from each margin of that surface of the arm over which the suckers are situated, Professor Owen has given to this calamary the generic name of _Plectoteuthis_, with the specific title of _grandis_ to indicate its enormous size. No history relating to this interesting specimen has been preserved. No one knows its origin, nor when it was received, but Dr. Gray told me that he believed it came from the east coast of South America. It has, however, long formed part of the stores of the British Museum, and, although previously open to public view, was more recently for many years kept in the basement chambers of the old building in Bloomsbury, which were irreverently called by the initiated "the spirit vaults and bottle department," because fishes, mollusca, &c., preserved in spirits were there deposited. I hope the public will have greater facility of access to it in the new Museum. Here, then, in our midst, and to be seen by all who ask permission to inspect it, is, and has long been, a limb of a great cephalopod capable of upsetting a boat, or of hauling a man out of her, or of clutching one engaged in scraping a ship's side, and dragging him under water, as described by the old master-mariner Magnus Dens. The tough, supple tentacles, shot forth with lightning rapidity, would be long enough to reach him at a distance of a dozen yards, and strong enough to drag him within the grasp of the eight shorter arms, a helpless victim to the mandibles of a beak sufficiently powerful to tear him in pieces and crush some of his smaller bones. For, once within that dreadful embrace, his escape, unaided, would be impossible. The clinging power of this _Plectoteuthis_ is so enormously augmented by the additional surface given by the expanded folds to the under side of the arms, that I doubt if even one of the smaller whales, such as the "White Whale," or the "Pilot Whale," could extricate itself from their combined hold, if those eight supple, clammy, adhesive arms, each 9 feet long, and 5 inches in diameter at the base on the flat under surface, and armed with a battery of 2400 suckers, were once fairly lapped around it. Ought it to surprise us, then, that an uneducated seafaring population, such as the fishermen of Fridrichstad, mentioned by Pontoppidan, absolutely ignorant of the habits and affinities, and even unacquainted with the real external form of such a creature, should exaggerate its dimensions and invest it with mystery? All that they knew of it was that whilst their friends and neighbours, whom we will call Eric Paulsen, Hans Ohlsen, and Olaf Bruhn were out fishing one calm day, a shapeless "something" rose just above the surface of the tranquil sea not far from their boat. They could see that there was much more of its bulk under water, but how far it extended they could not ascertain. Mistrusting its appearance, and with foreboding of danger, they were about to get up their anchor, when, suddenly, from thirty feet away, a rope was shot on board which fastened itself on Hans; he was dragged from amongst them towards the strange floating mass; there was a commotion; from the foaming sea upreared themselves, as it seemed to Eric and Olaf, several writhing serpents, which twined themselves around Hans; and as they gazed, helpless, in horror and bewilderment, the monster sank, and with a mighty swirl the waters closed for ever over their unfortunate companion. The men would naturally hasten home, and describe the dreadful incident--their imagination excited by its mysterious nature; the tale would spread through the district, losing nothing by repetition, and within a week the fabled Kraken would be the result. The existence, in almost every sea, of calamaries capable of playing their part in such a scene has been fully proved, and this vexed question of marine zoology set at rest for ever. The "much greater light on this subject," which, as Pontoppidan sagaciously foresaw, was "reserved for posterity," has been thrown upon it by the discoveries of the last few years; and the "further experience which is always the best instructor," and which he correctly anticipated would be possessed by the "future writers," to whom he bequeathed the completion of his "sketch," has been obtained. Viewed by their aid, and seen in the clearer atmosphere of our present knowledge, the great sea-monster which loomed so indefinitely vast in the mist of ignorance and superstition, stands revealed in its true form and proportions--its magnitude reduced, its outline distinct, and its mystery gone--and we recognise in the supposed Kraken, as the Norwegian bishop rightly conjectured that we should, an animal "of the Polypus (or cuttle) kind, and amongst the largest inhabitants of the ocean." THE GREAT SEA SERPENT. The belief in the existence of sea-serpents of formidable dimensions is of great antiquity. Aristotle, writing about B.C. 340, says[22]:--"The serpents of Libya are of an enormous size. Navigators along that coast report having seen a great quantity of bones of oxen, which they believe, without doubt, to have been devoured by the serpents. These serpents pursued them when they left the shore, and upset one of their triremes"--a vessel of a large class, having three banks of oars. [22] 'History of Animals,' book 8, chap. 28. Pliny tells us[23] that a squadron sent by Alexander the Great on a voyage of discovery, under the command of Onesicritus and Nearchus, encountered, in the neighbourhood of some islands in the Persian Gulf, sea-serpents thirty feet long, which filled the fleet with terror. [23] 'Naturalis Historiæ,' Lib. vi., cap. 23. Valerius Maximus,[24] quoting Livy, describes the alarm into which, during the Punic wars, the Romans, under Attilius Regulus (who was afterwards so cruelly put to death by the Carthaginians), were thrown by an aquatic, though not marine, serpent which had its lair on the banks of the Bagrados, near Ithaca. It is said to have swallowed many of the soldiers, after crushing them in its folds, and to have kept the army from crossing the river, till at length, being invulnerable by ordinary weapons, it was destroyed by heavy stones hurled by balistas, catapults, and other military engines used in those days for casting heavy missiles, and battering the walls of fortified towns. According to the historian, the annoyance caused by it to the army did not cease with its death, for the water was polluted with its gore, and the air with the noxious fumes from its corrupted carcase, to such a degree that the Romans were obliged to remove their camp. They, however secured the animal's skin and skull, which were preserved in a temple at Rome till the time of the Numantine war. This combat has been described, to the same effect, by Florus (lib. ii.), Seneca (litt. 82), Silvius Italicus (l. vi.), Aulus Gellius (lib. vi., cap. 3), Orosius, Zonaras, &c., and is referred to by Pliny (lib. viii., cap. 14) as an incident known to every one. Diodorus Siculus also tells of a great serpent, sixty feet long, which lived chiefly in the water, but landed at frequent intervals to devour the cattle in its neighbourhood. A party was collected to capture it; but their first attempt failed, and the monster killed twenty of them. It was afterwards taken in a strong net, carried alive to Alexandria, and presented to King Ptolemy II., the founder of the Alexandrian Library and Museum, who was a great collector of zoological and other curiosities. This snake was probably one of the great boas. [24] 'De Factis, Dictisque Memorabilibus,' Lib. i., cap. 8, 1st century. The "_Serpens marinus_" is figured and referred to by many other writers, but as they evidently allude to the Conger and the Murena, we will pass over their descriptions. The sea-serpents mentioned by Aristotle, Pliny, and Diodorus were, doubtless, real sea-snakes, true marine ophidians, which are more common in tropical seas than is generally supposed. They are found most abundantly in the Indian Ocean; but they have an extensive geographical range, and between forty and fifty species of them are known. They are all highly poisonous, and some are so ferocious that they more frequently attack than avoid man. The greatest length to which they are authentically known to attain is about twelve feet. The form and structure of these _hydrophides_ are modified from those of land serpents, to suit their aquatic habits. The tail is compressed vertically, flattened from the sides, so as to form a fin like the tail of an eel, by which they propel themselves; but instead of tapering to a point, it is rounded off at the end, like the blade of a paper-knife, or the scabbard of a cavalry sabre. Like other lung-breathing animals which live in water, they are also provided with a respiratory apparatus adapted to their circumstances and requirements--their nostrils, which are very small, being furnished, like those of the seal, manatee, &c., with a valve opening at will to admit air, and closing perfectly to exclude water. Leaving these water-snakes of the tropics, we come, next in order of date, upon some very remarkable evidence that there was current amongst a community where we should little expect to find it, the idea of a marine monster corresponding in many respects with some of the descriptions given several centuries later of the sea-serpent. In an interesting article on the Catacombs of Rome in the _Illustrated London News_ of February 3rd, 1872, allusion is made by the author to the collection of sarcophagi or coffins of the early Christians, removed from the Catacombs, and preserved in the museum of the Lateran Palace, where they were arranged by the late Padre Marchi for Pope Pius IX. There are more than twenty of these, sculptured with various designs--the Father and the Son, Adam and Eve and the Serpent, the Sacrifice of Abraham, Moses striking the Rock, Daniel and the Lions, and other Scripture themes. Amongst them also is Jonah and the "whale." A facsimile of this sculpture (Fig. 11) is one of the illustrations of the article referred to. It will be seen that Jonah is being swallowed feet foremost, or possibly being ejected head first, by an enormous sea monster, having the chest and fore-legs of a horse, a long arching neck, with a mane at its base, near the shoulders, a head like nothing in nature, but having hair upon and beneath the cheeks, the hinder portion of the body being that of a serpent of prodigious length, undulating in several vertical curves. This sculpture appears to have been cut between the beginning and the middle of the third century, about A.D. 230, but it probably represents a tradition of far greater antiquity. [Illustration: FIG. 11.--JONAH AND THE SEA MONSTER. _From the Catacombs of Rome._] We will now consider the accounts given by Scandinavian historians, of the sea-serpent having been seen in northern waters. Here, I suppose, I ought to indulge in the usual flippant sneer at Bishop Pontoppidan. I know that in abstaining from doing so I am sadly out of the fashion; but I venture to think that the dead lion has been kicked at too often already, and undeservedly. Whether there be, or be not, a huge marine animal, not necessarily an ophidian, answering to some of the descriptions of the sea-serpent--so called--Pontoppidan did not invent the stories told of its appearance. Long before he was born the monster had been described and figured; and for centuries previously the Norwegians, Swedes, Danes, and Fins had believed in its existence as implicitly as in the tenets of their religious creed. Olaus Magnus, Archbishop of Upsala, in Sweden, wrote of it in A.D. 1555 as follows:[25]-- "They who in works of navigation on the coasts of Norway employ themselves in fishing or merchandize do all agree in this strange story, that there is a serpent there which is of a vast magnitude, namely 200 foot long, and moreover, 20 foot thick; and is wont to live in rocks and caves toward the sea-coast about Berge: which will go alone from his holes on a clear night in summer, and devour calves, lambs, and hogs, or else he goes into the sea to feed on polypus (octopus), locusts (lobsters), and all sorts of sea-crabs. He hath commonly hair hanging from his neck a cubit long, and sharp scales, and is black, and he hath flaming, shining eyes. This snake disquiets the shippers; and he puts up his head on high like a pillar, and catcheth away men, and he devours them; and this happeneth not but it signifies some wonderful change of the kingdom near at hand; namely, that the princes shall die, or be banished; or some tumultuous wars shall presently follow. There is also another serpent of an incredible magnitude in an island called Moos in the diocess of Hammer; which, as a comet portends a change in all the world, so that portends a change in the kingdom of Norway, as it was seen anno 1522; that lifts himself high above the waters, and rolls himself round like a sphere.[26] This serpent was thought to be fifty cubits long by conjecture, by sight afar off: there followed this the banishment of King Christiernus, and a great persecution of the Bishops; and it shewed also the destruction of the country." [25] 'Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus,' Lib. xxi. cap. 43. [26] "Coils itself in spherical convolutions" is a better translation of the original Latin. The Gothic Archbishop, amongst other signs and omens, also attributes this power of divination to the small red ants which are sometimes so troublesome in houses, and declares that they also portended the downfall, A.D. 1523, of the abominably cruel Danish king, Christian II., above mentioned. His curious work is full of wild improbabilities and odd superstitions, most of which he states with a calm air of unquestioning assent; but as he wrote in the time of our Henry VIII., long before the belief in witches and warlocks, fairies and banshees, had died out in our own country, we can hardly throw stones at him on that score. It is a most amusing and interesting history, and gives a wonderful insight of the habits and customs of the northern nations in his day. Amongst his illustrations of the sea monsters he describes are the two of which I give facsimiles on the next page. In Fig. 12 a sea-serpent is seen writhing in many coils upon the surface of the water, and having in its mouth a sailor, whom it has seized from the deck of a ship. The poor fellow is trying to grasp the ratlins of the shrouds, but is being dragged from his hold and lifted over the bulwarks by the monster. His companions, in terror, are endeavouring to escape in various directions. One is climbing aloft by the stay, in the hope of getting out of reach in that way, whilst two others are hurrying aft to obtain the shelter of a little castle or cabin projecting over the stern. I am strongly of the opinion that this is but the fallacious representation of an actual occurrence. Read by the light of recent knowledge, these old pictures convey to a practised eye a meaning as clear as that of hieroglyphics to an Egyptologist, and my translation of this is the following: The crew of a ship have witnessed the dreadful sight of a serpent-like form issuing from the sea, rising over the bulwarks of their vessel, seizing one of their messmates from amongst them, and dragging him overboard and under water. Awe-stricken by the mysterious disappearance of their comrade, and too frightened and anxious for their own safety to be able, during the short space of time occupied by an affair, which all happened in a few seconds, to observe accurately their terrible assailant, they naturally conjecture that it must have been a snake. It was probably a gigantic calamary, such as we now know exist, and the dead carcases of which have been found in the locality where the event depicted is supposed to have taken place. The presumed body of the serpent was one of the arms of the squid, and the two rows of suckers thereto belonging are indicated in the illustration by the medial line traversing its whole length (intended to represent a dorsal fin) and the double row of transverse septa, one on each side of it. [Illustration: FIG. 12.--A SEA SERPENT SEIZING A MAN ON BOARD SHIP. _After_ OLAUS MAGNUS.] [Illustration: FIG. 13.--A GIGANTIC LOBSTER DRAGGING A MAN FROM A SHIP. _After_ OLAUS MAGNUS.] In Fig. 13 an enormous lobster is in the act of similarly dragging overboard from a vessel a man whom it has seized by the arm with one of its great claws. From the crude image of a lobster having eight minor claws and two larger ones, to that of a cuttle having eight minor arms and two longer ones, the transition is not great; and I believe that this also is a pictorial misrepresentation of a casualty by the attack of a calamary similar to that above described, possibly another view of the same incident. The idea is that of a sea animal capable of suddenly seizing and grasping a man, and we must remember that we have evidence, in the writings of Pontoppidan and others, that, even two centuries later than Olaus Magnus, the Norsemen's knowledge of the cuttles was exceedingly vague and indistinct. Any one who has seen, as I frequently have at the Brighton Aquarium, and as they doubtless had whilst lobster-catching, the threatening and ferocious manner in which a lobster will brandish, and, if I may use the term, "gnash" its claws at an intruding hand, even if held above the surface of the water, can well imagine a party of fishermen discussing such a tragic occurrence as the foregoing, and differing in opinion as to the identity of the creature which had caused the catastrophe, some maintaining that it must have been a sea-serpent, and others shaking their heads and asserting that nothing but a colossal lobster could have done it. Pontoppidan, in writing his history of Norway, of course had before him the statements of Olaus Magnus; but, though their author was an archbishop, he did not accept them with the childlike simplicity generally ascribed to him. Quoting, and, singularly enough, misquoting, the Swedish prelate as referring to a sea-serpent, when he is describing, incorrectly, one of the _Acalephæ_, or sea-nettles, Pontoppidan says:-- "I have never heard of this sort, and should hardly believe the good Olaus if he did not say that he affirmed this from his own experience. The disproportion makes me think there must be some error of the press.... He mixes truth and fable together according to the relations of others; but this was excusable in that dark age when that author wrote. Notwithstanding all this, we, in the present more enlightened age, are much obliged to him for his industry and judicious observations." Of the sea-serpent Pontoppidan writes:-- "I have questioned its existence myself, till that suspicion was removed by full and sufficient evidence from creditable and experienced fishermen and sailors in Norway, of which there are hundreds who can testify that they have annually seen them. All these persons agree very well in the general description; and others who acknowledge that they only know it by report or by what their neighbours have told them, still relate the same particulars. In all my inquiry about these affairs I have hardly spoke with any intelligent person born in the manor of Nordland who was not able to give a pertinent answer, and strong assurances of the existence of this fish; and some of our north traders that come here every year with their merchandize think it a very strange question when they are seriously asked whether there be any such creature: they think it as ridiculous as if the question was put to them whether there be such fish as eel or cod." The worthy Bishop of Bergen did his best to sift truth from fable, but he could not always succeed in separating them. Many stupendous falsehoods were brought to him, and some of them passed through his sieve in spite of his care. Of these are the accounts of the "spawning times" of the sea-serpent, its dislike of certain scents, &c. We must pass over all this, and confine ourselves to the evidence offered by him of its having been seen. The first witness he adduces is Captain Lawrence de Ferry, of the Norwegian navy, and first pilot in Bergen, who, premising that he had doubted a great while whether there were any such creature till he had ocular demonstration of it, made the following statement, addressed formally and officially to the procurator of Bergen:-- "Mr. JOHN REUTZ-- "The latter end of August, in the year 1746, as I was on a voyage, on my return from Trundhiem, on a very calm and hot day, having a mind to put in at Molde, it happened that when we were arrived with my vessel within six English miles of the aforesaid Molde, being at a place called Jule-Næss, as I was reading in a book, I heard a kind of a murmuring voice from amongst the men at the oars, who were eight in number, and observed that the man at the helm kept off from the land. Upon this I inquired what was the matter, and was informed that there was a sea-snake before us. I then ordered the man at the helm to keep to the land again, and to come up with this creature of which I had heard so many stories. Though the fellows were under some apprehension, they were obliged to obey my orders. In the meantime the sea-snake passed by us, and we were obliged to tack the vessel about in order to get nearer to it. As the snake swam faster than we could row, I took my gun, that was ready charged, and fired at it; on this he immediately plunged under the water. We rowed to the place where it sunk down (which in the calm might be easily observed) and lay upon our oars, thinking it would come up again to the surface; however it did not. Where the snake plunged down, the water appeared thick and red; perhaps some of the shot might wound it, the distance being very little. The head of this snake, which it held more than two feet above the surface of the water, resembled that of a horse. It was of a greyish colour, and the mouth was quite black, and very large. It had black eyes, and a long white mane, that hung down from the neck to the surface of the water. Besides the head and neck, we saw seven or eight folds, or coils, of this snake, which were very thick, and as far as we could guess there was about a fathom distance between each fold. I related this affair in a certain company, where there was a person of distinction present who desired that I would communicate to him an authentic detail of all that happened; and for this reason two of my sailors, who were present at the same time and place where I saw this monster, namely, Nicholas Pedersen Kopper, and Nicholas Nicholsen Anglewigen, shall appear in court, to declare on oath the truth of every particular herein set forth; and I desire the favour of an attested copy of the said descriptions. "I remain, Sir, your obliged servant, "L. DE FERRY. "Bergen, 21st February, 1751. "After this the before-named witnesses gave their corporal oaths, and, with their finger held up according to law, witnessed and confirmed the aforesaid letter or declaration, and every particular set forth therein to be strictly true. A copy of the said attestation was made out for the said Procurator Reutz, and granted by the Recorder. That this was transacted in our court of justice we confirm with our hand and seals. _Actum Bergis die et loco, ut supra._ "A. C. DASS (_Chief Advocate_). "H. C. GARTNER (_Recorder_)." [Illustration: FIG. 14.--PONTOPPIDAN'S "SEA SERPENT."] The figure of the sea-serpent (Fig. 14) given by Pontoppidan was drawn, he tells us, under the inspection of a clergyman, Mr. Hans Strom, from descriptions given of it by two of his neighbours, Messrs. Reutz and Teuchsen, of Herroe; and was declared to agree in every particular with that seen by Captain de Ferry, and another subsequently observed by Governor Benstrup. The supposed coils of the serpent's body present exactly the appearance of eight porpoises following each other in line. This is a well-known habit of some of the smaller cetacea. They are often met with at sea thus proceeding in close single file, part only of their rotund forms being visible as they raise their backs above the surface of the water to inhale air through their "blow-holes." Under these circumstances they have been described by naturalists and seamen as resembling a long string of casks or buoys, often extending for sixty, eighty, or a hundred yards. This is just such a spectacle as that described by Olaus Magnus--his "long line of spherical convolutions," and also as one reported to Pontoppidan as being descriptive of the sea-serpent:-- "'I have been informed,' he says, 'by some of our sea-faring men that a cable[27] would not be long enough to measure the length of some of them when they are observed on the surface of the water in an even line. They say those round lumps or folds sometimes lie one after another as far as a man can see. I confess, if this be true, that we must suppose most probably that it is not one snake, but two or more of these creatures lying in a line that exhibit this phenomenon.' In a foot-note he adds: 'If any one enquires how many folds may be counted on a sea-snake, the answer is that the number is not always the same, but depends upon the various sizes of them: five and twenty is the greatest number that I find well attested.' Adam Olearius, in his Gottorf Museum, writes of it thus: 'A person of distinction from Sweden related here at Gottorf that he had heard the burgomaster of Malmoe, a very worthy man, say that as he was once standing on the top of a very high hill, towards the North Sea, he saw in the water, which was very calm, a snake, which appeared at that distance to be as thick as a pipe of wine, and had twenty-five folds. Those kind of snakes only appear at certain times, and in calm weather.'" [27] Six hundred feet. I believe that in every case so far cited from Pontoppidan, as well as that given by Olaus Magnus, the supposed coils or protuberances of the serpent's body, were only so many porpoises swimming in line in accordance with their habit before mentioned. If an upraised head, like that of a horse, was seen preceding them, it was either unconnected with them, or it certainly was not that of a snake; for no serpent could throw its body into those vertical undulations. The form of the vertebræ in the ophidians renders such a movement impossible. All their flexions are horizontal; the curving of their body is from side to side, not up and down. The sea-monster seen by Egede was of an entirely different kind; and his account of it--let sceptics deride it as they may--is worthy of attention and careful consideration. The Rev. Hans Egede, known as "The Apostle of Greenland," was superintendent of the Christian missions to that country. He was a truthful, pious, and single-minded man, possessing considerable powers of observation, and a genuine love of natural history. He wrote two books on the products, people, and natural history of Greenland,[28] and his statements therein are modest, accurate, and free from exaggeration. His illustrations are little, if at all, superior in style of art to the two Japanese wood-cuts shown on page 29, but they bear the same unmistakable signs of fidelity which characterise those of the Japanese. [28] 'Des alten Grönlands neue Perlustration,' 8vo., Frankfurt, 1730, and 'Det Gamle Grönlands nye perlustratione eller Naturel Historie.' 4to., Copenhagen, 1741. In his 'Journal of the Missions to Greenland' this author tell us that-- "On the 6th of July, 1734, there appeared a very large and frightful sea monster, which raised itself so high out of the water that its head reached above our main-top. It had a long, sharp snout, and spouted water like a whale; and very broad flappers. The body seemed to be covered with scales, and the skin was uneven and wrinkled, and the lower part was formed like a snake. After some time the creature plunged backwards into the water, and then turned its tail up above the surface, a whole ship-length from the head. The following evening we had very bad weather." The high character of the narrator would lead us to accept his statement that he had seen something previously unknown to him (he does not say it was a sea-serpent) even if we could not explain or understand what it was that he saw. Fortunately, however, the sketch made by Mr. Bing, one of his brother missionaries, has enabled us to do this. We must remember that in his endeavour to portray the incident he was dealing with an animal with the nature of which he was unacquainted, and which was only partially, and for a very short time, within his view. He therefore delineated rather the impression left on his mind than the thing itself. But although he invested it with a character that did not belong to it, his drawing is so far correct that we are able to recognise at a glance the distorted portrait of an old acquaintance, and to say unhesitatingly that Egede's sea-monster was one of the great calamaries which have since been occasionally met with, but which have only been believed in and recognised within the last few years. That which Mr. Egede believed to be the creature's head was the tail part of the cuttle, which goes in advance as the animal swims, and the two side appendages represent very efficiently the two lobes of the caudal fin. In propelling itself to the surface the squid raised this portion of its body out of the water to a considerable height, an occurrence which I have often witnessed, and which I have elsewhere described (see pp. 23 and 27). The supposed tail, which was turned up at some distance from the other visible portion of the body, after the latter had sunk back into the sea, was one of the shorter arms of the cuttle, and the suckers on its under side are clearly and conspicuously marked. Egede was, of course, in error in making the "spout" of water to issue from the mouth of his monster. The out-pouring jet, which he, no doubt, saw, came from the locomotor tube, and the puff of spray which would accompany it as the orifice of the tube rose to the surface of the water is sketched with remarkable truthfulness. In quoting Egede, Pontoppidan gives a copy (so-called) of this engraving, but his artist embellished it so much as to deprive it of its original force and character, and of the honestly drawn points which furnish proofs of its identity. [Illustration: FIG. 15--THE ANIMAL DRAWN BY MR. BING AS HAVING BEEN SEEN BY HANS EGEDE.] [Illustration: FIG. 16.--THE ANIMAL WHICH EGEDE PROBABLY SAW.] Pontoppidan records other supposed appearances of the sea-serpent, but from the date of his history I know of no other account of such an occurrence until that of an animal "apparently belonging to this class," which was stranded on the Island of Stronsa, one of the Orkneys, in the year 1808:-- "According to the narrative, it was first seen entire, and measured by respectable individuals. It measured fifty-six feet in length, and twelve in circumference. The head was small, not being a foot long from the snout to the first vertebra; the neck was slender, extending to the length of fifteen feet. All the witnesses agree in assigning it blow-holes, though they differ as to the precise situation. On the shoulders something like a bristly mane commenced which extended to near the extremity of the tail. It had three pairs of fins or paws connected with the body; the anterior were the largest, measuring more than four feet in length, and their extremities were something like toes partially webbed. The skin was smooth and of a greyish colour; the eye was of the size of a seal's. When the decaying carcass was broken up by the waves, portions of it were secured (such as the skull, the upper bones of the swimming paws, &c.) by Mr. Laing, a neighbouring proprietor, and some of the vertebræ were preserved and deposited in the Royal University Museum, Edinburgh, and in the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. An able paper," says Dr. Robert Hamilton, in his account of it,[29] "on these latter fragments and on the wreck of the animal was read by the late Dr. Barclay to the Wernerian Society, and will be found in Vol. I. of its Transactions, to which we refer. We have supplied a wood-cut of the sketch" (of which I give a _facsimile_ here) "which was taken at the time, and which, from the many affidavits proffered by respectable individuals, as well as from other circumstances narrated, leaves no manner of doubt as to the existence of some such animal." [29] Jardine's Naturalists' Library: 'Marine Amphibia,' p. 314. [Illustration: FIG. 17.--THE "SEA SERPENT" OF THE WERNERIAN SOCIETY. (_Facsimile._)] Well! one would think so. It looks convincing, and there is a savour of philosophy about it that might lull the suspicions of a doubting zoologist. What more could be required? We have accurate measurements and a sketch taken of the animal as it lay upon the shore, minute particulars of its outward form, characteristic portions of its skeleton preserved in well-known museums, and any amount of affidavits forthcoming from most respectable individuals if confirmation be required. And yet, "'Tis true, 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true," the whole fabric of circumstances crumbled at the touch of science. When the two vertebræ in the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons were examined by Sir Everard Home he pronounced them to be those of a great shark of the genus _Selache_, and as being undistinguishable from those of the species called the "basking shark," of which individuals from thirty to thirty-five feet in length have been from time to time captured or stranded on our coasts. Professor Owen has confirmed this. Any one who feels inclined to dispute the identification by this distinguished comparative anatomist of a bone which he has seen and handled can examine these vertebræ for himself. If they had not been preserved, this incident would have been cited for all time as among the most satisfactorily authenticated instances on record of the appearance of the sea-serpent. As it is, it furnishes a valuable warning of the necessity for the most careful scrutiny of the evidence of well-meaning persons to whom no intentional deception or exaggeration can be imputed. In 1809, Mr. Maclean, the minister of Eigg, in the Western Isles of Scotland, informed Dr. Neill, the secretary of the Wernerian Society, that he had seen, off the Isle of Canna, a great animal which chased his boat as he hurried ashore to escape from it; and that it was also seen by the crews of thirteen fishing-boats, who were so terrified by it that they fled from it to the nearest creek for safety. His description of it is exceedingly vague, but is strongly indicative of a great calamary. In 1817 a large marine animal, supposed to be a serpent, was seen at Gloucester Harbour, near Cape Ann, Massachusetts, about thirty miles from Boston. The Linnæan Society of New England investigated the matter, and took much trouble to obtain evidence thereon. The depositions of eleven credible witnesses were certified on oath before magistrates, one of whom had himself seen the creature, and who confirmed the statements. All agreed that the animal had the appearance of a serpent, but estimated its length, variously, at from fifty to a hundred feet. Its head was in shape like that of a turtle, or snake, but as large as the head of a horse. There was no appearance of a mane. Its mode of progressing was by vertical undulations; and five of the witnesses described it as having the hunched protuberances mentioned by Captain de Ferry and others. Of this, I can offer no zoological explanation. The testimony given was apparently sincere, but it was received with mistrust; for, as Mr. Gosse says, "owing to a habit prevalent in the United States of supposing that there is somewhat of wit in gross exaggeration or hoaxing invention, we do naturally look with a lurking suspicion on American statements when they describe unusual or disputed phenomena." On the 15th of May, 1833, a party of British officers, consisting of Captain Sullivan, Lieutenants Maclachlan and Malcolm of the Rifle Brigade, Lieutenant Lister of the Artillery, and Mr. Ince of the Ordnance, whilst crossing Margaret's Bay in a small yacht, on their way from Halifax to Mahone Bay, "saw, at a distance of a hundred and fifty to two hundred yards, the head and neck of some denizen of the deep, precisely like those of a common snake in the act of swimming, the head so far elevated and thrown forward by the curve of the neck, as to enable them to see the water under and beyond it. The creature rapidly passed, leaving a regular wake, from the commencement of which to the fore part, which was out of water, they judged its length to be about eighty feet." They "set down the head at about six feet in length (considerably larger than that of a horse), and that portion of the neck which they saw at the same." "There could be no mistake--no delusion," they say; "and we were all perfectly satisfied that we had been favoured with a view of the true and veritable sea-serpent." This account was published in the _Zoologist_, in 1847 (p. 1715), and at that date all the officers above named were still living. The next incident of the kind in point of date that we find recorded carries us back to the locality of which Pontoppidan wrote, and in which was seen the animal vouched for by Captain de Ferry. In 1847 there appeared in a London daily paper a long account translated from the Norse journals of fresh appearances of the sea-serpent. The statement made was, that it had recently been frequently seen in the neighbourhood of Christiansand and Molde. In the large bight of the sea at Christiansand it had been seen every year, only in the warmest weather, and when the sea was perfectly calm, and the surface of the water unruffled. The evidence of three respectable persons was taken, namely, Nils Roe, a workman at Mr. William Knudtzon's, who saw it twice there, John Johnson, merchant, and Lars Johnöen, fisherman at Smolen. The latter said he had frequently seen it, and that one afternoon in the dog-days, as he was sitting in his boat, he saw it twice in the course of two hours, and quite close to him. It came, indeed, to within six feet of him, and, becoming alarmed, he commended his soul to God, and lay down in the boat, only holding his head high enough to enable him to observe the monster. It passed him, disappeared, and returned; but, a breeze springing up, it sank, and he saw it no more. He described it as being about six fathoms long, the body (which was as round as a serpent's) two feet across, the head as long as a ten-gallon cask, the eyes large, round, red, sparkling, and about five inches in diameter: close behind the head a mane like a fin commenced along the neck, and spread itself out on both sides, right and left, when swimming. The mane, as well as the head, was of the colour of mahogany. The body was quite smooth, its movements occasionally fast and slow. It was serpent-like, and moved up and down. The few undulations which those parts of the body and tail that were out of water made, were scarcely a fathom in length. These undulations were not so high that he could see between them and the water. In confirmation of this account Mr. Soren Knudtzon, Dr. Hoffmann, surgeon in Molde, Rector Hammer, Mr. Kraft, curate, and several other persons, testified that they had seen in the neighbourhood of Christiansand a sea-serpent of considerable size. Mr. William Knudtzon, and Mr. Bochlum, a candidate for holy orders, also gave their account of it, much to the same purport; but some of these remarks are worthy of note for future comment. They say, "its motions were in undulations, and so strong that white foam appeared before it, and at the side, which stretched out several fathoms. It did not appear very high out of the water; the head was long and small in proportion to the throat: as the latter appeared much greater than the former, probably it was furnished with a mane." Sheriffe Göttsche testified to a similar effect. "He could not judge of the animal's entire length; he could not observe its extremity. At the back of the head there was a mane, which was the same colour as the rest of the body." We must take one more Norwegian account, for it is a very important one. The venerable P. W. Deinbolt,[30] Archdeacon of Molde, gives the following account of an incident that occurred there on the 28th of July, 1845: [30] Hitherto erroneously printed "Deinboll." "J. C. Lund, bookseller and printer; G. S. Krogh, merchant; Christian Flang, Lund's apprentice, and John Elgenses, labourer, were out on Romsdal-fjord, fishing. The sea was, after a warm, sunshiny day, quite calm. About seven o'clock in the afternoon, at a little distance from the shore, near the ballast place and Molde Hooe, they saw a long marine animal, which slowly moved itself forward, as it appeared to them, with the help of two fins, on the fore-part of the body nearest the head, which they judged by the boiling of the water on both sides of it. The visible part of the body appeared to be between forty and fifty feet in length, and moved in undulations, like a snake. The body was round and of a dark colour, and seemed to be several ells in thickness. As they discerned a waving motion in the water behind the animal, they concluded that part of the body was concealed under water. That it was one continuous animal they saw plainly from its movement. When the animal was about one hundred yards from the boat, they noticed tolerably correctly its fore parts, which ended in a sharp snout; its colossal head raised itself above the water in the form of a semi-circle; the lower part was not visible. The colour of the head was dark-brown and the skin smooth; they did not notice the eyes, or any mane or bristles on the throat. When the serpent came about a musket-shot near, Lund fired at it, and was certain the shots hit it in the head. After the shot it dived, but came up immediately. It raised its neck in the air, like a snake preparing to dart on his prey. After he had turned and got his body in a straight line, which he appeared to do with great difficulty, he darted like an arrow against the boat. They reached the shore, and the animal, perceiving it had come into shallow water, dived immediately and disappeared in the deep. Such is the declaration of these four men, and no one has cause to question their veracity, or imagine that they were so seized with fear that they could not observe what took place so near them. There are not many here, or on other parts of the Norwegian coast, who longer doubt the existence of the sea-serpent. The writer of this narrative was a long time sceptical, as he had not been so fortunate as to see this monster of the deep; but after the many accounts he has read, and the relations he has received from credible witnesses, he does not dare longer to doubt the existence of the sea-serpent. "P. W. DEINBOLT. "Molde, 29th Nov., 1845." We may at once accept most fully and frankly the statements of all the worthy people mentioned in this series of incidents. There is no room for the shadow of a doubt that they all recounted conscientiously that which they saw. The last quoted occurrence, especially, is most accurately and intelligently described--so clearly, indeed, that it furnishes us with a clue to the identity of the strange visitant. Here let me say--and I wish it to be distinctly understood--that I do not deny the possibility of the existence of a great sea serpent, or other great creatures at present unknown to science, and that I have no inclination to explain away that which others have seen, because I myself have not witnessed it. "Seeing is believing," it is said, and it is not agreeable to have to tell a person that, in common parlance, he "must not trust his own eyes." It seems presumptuous even to hint that one may know better what was seen than the person who saw it. And yet I am obliged to say, reluctantly and courteously, but most firmly and assuredly, that these perfectly credible eye-witnesses did not correctly interpret that which they witnessed. In these cases, it is not the eye which deceives, nor the tongue which is untruthful, but the imagination which is led astray by the association of the thing seen with an erroneous idea. I venture to say this, not with any insolent assumption of superior acumen, but because we now possess a key to the mystery which Archdeacon Deinbolt and his neighbours had not access to, and which has only within the last few years been placed in our hands. The movements and aspect of their sea monster are those of an animal with which we are now well acquainted, but of the existence of which the narrators of these occasional visitations were unaware; namely, the great calamary, the same which gave rise to the stories of the Kraken, and which has probably been a denizen of the Scandinavian seas and fjords from time immemorial. It must be remembered, as I have elsewhere said, that until the year 1873, notwithstanding the adventure of the _Alecton_ in 1861, a cuttle measuring in total length fifty or sixty feet was generally looked upon as equally mythical with the great sea-serpent. Both were popularly scoffed at, and to express belief in either was to incur ridicule. But in the year above mentioned, specimens of even greater dimensions than those quoted were met with on the coasts of Newfoundland, and portions of them were deposited in museums, to silence the incredulous and interest zoologists. When Archdeacon Deinbolt published in 1846 the declaration of Mr. Lund and his companions of the fishing excursion, he and they knew nothing of there being such an animal. They had formed no conception of it, nor had they the instructive privilege, possessed of late years by the public in England, of being able to watch attentively, and at leisure, the habits and movements of these strangely modified mollusks living in great tanks of sea-water in aquaria. If they had been thus acquainted with them, I believe they would have recognised in their supposed snake the elongated body of a giant squid. [Illustration: FIG. 18.--A CALAMARY SWIMMING AT THE SURFACE OF THE SEA.] When swimming, these squids propel themselves backwards by the out-rush of a stream of water from a tube pointed in a direction contrary to that in which the animal is proceeding. The tail part, therefore, goes in advance, and the body tapers towards this, almost to a blunt point. At a short distance from the actual extremity two flat fins project from the body, one on each side, as shown in Figs. 16 and 18, so that this end of the squid's body somewhat resembles in shape the government "broad arrow." It is a habit of these squids, the small species of which are met with in some localities in teeming abundance, to swim on the smooth surface of the water in hot and calm weather. The arrow-headed tail is then raised out of water, to a height which in a large individual might be three feet or more; and, as it precedes the rest of the body, moving at the rate of several miles an hour, it of course looks, to a person who has never heard of an animal going tail first at such a speed, like the creature's head. The appearance of this "head" varies in accordance with the lateral fins being seen in profile or in broad expanse. The elongated, tubular-looking body gives the idea of the neck to which the "head" is attached; the eight arms trailing behind (the tentacles are always coiled away and concealed) supply the supposed mane floating on each side; the undulating motion in swimming, as the water is alternately drawn in and expelled, accords with the description, and the excurrent stream pouring aft from the locomotor tube, causes a long swirl and swell to be left in the animal's wake, which, as I have often seen, may easily be mistaken for an indefinite prolongation of its body. The eyes are very large and prominent, and the general tone of colour varies through every tint of brown, purple, pink, and grey, as the creature is more or less excited, and the pigmentary matter circulates with more or less vigour through the curiously moving cells. Here we have the "long marine animal" with "two fins on the forepart of the body near the head," the "boiling of the water," the "moving in undulations," the "body round, and of a dark colour," the "waving motion in the water behind the animal, from which the witnesses concluded that part of the body was concealed under water," the "head raised, but the lower part not visible," "the sharp snout," the "smooth skin," and the appearance described by Mr. William Knudtzon, and Candidatus Theologiæ Bochlum, of "the head being long and small in proportion to the throat, the latter appearing much greater than the former," which caused them to think "it was _probably_ furnished with a mane." Not that they _saw_ any mane, but as they had been told of it, they thought they _ought to have seen it_. Less careful and conscientious persons would have persuaded themselves, and declared on oath, that they _did see it_. I need scarcely point out how utterly irreconcileable is the proverbially smooth, gliding motion of a serpent, with the supposition of its passage through the water causing such frictional disturbance that "white foam appeared before it, and at the side, which stretched out several fathoms," and of "the water boiling around it on both sides of it." The cuttle is the only animal that I know of that would cause this by the effluent current from its "syphon tube." I have seen a deeply laden ship push in front of her a vast hillock of water, which fell off on each side in foam as it was parted by her bow; but that was of man's construction. Nature builds on better lines. No swimming creature has such unnecessary friction to overcome. Even the seemingly unwieldy body of a porpoise enters and passes through the water without a splash, and nothing can be more easy and graceful than the feathering action of the flippers of the awkward-looking turtle. We now come to an incident which, from the character of those who witnessed it, immediately commanded attention, and excited popular curiosity. In the _Times_ of the 9th of October, 1848, appeared a paragraph stating that a sea-serpent had been met with by the _Dædalus_ frigate, on her homeward voyage from the East Indies. The Admiralty immediately inquired of her commander, Captain M'Quhæ, as to the truth of the report; and his official reply, as follows, addressed to Admiral Sir W. H. Gage, G.C.H., Devonport, was printed in the _Times_ of the 13th of October, 1848. "H.M.S. _Dædalus_, Hamoaze, October 11th, 1848. "Sir,--In reply to your letter of this date, requiring information as to the truth of the statement published in the _Times_ newspaper, of a sea-serpent of extraordinary dimensions having been seen from H.M.S. _Dædalus_, under my command, on her passage from the East Indies, I have the honour to acquaint you, for the information of my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, that at 5 o'clock P.M. on the 6th of Aug. last, in lat. 24° 44' S. and long. 9° 22' E., the weather dark and cloudy, wind fresh from the N.W. with a long ocean swell from the W., the ship on the port tack, head being N.E. by N., something very unusual was seen by Mr. Sartoris, midshipman, rapidly approaching the ship from before the beam. The circumstance was immediately reported by him to the officer of the watch, Lieut. Edgar Drummond, with whom and Mr. Wm. Barrett, the Master, I was at the time walking the quarter-deck. The ship's company were at supper. On our attention being called to the object it was discovered to be an enormous serpent, with head and shoulders kept about four feet constantly above the surface of the sea, and, as nearly as we could approximate by comparing it with the length of what our main-topsail yard would show in the water, there was at the very least sixty feet of the animal _à fleur d'eau_, no portion of which was, to our perception, used in propelling it through the water, either by vertical or horizontal undulation. It passed rapidly, but so close under our lee quarter that had it been a man of my acquaintance I should easily have recognised his features with the naked eye; and it did not, either in approaching the ship or after it had passed our wake, deviate in the slightest degree from its course to the S.W., which it held on at the pace of from twelve to fifteen miles per hour, apparently on some determined purpose. "The diameter of the serpent was about fifteen or sixteen inches behind the head, which was without any doubt that of a snake; and it was never, during the twenty minutes it continued in sight of our glasses, once below the surface of the water; its colour dark brown, and yellowish white about the throat. It had no fins, but something like the mane of a horse, or rather a bunch of seaweed, washed about its back. It was seen by the quartermaster, the boatswain's mate, and the man at the wheel, in addition to myself and the officers above mentioned. "I am having a drawing of the serpent made from a sketch taken immediately after it was seen, which I hope to have ready for transmission to my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty by to-morrow's post.--PETER M'QUHÆ, Captain." The sketches referred to in the captain's letter were made under his supervision, and copies of them, of which he certified his approbation, were published in the _Illustrated London News_ on the 28th of October, 1848. I am kindly permitted by the proprietors of that journal to reproduce two of them, reduced in size to suit these pages--one showing the relative positions of the "serpent" and the ship when the former was first seen (_Frontispiece_), and the other (Fig. 19) representing the animal afterwards passing under the frigate's quarter. An enlarged drawing of its head was also given, which I have not thought it necessary to copy. [Illustration: FIG. 19.--THE "SEA SERPENT" PASSING UNDER THE QUARTER OF H.M.S. 'DÆDALUS.'] Lieutenant Drummond, the officer of the watch mentioned in Captain M'Quhæ's report, published his memorandum of the impression made on his mind by the animal at the time of its appearance. It differs somewhat from the captain's description, and is the more cautious of the two. "I beg to send you the following extract from my journal. H.M.S. 'Dædalus,' August 6, 1848, lat. 25° S., long. 9° 37' E., St. Helena 1,015 miles. In the 4 to 6 watch, at about 5 o'clock, we observed a most remarkable fish on our lee-quarter, crossing the stern in a S.W. direction. The appearance of its head, which with the back fin was the only portion of the animal visible, was long, pointed and flattened at the top, perhaps ten feet in length, the upper jaw projecting considerably; the fin was perhaps 20 feet in the rear of the head, and visible occasionally; the captain also asserted that he saw the tail, or another fin, about the same distance behind it; the upper part of the head and shoulders appeared of a dark brown colour, and beneath the under-jaw a brownish-white. It pursued a steady undeviating course, keeping its head horizontal with the surface of the water, and in rather a raised position, disappearing occasionally beneath a wave for a very brief interval, and not apparently for purposes of respiration. It was going at the rate of perhaps from twelve to fourteen miles an hour, and when nearest was perhaps one hundred yards distant; in fact it gave one quite the idea of a large snake or eel. No one in the ship has ever seen anything similar; so it is at least extraordinary. It was visible to the naked eye for five minutes, and with a glass for perhaps fifteen more. The weather was dark and squally at the time, with some sea running.--EDGAR DRUMMOND, Lieut. H.M.S. 'Dædalus;' Southampton, Oct. 28, 1848." Statements so interesting and important, of course, elicited much correspondence and controversy. Mr. J. D. Morries Stirling, a director of the Bergen Museum, wrote to the Secretary of the British Admiralty, Captain Hamilton, R.N., saying that while becalmed in a yacht between Bergen and Sogne, in Norway, he had seen, three years previously, a large fish or reptile of cylindrical form (he would not say "sea serpent") ruffling the otherwise smooth surface of the fjord. No head was visible. This appears to have been, like the others from the same locality, a large calamary. Mr. Stirling unaware, doubtless, that Mr. Edward Newman, editor of the _Zoologist_, had previously propounded the same idea, suggested that the supposed serpent might be one of the old marine reptiles, hitherto supposed only to exist in the fossil state. This letter was published in the _Illustrated News_ of October 28th, and four days afterwards, November 2nd, a letter signed F.G.S. appeared in the _Times_, in which the same idea was mooted, and the opinion expressed that it might be the _Plesiosaurus_. This brought out that great master in physiology, Professor Owen, who in a long, and, it is needless to say, most able letter to the _Times_, dated the 9th of November, 1848, set forth a series of weighty arguments against belief in the supposed serpent, which I regret that I am unable, from want of space, to quote _in extenso_. The reasoning of the most eminent of living physiologists of course had its influence on those who could best appreciate it; but, as it went against the current of popular opinion, it met with little favour from the public, and has been slurred over much too superciliously by some subsequent writers. He suggested also that the creature seen might have been a great seal, such as the leonine seal, or the sea-elephant (the head, as shown in the enlarged drawing, was wonderfully seal-like), but it was generally felt that this explanation was unsatisfactory. The nature of his criticism of the official statement will be seen from Captain M'Quhæ's reply, which was promptly given in the _Times_ of the 21st of November, 1848, as follows:-- "Professor Owen correctly states that I evidently saw a large creature moving rapidly through the water very different from anything I had before witnessed, neither a whale, a grampus, a great shark, an alligator, nor any of the larger surface-swimming creatures fallen in with in ordinary voyages. I now assert--neither was it a common seal nor a sea-elephant, its great length and its totally differing physiognomy precluding the possibility of its being a '_Phoca_' of any species. The head was flat, and not a 'capacious vaulted cranium;' nor had it a stiff, inflexible trunk--a conclusion at which Professor Owen has jumped, most certainly not justified by the simple statement, that no portion of the sixty feet seen by us was used in propelling it through the water either by vertical or horizontal undulation. "It is also assumed that the 'calculation of its length was made under a strong preconception of the nature of the beast;' another conclusion quite contrary to the fact. It was not until after the great length was developed by its nearest approach to the ship, and until after that most important point had been duly considered and debated, as well as such could be in the brief space of time allowed for so doing, that it was pronounced to be a serpent by all who saw it, and who are too well accustomed to judge of lengths and breadths of objects in the sea to mistake a real substance and an actual living body, coolly and dispassionately contemplated, at so short a distance, too, for the 'eddy caused by the action of the deeper immersed fins and tail of a rapidly moving gigantic seal raising its head above the surface of the water,' as Professor Owen imagines, in quest of its lost iceberg. "The creative powers of the human mind may be very limited. On this occasion they were not called into requisition; my purpose and desire throughout being to furnish eminent naturalists, such as the learned Professor, with accurate facts, and not with exaggerated representations, nor with what could by any possibility proceed from optical illusion; and I beg to assure him that old Pontoppidan having clothed his sea-serpent with a mane could not have suggested the idea of ornamenting the creature seen from the 'Dædalus' with a similar appendage, for the simple reason that I had never seen his account, or even heard of his sea-serpent, until my arrival in London. Some other solution must therefore be found for the very remarkable coincidence between us in that particular, in order to unravel the mystery. "Finally, I deny the existence of excitement or the possibility of optical illusion. I adhere to the statements, as to form, colour, and dimensions, contained in my official report to the Admiralty, and I leave them as data whereupon the learned and scientific may exercise the 'pleasures of imagination' until some more fortunate opportunity shall occur of making a closer acquaintance with the 'great unknown'--in the present instance most assuredly no ghost. "P. M'QUHÆ, late Captain of H.M.S. 'Dædalus.'" Of course neither Professor Owen, nor any one else, doubted the veracity or _bona fides_ of the captain and officers of one of Her Majesty's ships; and their testimony was the more important because it was that of men accustomed to the sights of the sea. Their practised eyes would, probably, be able to detect the true character of anything met with afloat, even if only partially seen, as intuitively as the Red Indian reads the signs of the forest or the trail; and therefore they were not likely to be deceived by any of the objects with which sailors are familiar. They would not be deluded by seals, porpoises, trunks of trees, or Brobdingnagian stems of algæ; but there was one animal with which they were not familiar, of the existence of which they were unaware, and which, as I have said, at that date was generally believed to be as unreal as the sea-serpent itself--namely, the great calamary, the elongated form of which has certainly in some other instances been mistaken for that of a sea-snake. One of these seen swimming in the manner I have described, and endeavoured to portray (p. 77), would fulfil the description given by Lieutenant Drummond, and would in a great measure account for the appearances reported by Captain M'Quhæ. "_The head long, pointed and flat on the top_," accords with the pointed extremity and caudal fin of the squid. "_Head kept horizontal with the surface of the water, and in rather a raised position, disappearing occasionally beneath a wave for a very brief interval, and not apparently for purposes of respiration._" A perfect description of the position and action of a squid swimming. "_No portion of it perceptibly used in propelling it through the water, either by vertical or horizontal undulations._" The mode of propulsion of a squid--the outpouring stream of water from its locomotor tube--would be unseen and unsuspected, because submerged. Its effect, the swirl in its wake, would suggest a prolongation of the creature's body. The numerous arms trailing astern at the surface of the water would give the appearance of a mane. I think it not impossible that if the officers of the _Dædalus_ had been acquainted with this great sea creature the impression on their mind's eye would not have taken the form of a serpent. I offer this, with much diffidence, as a suggestion arising from recent discoveries; and by no means insist on its acceptance; for Captain M'Quhæ, who had a very close view of the animal, distinctly says that "the head was, without any doubt, that of a serpent," and one of his officers subsequently declared that the eye, the mouth, the nostril, the colour, and the form were all most distinctly visible. In a letter addressed to the Editor of the _Bombay Times_, and dated "Kamptee, January 3rd, 1849," Mr. R. Davidson, Superintending Surgeon, Nagpore Subsidiary Force, describes a great sea animal seen by him whilst on board the ship _Royal Saxon_, on a voyage to India, in 1829. The features of this incident are consistent with his having seen one of the, then unknown, great calamaries. Dr. Scott, of Exeter, sent to the Editor of the _Zoologist_ (p. 2459), an extract from the memorandum-book of Lieutenant Sandford, R.N., written about the year 1820, when he was in command of the merchant ship _Lady Combermere_. In it he mentions his having met with, in lat. 46, long. 3 (Bay of Biscay), an animal unknown to him, an immense body on the surface of the water, spouting, not unlike the blowing of a whale, and the raising up of a triangular extremity, and subsequently of a head and neck erected six feet above the surface of the water. This was evidently a great squid seen under circumstances similar to those described by Hans Egede (p. 67). In the _Sun_ Newspaper of July 9th, 1849, was published the following statement of Captain Herriman, of the ship _Brazilian_: "On the morning of the 24th February, the ship being becalmed in lat. 26° S., long. 8° E. (about forty miles from the place where Captain M'Quhæ is said to have seen the serpent), the captain perceived something right astern, stretched along the water to a length of twenty five or thirty feet, and perceptibly moving from the ship, with a steady sinuous motion. The head, which seemed to be lifted several feet above the water, had something resembling a mane running down to the floating portion, and within about six feet of the tail. Of course Captain Herriman, Mr. Long, his chief officer, and the passengers who saw this came to the conclusion that it must be the sea-serpent. As the 'Brazilian' was making no headway, to bring all doubts to an issue, the captain had a boat lowered, and himself standing in the bow, armed with a harpoon, approached the monster. It was found to be an immense piece of sea-weed, drifting with the current, which sets constantly to the westward in this latitude, and which, with the swell left by the subsidence of a previous gale, gave it the sinuous snake-like motion." Captain Harrington, of the ship _Castilian_, reported in the _Times_ of February 5th, 1858, that: "On the 12th of December, 1857, N.E. end of St. Helena distant ten miles, he and his officers were startled by the sight of a huge marine animal which reared its head out of the water within twenty yards of the ship. The head was shaped like a long nun-buoy,[31] and they supposed it to have been seven or eight feet in diameter in the largest part, with a kind of scroll or tuft of loose skin, encircling it about two feet from the top. The water was discoloured for several hundred feet from its head, so much so that on its first appearance my impression was that the ship was in broken water." [31] See illustration, p. 67. Evidently, again, a large calamary raising its caudal extremity and fin above the surface, and discolouring the water by discharging its ink. This was immediately followed by a letter from Captain Frederick Smith, of the ship _Pekin_, who stated that: "On December 28th, 1848, being then in lat. 26° S., long. 6° E. (about half-way between the Cape and St. Helena), he saw a very extraordinary-looking thing in the water, of considerable length. With the telescope, he could plainly discern a huge head and neck, covered with a shaggy-looking kind of mane, which it kept lifting at intervals out of water. This was seen by all hands, and was declared to be the great sea-serpent. A boat was lowered; a line was made fast to the 'snake,' and it was towed alongside and hoisted on board. It was a piece of gigantic sea-weed, twenty feet long, and completely covered with snaky-looking barnacles. So like a huge living monster did this appear, that had circumstances prevented my sending a boat to it, I should certainly have believed I had seen the great sea-serpent." In September, 1872, Mr. Frank Buckland published, in _Land and Water_, an account by the late Duke of Marlborough, of a "sea-serpent" having been seen several times within a few days, in Loch Hourn, Scotland. A sketch of it was given which almost exactly accorded with that of Pontoppidan's sea-serpent, namely, seven hunches or protuberances like so many porpoises swimming in line, preceded by a head and neck raised slightly out of water. Many other accounts have been published of the appearance of serpent-like sea monsters, but I have only space for two or three more of the most remarkable of them. On the 10th of January, 1877, the following affidavit was made before Mr. Raffles, magistrate, at Liverpool: "We, the undersigned officers and crew of the barque 'Pauline' (of London), of Liverpool, in the county of Lancaster, in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, do solemnly and sincerely declare that, on July 8, 1875, in lat. 5° 13' S., long. 35° W., we observed three large sperm whales, and one of them was gripped round the body with two turns of what appeared to be a huge serpent. The head and tail appeared to have a length beyond the coils of about thirty feet, and its girth eight feet or nine feet. The serpent whirled its victim round and round for about fifteen minutes, and then suddenly dragged the whale to the bottom, head first. "GEO. DREVAR, Master; HORATIO THOMPSON, JOHN HENDERSON LANDELLS, OWEN BAKER, and WILLIAM LEWARN. "Again, on July 13, a similar serpent was seen, about two hundred yards off, shooting itself along the surface, head and neck being out of the water several feet. This was seen only by the captain and one ordinary seaman. "GEORGE DREVAR, Master. "A few moments after it was seen some 60 feet elevated perpendicularly in the air by the chief officer and the following seamen:--Horatio Thompson, Owen Baker, Wm. Lewarn. And we make this solemn declaration, conscientiously believing the same to be true." In the _Illustrated London News_, of November 20th, 1875, there had previously appeared a letter from the Rev. E. L. Penny, Chaplain to H.M.S. _London_, at Zanzibar, describing this occurrence and also the representation of a sketch (which I am kindly permitted to reproduce here), drawn by him from the descriptions given by the captain and crew of the _Pauline_. "The whale," he said, "should have been placed deeper in the water, but he would then have been unable to depict so clearly the manner in which the animal was attacked." He adds that, "Captain Drevar is a singularly able and observant man, and those of the crew and officers with whom he conversed were singularly intelligent; nor did any of their descriptions vary from one another in the least: there were no discrepancies." The event took place whilst their vessel was on her way from Shields to Zanzibar, with a cargo of coals, for the use of H.M.S. _London_, then the guard ship on that station. It is impossible to doubt for a moment the genuineness of the statement made by Captain Drevar and his crew, or their honest desire to describe faithfully that which they believed they had seen; but the height to which the snake is said to have upreared itself is evidently greatly exaggerated; for it is impossible that any serpent could "elevate its body some sixty feet perpendicularly in the air"--nearly one-third of the height of the Monument of the Great Fire of London. I have no desire to force this narrative of the master and crew of the _Pauline_ into conformity with any preconceived idea. They may have seen a veritable sea-serpent; or they may have witnessed the amours of two whales, and have seen the great creatures rolling over and over that they might breathe alternately by the blow-hole of each coming to the surface of the water; or the supposed coils of the snake may have been the arms of a great calamary, cast over and around the huge cetacean. The other two appearances--1st, the animal "seen shooting itself along the surface with head and neck raised" (p. 77), and 2nd, the elevation of the body to a considerable height, as in Egede's sea monster, (p. 67), would certainly accord with this last hypothesis; but, taking the statement as it stands, it must be left for further elucidation. [Illustration: FIG 20.--THE "SEA SERPENT" AND SPERM WHALE AS SEEN FROM THE 'PAULINE.'] On the 28th of January, 1879, a "sea-serpent" was seen from the s.s. _City of Baltimore_, in the Gulf of Aden, by Major H. W. J. Senior, of the Bengal Staff Corps. The narrator "observed a long, black object darting rapidly in and out of the water, and advancing nearer to the vessel. The shape of the head was not unlike pictures of the dragon he had often seen, with a bull-dog expression of the forehead and eyebrows. When the monster had drawn its head sufficiently out of the water, it let its body drop, as it were a log of wood, prior to darting forward under the water. This motion caused a splash of about fifteen feet in length on either side of the neck much in the 'shape of a pair of wings.'" This last particular of its appearance, as well as its movements, suggest a great calamary; but, as one with "a bull-dog expression of eyebrow, visible at 500 yards distance," does not come within my ken, I will not claim it as such. [Illustration: FIG. 21.--THE "SEA SERPENT" AS SEEN FROM THE 'CITY OF BALTIMORE.'] In June 1877 Commander Pearson reported to the Admiralty, that on the 2nd of that month, he and other officers of the Royal Yacht _Osborne_, had seen, off Cape Vito, Sicily, a large marine animal, of which the following account and sketches were furnished by Lieutenant Haynes, and were confirmed by Commander Pearson, Mr. Douglas Haynes, Mr. Forsyth, and Mr. Moore, engineer. "Lieutenant Haynes writes, under date, 'Royal Yacht _Osborne_, Gibraltar, June 6': On the evening of that day, the sea being perfectly smooth, my attention was first called by seeing a ridge of fins above the surface of the water, extending about thirty feet, and varying from five to six feet in height. On inspecting it by means of a telescope, at about one and a-half cables' distance, I distinctly saw a head, two flappers, and about thirty feet of an animal's shoulder. The head, as nearly as I could judge, was about six feet thick, the neck narrower, about four to five feet, the shoulder about fifteen feet across, and the flappers each about fifteen feet in length. The movements of the flappers were those of a turtle, and the animal resembled a huge seal, the resemblance being strongest about the back of the head. I could not see the length of the head, but from its crown or top to just below the shoulder (where it became immersed), I should reckon about fifty feet. The tail end I did not see, being under water, unless the ridge of fins to which my attention was first attracted, and which had disappeared by the time I got a telescope, were really the continuation of the shoulder to the end of the object's body. The animal's head was not always above water, but was thrown upwards, remaining above for a few seconds at a time, and then disappearing. There was an entire absence of 'blowing,' or 'spouting.' I herewith beg to enclose a rough sketch, showing the view of the 'ridge of fins,' and also of the animal in the act of propelling itself by its two fins." [Illustration: FIG. 22.--THE "SEA SERPENT" AS SEEN FROM H.M. YACHT 'OSBORNE.' PHASE I.] [Illustration: FIG. 23.--THE "SEA SERPENT" AS SEEN FROM H.M. YACHT 'OSBORNE.' PHASE 2.] It seems to me that this description cannot be explained as applicable to any one animal yet known. The ridge of dorsal fins might, possibly, as was suggested by Mr. Frank Buckland, belong to four basking sharks, swimming in line, in close order; but the combination of them with long flippers, and the turtle-like mode of swimming, forms a zoological enigma which I am unable to solve. This brings us face to face with the question: "Is it then so impossible that there may exist some great sea creature, or creatures, with which zoologists are hitherto unacquainted, that it is necessary in every case to regard the authors of such narratives as wilfully untruthful, or mistaken in their observations, if their descriptions are irreconcileable with something already known?" I, for one, am of the opinion that there is no such impossibility. Calamaries or squids of the ordinary size have, from time immemorial, been amongst the commonest and best known of marine animals in many seas; but only a few years ago any one who expressed his belief in one formidable enough to capsize a boat, or pull a man out of one, was derided for his credulity, although voyagers had constantly reported that in the Indian seas they were so dreaded that the natives always carried hatchets with them in their canoes, with which to cut off the arms or tentacles of these creatures, if attacked by them. We now know that their existence is no fiction; for individuals have been captured measuring more than fifty feet, and some are reported to have measured eighty feet, in total length. As marine snakes some feet in length, and having fin-like tails adapted for swimming, abound over an extensive geographical range, and are frequently met with far at sea, I cannot regard it as impossible that some of these also may attain to an abnormal and colossal development. Dr. Andrew Wilson, who has given much attention to this subject, is of the opinion that "in this huge development of ordinary forms we discover the true and natural law of the production of the giant serpent of the sea." It goes far, at any rate, towards accounting for its supposed appearance. I am convinced that, whilst naturalists have been searching amongst the vertebrata for a solution of the problem, the great unknown, and therefore unrecognized, calamaries by their elongated, cylindrical bodies and peculiar mode of swimming, have played the part of the sea-serpent in many a well-authenticated incident. In other cases, such as some of those mentioned by Pontoppidan, the supposed "vertical undulations" of the snake seen out of water have been the burly bodies of so many porpoises swimming in line--the connecting undulations beneath the surface have been supplied by the imagination. The dorsal fins of basking sharks, as figured by Mr. Buckland, or of ribbon-fishes, as suggested by Dr. Andrew Wilson, may have furnished the "ridge of fins;" an enormous conger is not an impossibility; a giant turtle may have done duty, with its propelling flippers and broad back; or a marine snake of enormous size may, really, have been seen. But if we accept as accurate the observations recorded (which I certainly do not in all cases, for they are full of errors and mistakes), the difficulty is not entirely met, even by this last admission, for the instances are very few in which an ophidian proper--a true serpent--is indicated. There has seemed to be wanting an animal having a long snake-like neck, a small head and a slender body, and propelling itself by paddles.[32] [32] It must be noted, however, that in almost every case, except that of the _Osborne_, the paddles were _supposed_, not _seen_, and were invented to account for an animal of great length progressing at the surface of the water at the rate of twelve to fifteen miles an hour without its being possible to perceive, upon the closest and most attentive inspection, any undulatory movement to which its rapid advance could be ascribed. As the great calamaries were unknown, their mode of swift retrograde motion, by means of an outflowing current of water, was of course unsuspected. The similarity of such an animal to the _Plesiosaurus_ of old was remarkable. That curious compound reptile, which has been compared with "a snake threaded through the body of a turtle," is described by Dean Buckland, in his _Bridgewater Treatise_, as having "the head of a lizard, the teeth of a crocodile, a neck of enormous length resembling the body of a serpent, the ribs of a chameleon, and the paddles of a whale." In the number of its cervical vertebræ (about thirty-three) it surpasses that of the longest-necked bird, the swan. The form and probable movements of this ancient saurian agree so markedly with some of the accounts given of the "great sea-serpent," that Mr. Edward Newman advanced the opinion that the closest affinities of the latter would be found to be with the _Enaliosauria_, or marine lizards, whose fossil remains are so abundant in the oolite and the lias. This view has also been taken by other writers, and emphatically by Mr. Gosse. Neither he nor Mr. Newman insist that the "great unknown" must be the _Plesiosaurus_ itself. Mr. Gosse says, "I should not look for any species, scarcely even any genus, to be perpetuated from the oolitic period to the present. Admitting the actual continuation of the order _Enaliosauria_, it would be, I think, quite in conformity with general analogy to find some salient features of several extinct forms." [Illustration: FIG 24. _Plesiosaurus Dolichodeirus restored by The Rev. W. D. Canybeare._] The form and habits of the recently-recognized gigantic cuttles account for so many appearances which, without knowledge of them, were inexplicable when Mr. Gosse and Mr. Newman wrote, that I think this theory is not now forced upon us. Mr. Gosse well and clearly sums up the evidence as follows: "Carefully comparing the independent narratives of English witnesses of known character and position, most of them being officers under the crown, we have a creature possessing the following characteristics: 1st. The general form of a serpent. 2nd. Great length, say above sixty feet. 3rd. Head considered to resemble that of a serpent. 4th. Neck from twelve to sixteen inches in diameter. 5th. Appendages on the head, neck, or back, resembling a crest or mane. (Considerable discrepancy in details.) 6th. Colour dark brown, or green, streaked or spotted with white. 7th. Swims at surface of the water with a rapid or slow movement, the head and neck projected and elevated above the surface. 8th. Progression, steady and uniform; the body straight, but capable of being thrown into convolutions. 9th. Spouts in the manner of a whale. 10th. Like a long nun-buoy." He concludes with the question--"To which of the recognized classes of created beings can this huge rover of the ocean be referred?" I reply: "To the Cephalopoda. There is not one of the above judiciously summarized characteristics that is not supplied by the great calamary, and its ascertained habits and peculiar mode of locomotion. "Only a geologist can fully appreciate how enormously the balance of probability is contrary to the supposition that any of the gigantic marine saurians of the secondary deposits should have continued to live up to the present time. And yet I am bound to say, that this does not amount to an impossibility, for the evidence against it is entirely negative. Nor is the conjecture that there may be in existence some congeners of these great reptiles inconsistent with zoological science. Dr. J. E. Gray, late of the British Museum, a strict zoologist, is cited by Mr. Gosse as having long ago expressed his opinion that some undescribed form exists which is intermediate between the tortoises and the serpents."[33] [33] Dr. Gray wrote in his 'Synopsis of Genera of Reptiles,' in the Annals of Philosophy, 1825: "There is every reason to believe from general structure that there exists an affinity between the tortoises and the snakes; but the genus that exactly unites them is at present unknown to European naturalists; which is not astonishing when we consider the immense number of undescribed animals which are daily occurring. If I may be allowed to speculate from the peculiarities of structure which I have observed, I am inclined to think that the union will most probably take place by some newly discovered genera allied to the marine or fluviatile soft-skinned turtles and the marine serpent." [Illustration: FIG. 25.--THE "SEA SERPENT," ON THE ENALIOSAURIAN HYPOTHESIS. _After_ Mr. P. H. GOSSE, F.R.S.] Professor Agassiz, too, is adduced by a correspondent of the _Zoologist_ (p. 2395), as having said concerning the present existence of the _Enaliosaurian_ type that "it would be in precise conformity with analogy that such an animal should exist in the American Seas, as he had found numerous instances in which the fossil forms of the Old World were represented by living types in the New." On this point, Mr. Newman records, in the _Zoologist_ (p. 2356), an actual testimony which he considers, "in all respects, the most interesting natural-history fact of the present century." He writes: "Captain the Hon. George Hope states that when in H.M.S. 'Fly,' in the Gulf of California, the sea being perfectly calm and transparent, he saw at the bottom a large marine animal with the head and general figure of the alligator, except that the neck was much longer, and that instead of legs the creature had four large flappers, somewhat like those of turtles, the anterior pair being larger than the posterior; the creature was distinctly visible, and all its movements could be observed with ease; it appeared to be pursuing its prey at the bottom of the sea; its movements were somewhat serpentine, and an appearance of annulations, or ring-like divisions of the body, was distinctly perceptible. Captain Hope made this relation in company, and as a matter of conversation. When I heard it from the gentleman to whom it was narrated, I enquired whether Captain Hope was acquainted with those remarkable fossil animals _Ichthyosauri_ and _Plesiosauri_, the supposed forms of which so nearly correspond with what he describes as having seen alive, and I cannot find that he had heard of them; the alligator being the only animal he mentioned as bearing a partial similarity to the creature in question." Unfortunately, the estimated dimensions of this creature are not given. That negative evidence alone is an unsafe basis for argument against the existence of unknown animals, the following illustrations will show: During the deep-sea dredgings of H.M.S. _Lightning_, _Porcupine_, and _Challenger_, many new species of mollusca, and others which had been supposed to have been extinct ever since the chalk epoch, were brought to light; and by the deep-sea trawlings of the last-mentioned ship, there have been brought up from great depths fishes of unknown species, and which could not exist near the surface, owing to the distension and rupture of their air-bladder when removed from the pressure of deep water. Mr. Gosse mentions that the ship in which he made the voyage to Jamaica was surrounded in the North Atlantic, for seventeen continuous hours by a troop of whales of large size of an undescribed species, which on no other occasion has fallen under scientific observation. Unique specimens of other cetaceans are also recorded. We have evidence, to which attention has been directed by Mr. A. D. Bartlett, that, "even on land there exists at least one of the largest mammals, probably in thousands, of which only one individual has been brought to notice, namely, the hairy-eared, two horned rhinoceros (_R. lasiotis_), now in the Zoological Gardens, London. It was captured in 1868, at Chittagong, in India, where for years collectors and naturalists have worked and published lists of the animals met with, and yet no knowledge of this great beast was ever before obtained, nor is there any portion of one in any museum. It remains unique." I arrive, then, at the following conclusions: 1st. That, without straining resemblances, or casting a doubt upon narratives not proved to be erroneous, the various appearances of the supposed "Great Sea-serpent" may now be nearly all accounted for by the forms and habits of known animals; especially if we admit, as proposed by Dr. Andrew Wilson, that some of them, including the marine snakes, may, like the cuttles, attain to an extraordinary size. 2nd. That to assume that naturalists have perfect cognizance of every existing marine animal of large size, would be quite unwarrantable. It appears to me more than probable that many marine animals, unknown to science, and some of them of gigantic size, may have their ordinary habitat in the great depths of the sea, and only occasionally come to the surface; and I think it not impossible that amongst them may be marine snakes of greater dimensions than we are aware of, and even a creature having close affinities with the old sea-reptiles whose fossil skeletons tell of their magnitude and abundance in past ages. It is most desirable that every supposed appearance of the "Great Sea-serpent" shall be faithfully noted and described; and I hope that no truthful observer will be deterred from reporting such an occurrence by fear of the disbelief of naturalists, or the ridicule of witlings. FINIS. LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. [Illustration: A MERMAID. _From a Picture by Otto Sinding._] _International Fisheries Exhibition_ LONDON, 1883 SEA FABLES EXPLAINED BY HENRY LEE, F.L.S., F.G.S., F.Z.S. SOMETIME NATURALIST OF THE BRIGHTON AQUARIUM AND AUTHOR OF 'THE OCTOPUS, OR THE DEVIL-FISH OF FICTION AND FACT;' 'SEA MONSTERS UNMASKED,' ETC. ILLUSTRATED LONDON WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED INTERNATIONAL FISHERIES EXHIBITION AND 13 CHARING CROSS, S.W. 1883 LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. PREFACE. The little book 'Sea Monsters Unmasked,' recently issued as one of the Handbooks in connection with the Great International Fisheries Exhibition has met with so favourable a reception, that I have been honoured by the request to continue the subject, and to treat also of some of the Fables of the Sea, which once were universally believed, and even now are not utterly extinct. The topic is not here exhausted. Other sea fables and fallacies might be mentioned and explained; but the amount of letter-press, and the number of illustrations that can be printed without loss for the small sum of one shilling--the price at which these Handbooks are uniformly published--is necessarily limited. I have, therefore, thought it better to endeavour to make each chapter as complete as possible than to crowd into the space allotted to me a greater variety of subjects less fully and carefully discussed. I have the pleasure of acknowledging the kind assistance I have again received in the matter of illustrations. I gratefully appreciate Mr. Murray's permission to use the woodcut of Hercules slaying the Hydra, taken from Smith's 'Classical Dictionary,' and those of the golden ornaments found by Dr. Schliemann at Mycenæ, and figured in the very interesting book in which his excavations there are described. I have also to thank the proprietors of the _Illustrated London News_, the _Leisure Hour_, and _Land and Water_, for the use of illustrations especially mentioned in the text. HENRY LEE. SAVAGE CLUB; _Sept. 4th, 1883_. CONTENTS. PAGE THE MERMAID 1 THE LERNEAN HYDRA 48 SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 59 THE "SPOUTING" OF WHALES 62 THE "SAILING" OF THE NAUTILUS 76 BARNACLE GEESE--GOOSE BARNACLES 98 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FIG. PAGE A MERMAID. _From a picture by Otto Sinding_ _Frontispiece_ 1. NOAH, HIS WIFE AND THREE SONS, AS FISH-TAILED DEITIES. 2 _From a gem in the Florentine Gallery. After Calmet_ 2. HEA, OR NOAH, THE GOD OF THE FLOOD. _Khorsabad_ 3 3. DAGON. _From a bas-relief. Nimroud_ 4 4. DAGON: HALF MAN, HALF FISH. _From Lamy's 'Apparatus 5 Biblicus'_ 5. DAGON. _From an agate signet. Nineveh_ " 6. FISH AVATAR OF VISHNU. _After Calmet and Maurice_ 6 7. ATERGATIS, THE GODDESS OF THE SYRIANS. _From a 8 Phoenician Coin_ 8. VENUS RISING FROM THE SEA, SUPPORTED BY TRITONS. _After 9 Calmet_ 9. VENUS DRAWN IN HER CHARIOT BY TRITONS. _From two 10 Corinthian Coins_ 10. DITTO. 11 11. SEAL, DRAWN AS A FISH. _From the Catacombs at Rome_ " 12. MERMAID AND FISHES OF AMBOYNA. _After Valentyn_ 17 13. A JAPANESE ARTIFICIAL MERMAID 27 14. AN ARTIFICIAL MERMAID. _Probably Japanese_ 28 15. PORTRAIT OF A MERMAID SAID TO HAVE BEEN CAPTURED IN JAPAN 29 16. THE DUGONG. _From Sir J. Emerson Tennent's 'Ceylon'_ 43 17. THE MANATEE 45 18. FIGURE OF A CALAMARY, FROM THE TEMPLE OF BAYR-EL-BAHREE 50 19. FIGURE OF AN OCTOPUS ON A GOLD ORNAMENT FOUND BY DR. 51 SCHLIEMANN AT MYCENÆ 20. DITTO. 52 21. DITTO. 53 22. DITTO. " 23. HERCULES SLAYING THE LERNEAN HYDRA 57 24. THE PHYSETER INUNDATING A SHIP. _After Olaus Magnus_ 64 25. A WHALE POURING WATER INTO A SHIP FROM ITS BLOW-HOLE. 64 _After Olaus Magnus_ 26. SPERM WHALES "SPOUTING" 65 27. THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) SAILING 76 28. DITTO. RETRACTED WITHIN ITS SHELL 81 29. DITTO. CRAWLING 86 30. DITTO. SWIMMING 87 31. SHELL OF THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) 88 32. SHELL OF THE PEARLY NAUTILUS (_Nautilus pompilius_) 89 33. THE PEARLY NAUTILUS (_Nautilus Pompilius_) AND SECTION OF 90 ITS SHELL 34. THE GOOSE-TREE. _From Gerard's 'Herball'_ 104 35. DITTO. _Fac-simile from Aldrovandus_ 110 36. DEVELOPMENT OF BARNACLES INTO GEESE. _Fac-simile from 111 Aldrovandus_ 37. SECTION OF A SESSILE BARNACLE. _Balanus tintinnabulum_ 113 38. PEDUNCULATED BARNACLE. _Lepas anatifera_ 115 39. A SHIP'S FIGURE-HEAD PARTLY COVERED WITH BARNACLES 116 40. WHALE BARNACLE. _Coronula diadema_ 117 41. A YOUNG BARNACLE. _Larva of Chthamalus stellatus_ 118 SEA FABLES EXPLAINED. THE MERMAID. Next to the pleasure which the earnest zoologist derives from study of the habits and structure of living animals, and his intelligent appreciation of their perfect adaptation to their modes of life, and the circumstances in which they are placed, is the interest he feels in eliminating fiction from truth, whilst comparing the fancies of the past with the facts of the present. As his knowledge increases, he learns that the descriptions by ancient writers of so-called "fabulous creatures" are rather distorted portraits than invented falsehoods, and that there is hardly one of the monsters of old which has not its prototype in Nature at the present day. The idea of the Lernean Hydra, whose heads grew again when cut off by Hercules, originated, as I have shown in another chapter, in a knowledge of the octopus; and in the form and movements of other animals with which we are now familiar we may, in like manner, recognise the similitude and archetype of the mermaid. But we must search deeply into the history of mankind to discover the real source of a belief that has prevailed in almost all ages, and in all parts of the world, in the existence of a race of beings uniting the form of man with that of the fish. A rude resemblance between these creatures of imagination and tradition and certain aquatic animals is not sufficient to account for that belief. It probably had its origin in ancient mythologies, and in the sculptures and pictures connected with them, which were designed to represent certain attributes of the deities of various nations. In the course of time the meaning of these was lost; and subsequent generations regarded as the portraits of existing beings effigies which were at first intended to be merely emblematic and symbolical. [Illustration: FIG. 1.--NOAH, HIS WIFE, AND THREE SONS, AS FISH-TAILED DEITIES. _From a Gem in the Florentine Gallery. After Calmet._] Early idolatry consisted, first, in separating the idea of the One Divinity into that of his various attributes, and of inventing symbols and making images of each separately; secondly, in the worship of the sun, moon, stars, and planets, as living existences; thirdly, in the deification of ancestors and early kings; and these three forms were often mingled together in strange and tangled confusion. Amongst the famous personages with whose history men were made acquainted by oral tradition was Noah. He was known as the second father of the human race, and the preserver and teacher of the arts and sciences as they existed before the Great Deluge, of which so many separate traditions exist among the various races of mankind. Consequently, he was an object of worship in many countries and under many names; and his wife and sons, as his assistants in the diffusion of knowledge, were sometimes associated with him. According to Berosus, of Babylon,--the Chaldean priest and astronomer, who extracted from the sacred books of "that great city" much interesting ancient lore, which he introduced into his 'History of Syria,' written, about B.C. 260, for the use of the Greeks,--at a time when men were sunk in barbarism, there came up from the Erythrean Sea (the Persian Gulf), and landed on the Babylonian shore, a creature named Oannes, which had the body and head of a fish. But above the fish's head was the head of a man, and below the tail of the fish were human feet. It had also human arms, a human voice, and human language. This strange monster sojourned among the rude people during the day, taking no food, but retiring to the sea at night; and it continued for some time thus to visit them, teaching them the arts of civilized life, and instructing them in science and religion.[34] [34] Berosus, lib. i. p. 48. [Illustration: FIG. 2.--HEA, OR NOAH, THE GOD OF THE FLOOD. _Khorsabad._] In this tale we have a distorted account of the life and occupation of Noah after his escape from the deluge which destroyed his home and drowned his neighbours. Oannes was one of the names under which he was worshipped in Chaldea, at Erech ("the place of the ark"), as the sacred and intelligent fish-god, the teacher of mankind, the god of science and knowledge. There he was also called Oes, Hoa, Ea, Ana, Anu, Aun, and Oan. Noah was worshipped, also, in Syria and Mesopotamia, and in Egypt, at "populous No,"[35] or Thebes--so named from "Theba," "the ark." [35] Nahum iii. 8. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--DAGON. _From a bas relief. Nimroud._] The history of the coffin of Osiris is another version of Noah's ark, and the period during which that Egyptian divinity is said to have been shut up in it, after it was set afloat upon the waters, was precisely the same as that during which Noah remained in the ark. Dagon, also--sometimes called Odacon--the great fish-god of the Philistines and Babylonians, was another phase of Oannes. "Dag," in Hebrew, signifies "a male fish," and "Aun" and "Oan" were two of the names of Noah. "Dag-aun" or "Dag-oan" therefore means "the fish Noah." He was portrayed in two ways. The more ancient image of him was that of a man issuing from a fish, as described of Oannes by Berosus; but in later times it was varied to that of a man whose upper half was human, and the lower parts those of a fish. The image of Dagon which fell upon its face to the ground before "the ark of the God of Israel," was probably of this latter form, for we read[36] that in its fall, "the head of Dagon and both the palms of his hands were cut off upon the threshold: only the _stump_ (in the margin, "_the fishy part_") of Dagon was left to him." This was evidently Milton's conception of him: "Dagon his name; sea-monster, upward man And downward fish."[37] [36] 1 Samuel v. 4. [37] 'Paradise Lost,' Book i. l. 462. [Illustration: FIG. 4.--DAGON. _After Calmet._] [Illustration: FIG. 5.--DAGON. _From an Agate Signet. Nineveh._] In some of the Nineveh sculptures of the fish-god, the head of the fish forms a kind of mitre on the head of the man, whilst the body of the fish appears as a cloak or cape over his shoulders and back. The fish varies in length; in some cases the tail almost touches the ground; in others it reaches but little below the man's waist. [Illustration: FIG. 6.--FISH AVATAR OF VISHNU. _After Calmet and Maurice._] In one of his "avatars," or incarnations, the god Vishnu "the Preserver," is represented as issuing from the mouth of a fish. He is celebrated as having miraculously preserved one righteous family, and, also, the Vedas, the sacred records, when the world was drowned. Not only is this legend of the Indian god wrought up with the history of Noah, but Vishnu and Noah bear the same name--Vishnu being the Sanscrit form of "Ish-nuh," "the man Noah." The word "avatar" also means "out of the boat." In fact the whole mythology of Greece and Rome, as well as of Asia, is full of the history and deeds of Noah, which it is impossible to misunderstand. In all the representations of a deity having a combined human and piscine form, the original idea was that of a person coming out of a fish--not being part of one, but issuing from it, as Noah issued from the ark. In all of them the fish denoted "preservation," "fecundity," "plenty," and "diffusion of knowledge."[38] As the image was not the effigy of a divine personage, but symbolized certain attributes of Divinity, its sex was comparatively unimportant, although it is possible that, combined with the fecundity of the fish, the idea of Noah's wife, as the second mother of all subsequent generations, according to the widely-spread and accepted traditions of the deluge, may have influenced the impersonation. [38] Some writers are of the opinion that the legend of Oannes contains an allusion to the rising and setting of the sun, and that his semi-piscine form was the expression of the idea that half his time was spent above ground, and half below the waves. The same commentators also regard all the "civilizing" gods and goddesses as, respectively, solar and lunar deities. The attributes symbolized in the worship of Noah and the sun are so nearly alike that the two interpretations are not incompatible. Atergatis, the far-famed goddess of the Syrians, was also a fish-divinity. Her image, like that of Dagon, had at first a fish's body with human extremities protruding from it; but in the course of centuries it was gradually altered to that of a being the upper portion of whose body was that of a woman and the lower half that of a fish. Gatis was a powerful queen of Sidon, and mother of Semiramis. She received the title of "Ater," or "Ader," "the Great," for the benefits she conferred on her people; one of these benefits being a strict conservation of their fisheries, both from their own imprudent use, and from foreign interference. She issued an edict that no fish should be eaten without her consent, and that no one should take fish in the neighbouring sea without a licence from herself. It is not improbable that she and her celebrated daughter, who is said by Ovid and others to have been the builder of the walls of Babylon, were worshipped together; for that Atergatis was the same as the fish-goddess Ashteroth, or Ashtoreth, "the builder of the encompassing wall," we have, amongst other proofs, a remarkable one in Biblical history. In the first book of Maccabees v. 43, 44, we read that "all the heathen being discomfited before him (Judas Maccabeus) cast away their weapons, and fled unto the temple that was at _Carnaim_. But they took the city, and burned the temple with all that were therein. Thus was _Carnaim_ subdued, neither could they stand any longer before Judas." In the second book of Maccabees xii. 26, we are told that "Maccabeus marched forth to _Carnion_, and to the temple of _Atargatis_, and there he slew five and twenty thousand persons." In Genesis xiv. 5, this city and temple are referred to as "_Ashteroth Karnaim_." Fig. 7 is a representation of Atergatis on a medal coined at Marseilles. It shows that when the Phoenician colony from Syria, by whom that city was founded, settled there, they brought with them the worship of the gods of their country. [Illustration: FIG. 7.--ATERGATIS. _From a Phoenician coin._] Atergatis was worshipped by the Greeks as Derceto and Astarte. Lucian writes[39]:--"In Phoenicia I saw the image of Derceto, a strange sight, truly! For she had the half of a woman, and from the thighs downwards a fish's tail." Diodorus Siculus describes (lib. ii.) the same deity, as represented at Ascalon, as "having the face of a woman, but all the rest of the body a fish's." And this very same image at Ascalon, which Diodorus calls Derceto, or Atergatis, is denominated by Herodotus[40] "the celestial Aphrodite," who was identical with the Cyprian and Roman Venus. Of all the sacred buildings erected to the goddess, this temple was by far the most ancient; and the Cyprians themselves acknowledged that their temple was built after the model of it by certain Phoenicians who came from that part of Syria. [39] 'Opera Omnia,' tom. ii. p. 884, edit. Bened. de Dea. Syr. [40] Lib. i. cap. cv. [Illustration: FIG. 8.--VENUS RISING FROM THE SEA, SUPPORTED BY TRITONS. _After Calmet._] Thus the worship of Noah, as the second father of mankind, the repopulator of the earth, passed through various phases and transformations till it merged in that of Venus, who rose from the sea, and was regarded as the representative of the reproductive power of Nature--the goddess whom Lucretius thus addressed: "Blest Venus! Thou the sea and fruitful earth Peoplest amain; to thee whatever lives Its being owes, and that it sees the sun:" and to whom refers the passage in the Orphic hymn: "From thee are all things--all things thou producest Which are in heaven, or in the fertile earth, Or in the sea, or in the great abyss." Under this latter phase--the impersonation of Venus--the fish portion of the body was discarded, and the cast-off form was allotted in popular credence to the Tritons--minor deities, who acknowledged the supremacy of the goddess, and were ready to render her homage and service by bearing her in their arms, drawing her chariot, etc., but who still possessed considerable power as sea-gods, and could calm the waves and rule the storm, at pleasure. [Illustration: FIG. 9. FIG. 10. VENUS DRAWN IN HER CHARIOT BY TRITONS. _From two Corinthian coins._] Figs. 9 and 10 are from two Corinthian medals, each shewing Venus in a car or chariot drawn by Tritons, one male, the other female. On the obverse of Fig. 9, is the head of Nero, and on that of Fig. 10, the head of his grandmother Agrippina.[41] [41] It is worthy of note that the fish was also adopted as an emblem by the early Christians, and was frequently sculptured on their tombs as a private mark or sign of the faith in which the person there interred had died. It alluded to the letters which composed the Greek word [Greek: Ichthys] ("a fish") forming an anagram, the initials of words which conveyed the following sentiment: [Greek: Iêsous], Jesus; [Greek: Christos], Christ; [Greek: Theou], of God; [Greek: gios], Son; [Greek: Sôtêr], Saviour. But it doubtless bore, also, the older meaning of "preservation" and "reproduction," of which the fish was the symbol, and betokened a belief in a future resurrection, as Noah was preserved to dwell in, and populate, a new world. In 'Sea Monsters Unmasked,' page 55, I gave a figure, copied by permission from the _Illustrated London News_, of a rough sculpture in the Roman catacombs, of Jonah being disgorged by a sea-monster. Near to it was found, on another Christian tomb, one of these designs of the "fish;" and it is not a little curious that, whereas the animal depicted as casting forth Jonah is not a whale, but a sea-serpent, or dragon, the _ichtheus_ in this instance is apparently not a fish, but a seal. [Illustration: FIG. 11.--CHRISTIAN SYMBOL. _From the Catacombs at Rome._] The article referred to appeared in the _Illustrated London News_ of February 3rd, 1872, and the woodcut (fig. 11), an electrotype of which was most kindly presented to me by the proprietors of that paper, was one of the sketches that accompanied it. From the very earliest period of history, then, the conjoined human and fish form was known to every generation of men. It was presented to their sight in childhood by sculptures and pictures, and was a conspicuous object in their religious worship. By the lapse of time its original import was lost and debased; and, from being an emblem and symbol, it came to be accepted as the corporeal shape and structure of actually-existent sea-deities, who might present themselves to the view of the mariner, in visible and tangible form, at any moment. Thus were men trained and prepared to believe in mermen and mermaids, to expect to meet with them at sea, and to recognise as one of them any animal the appearance and movements of which could possibly be brought into conformity with their pre-conceived ideas. Accordingly, and very naturally, we find that from north to south this belief has been entertained. Megasthenes, who was a contemporary of Aristotle, but his junior, and whose geographical work was probably written at about the period of the great philosopher's death, reported that the sea which surrounded Taprobana, the ancient Ceylon, was inhabited by creatures having the appearance of women. Ælian stated that there were "whales," or "great fishes," having the form of satyrs. The early Portuguese settlers in India asserted that true mermen were found in the Eastern seas, and old Norse legends tell of submarine beings of conjoined human and piscine form, who dwell in a wide territory far below the region of the fishes, over which the sea, like the cloudy canopy of our sky, loftily rolls, and some of whom have, from time to time, landed on Scandinavian shores, exchanged their fishy extremities for human limbs, and acquired amphibious habits. Not only have poets sung of the wondrous and seductive beauty of the maidens of these aquatic tribes, but many a Jack tar has come home from sea prepared to affirm on oath that he has seen a mermaid. To the best of his belief he has told the truth. He has seen some living being which looked wonderfully human, and his imagination, aided by an inherited superstition, has supplied the rest. Before endeavouring to identify the object of his delusion, it may be well to mention a few instances of the supposed appearance of mermen and mermaidens in various localities. Pliny writes[42]: "When Tiberius was emperor, an embassy was sent to him from Olysippo (Lisbon) expressly to inform him that a Triton, which was recognised as such by its form, had shown itself in a certain cave, and had been heard to produce loud sounds on a conch-shell. The Nereid, also, is not imaginary: its body is rough and covered with scales, but it has the appearance of a human being. For one was seen upon the same coast; and when it was dying those dwelling near at hand heard it moaning sadly for a long time. And the Governor of Gaul wrote to the divine Augustus that several Nereids had been found dead upon the shore. I have many informants--illustrious persons in high positions--who have assured me that they saw in the Sea of Cadiz a merman whose whole body was exactly like that of a man, that these mermen mount on board ships by night, and weigh down that end of the vessel on which they rest, and that if they are allowed to remain there long they will sink the ship." [42] _Naturalis Historia_, Lib. ix. cap. v. Ælian in one of his short, jerky, disconnected chapters,[43] which rarely exceed a page in length, and some of which only contain two lines, writes: "It is reported that the great sea which surrounds the island of Taprobana (Ceylon) contains an immense multitude of fishes and whales, and some of them have the heads of lions, panthers, rams, and other animals; and (which is more wonderful still) some of the cetaceans have the form of satyrs. There are others which have the face of a woman, but prickles instead of hair. In addition to these, it is said there are other creatures of so strange and monstrous a kind that it would be impossible exactly to explain their appearance without the aid of a skilfully drawn picture: these have elongated and coiled tails, and, for feet, have claws[44] or fins. And I hear that in the same sea there are great amphibious beasts which are gregarious, and live on grain, and by night feed on the corn crops and grass, and are also very fond of the ripe fruit of the palms. To obtain these they encircle in their embrace the trees which are young and flexible, and, shaking them violently, enjoy the fruit which they thus cause to fall. When morning dawns they return to the sea, and plunge beneath the waves." [43] _De Naturâ Animalium_, Lib. xvi. cap. xviii. [44] "_Forfices_," literally "shears," or "nippers," like the claws of a lobster. Ælian seems to have derived this information from Megasthenes, already referred to; but in another chapter,[45] he writes with greater certainty concerning these semi-human whales, and claims divine authority for his belief in the existence of tritons. "Although," he says, "we have no rational explanation nor absolute proof of that which fishermen are said to be able to affirm concerning the form of the tritons, we have the sworn testimony of many persons that there are in the sea cetaceans which from the head down to the middle of the body resemble the human species. Demostratus, in his works on fishing, says that an aged triton was seen near the town of Tanagra, in Boeotia, which was like the drawings and pictures of tritons, but its features were so obscured by age, and it disappeared so quickly, that its true character was not easily perceptible. But on the spot where it had rested on the shore were found some rough and very hard scales which had become detached from it. A certain senator--one of those selected by lot to carry on the administration of Achaia and the duties of the annual magistracy" (the mayor, in fact,) "being anxious to investigate the nature of this triton, put a portion of its skin on the fire. It gave out a most horrible odour; and those standing by were unable to decide whether it belonged to a terrestrial or marine animal. But the magistrate's curiosity had an evil ending, for very soon afterwards, whilst crossing a narrow creek in a boat, he fell overboard and was drowned; and the Tanagreans all regarded this as a judgment upon him for his crime of impiety towards the triton--an interpretation which was confirmed when his decomposing body was cast ashore, for it emitted exactly the same odour as had the burned skin of the triton. The Tanagreans and Demostratus explain whence the triton had strayed, and how it was stranded in this place. I believe," continues Ælian, "that tritons exist, and I reverentially produce as my witness a most veracious god--namely, Apollo Didymæus, whom no man in his senses would presume to regard as unworthy of credit. He sings thus of the triton, which he calls the sheep of the sea: [45] Lib. xiii. cap. xxi. '_Dum vocale maris monstrum natat æquore triton, Neptuni pecus, in funes forte incidit extra Demissos navim_';" which I venture to translate as follows: A triton, vocal monster of the deep, One of a flock of Neptune's scaly sheep, Was caught, whilst swimming o'er the watery plain, By lines which fishers from their boat had lain. "Therefore," Ælian concludes, "if he, the omniscient god, pronounces that there are tritons, it does not behove us to doubt their existence." Sir J. Emerson Tennent, in his 'Natural History of Ceylon,' quoting from the _Histoire de la Compagnie de Jésus_, mentions that the annalist of the exploits of the Jesuits in India gravely records that seven of these monsters, male and female, were captured at Manaar, in 1560, and carried to Goa, where they were dissected by Demas Bosquez, physician to the Viceroy, "and their internal structure found to be in all respects conformable to the human." He also quotes Valentyn, one of the Dutch colonial chaplains, who, in his account of the Natural History of Amboyna,[46] embodied in his great work on the Netherlands' possessions in India, published in 1727,[47] devoted the first section of his chapter on the fishes of that island to a minute description of the "Zee-Menschen," "Zee-Wyven," and mermaids, the existence of which he warmly insists on as being beyond cavil. He relates that in 1663, when a lieutenant in the Dutch service was leading a party of soldiers along the sea-shore in Amboyna, he and all his company saw the mermen swimming at a short distance from the beach. They had long and flowing hair of a colour between grey and green. Six weeks afterwards the creatures were again seen by him and more than fifty witnesses, at the same place, by clear daylight. "If any narrative in the world," adds Valentyn, "deserves credit it is this; since not only one, but two mermen together were seen by so many eye-witnesses. Should the stubborn world, however, hesitate to believe it, it matters nothing, as there are people who would even deny that such cities as Rome, Constantinople, or Cairo, exist, merely because they themselves have not happened to see them. But what are such incredulous persons," he continues, "to make of the circumstance recorded by Albrecht Herport[48] in his account of India, that a merman was seen in the water near the church of Taquan on the morning of the 29th of April, 1661, and a mermaid at the same spot the same afternoon? Or what do they say to the fact that in 1714 a mermaid was not only seen but captured near the island of Booro, five feet, Rhineland measure, in height; which lived four days and seven hours, but, refusing all food, died without leaving any intelligible account of herself?" Valentyn, in support of his own faith in the mermaid, cites many other instances in which both "sea-men and sea-women" were seen and taken at Amboyna; especially one by a district visitor of the church, who presented it to the Governor Vanderstel. Of this "well-authenticated" specimen he gives an elaborate portrait amongst the fishes of the island,[49] with a minute description of each for the satisfaction of men of science. [Illustration: FIG. 12.--MERMAID AND FISHES OF AMBOYNA. _After Valentyn._] [46] One of the Dutch spice-islands in the Banda Sea, between Celebes and Papua. [47] _Beschrijving van Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien_, etc., 5 vols. folio, Dordrecht and Amsterdam, 1727, vol. iii. p. 330. [48] _Itinerarium Indicum_, Berne, 1669. [49] With the permission and assistance of Messrs. Longman, the accompanying wood-cut of this picture, and that of the Dugong, on page 43, are copied from Sir J. Emerson Tennent's book published in 1861. The fame of this creature having reached Europe, the British minister in Holland wrote to Valentyn on the 28th of December, 1716, whilst the Emperor Peter the Great, of Russia, was his guest at Amsterdam, to communicate the desire of the Czar that the mermaid should be brought home from Amboyna for his inspection. To complete his proofs of the existence of mermen and merwomen, Valentyn points triumphantly to the historical fact that in Holland, in the year 1404, a mermaid was driven, during a tempest, through a breach in the dyke of Edam, and was taken alive in the lake of Purmer. Thence she was carried to Haarlem, where the Dutch women taught her to spin, and where several years after, she died in the Roman Catholic faith;--"but this," says the pious Calvinistic chaplain, "in no way militates against the truth of her story." The worthy minister citing the authority of various writers as proof that mermaids had in all ages been known in Gaul, Naples, Epirus, and the Morea, comes to the conclusion that as there are "sea-cows," "sea-horses," "sea-dogs," as well as "sea-trees," and "sea-flowers," which he himself had seen, there are no reasonable grounds for doubt that there may also be "sea-maidens" and "sea-men." In an early account of Newfoundland,[50] Whitbourne describes a "maremaid or mareman," which he had seen "within the length of a pike," and which "came swimming swiftly towards him, looking cheerfully on his face, as it had been a woman. By the face, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, ears, neck and forehead, it appeared to be so beautiful, and in those parts so well proportioned, having round about the head many blue streaks resembling hair, but certainly it was no hair. The shoulders and back down to the middle were square, white, and smooth as the back of a man, and from the middle to the end it tapered like a broad-hooked arrow." The animal put both its paws on the side of the boat wherein its observer sat, and strove much to get in, but was repelled by a blow. [50] Whitbourne's 'Discourse of Newfoundland.' In 1676, a description was given by an English surgeon named Glover, of an animal of this kind. The author did not designate it by any name, but the incident has the honour of being recorded in the _Philosophical Transactions_.[51] About three leagues from the mouth of the river Rappahannock, in America, while alone in a vessel, he observed, at the distance of about half a stone-throw, he says, "a most prodigious creature, much resembling a man, only somewhat larger, standing right up in the water, with his head, neck, shoulders, breast and waist, to the cubits of his arms, above water, and his skin was tawny, much like that of an Indian; the figure of his head was pyramidal and sleek, without hair; his eyes large and black, and so were his eyebrows; his mouth very wide, with a broad black streak on the upper lip, which turned upwards at each end like mustachios. His countenance was grim and terrible. His neck, shoulders, arms, breast and waist, were like unto the neck, arms, shoulders, breast and waist of a man. His hands, if he had any, were under water. He seemed to stand with his eyes fixed on me for some time, and afterwards dived down, and, a little after, rose at somewhat a greater distance, and turned his head towards me again, and then immediately fell a little under water, that I could discern him throw out his arms and gather them in as a man does when he swims. At last, he shot with his head downwards, by which means he cast his tail above the water, which exactly resembled the tail of a fish, with a broad fane at the end of it." [51] Glover's 'Account of Virginia,' ap. Phil. Trans. vol. xi. p. 625. Thormodus Torfæus[52] maintains that mermaids are found on the south coast of Iceland, and, according to Olafsen,[53] two have been taken in the surrounding seas, the first in the earlier part of the history of that island, and the second in 1733. The latter was found in the stomach of a shark. Its lower parts were consumed, but the upper were entire. They were as large as those of a boy eight or nine years old. Both the cutting teeth and grinders were long and shaped like pins, and the fingers were connected by a large web. Olafsen was inclined to believe that these were human remains, but the islanders all firmly maintained that they were part of "a marmennill," by which name the mermaid is known among them. [52] _Historia rerum Norvegicarum._ [53] _Voyage en Islande_, tom. iii. p. 223. Of course the worthy bishop of Bergen, Pontoppidan, has something to tell us about mermaids in his part of the world. "Amongst the sea monsters," he says,[54] "which are in the North Sea, and are often seen, I shall give the first place to the Hav-manden, or merman, whose mate is called Hav-fruen, or mermaid. The existence of this creature is questioned by many, nor is it at all to be wondered at, because most of the accounts we have had of it are mixed with mere fables, and may be looked upon as idle tales." As such he regards the story told by Jonas Ramus in his 'History of Norway,' of a mermaid taken by fishermen at Hordeland, near Bergen, and which is said to have sung an unmusical song to King Hiorlief. In the same category he places an account given by Besenius in his life of Frederic II. (1577), of a mermaid that called herself Isbrandt, and held several conversations with a peasant at Samsoe, in which she foretold the birth of King Christian IV., "and made the peasant preach repentance to the courtiers, who were very much given to drunkenness." Equally "idle" with the above stories is, in his opinion, another, extracted from an old manuscript still to be seen in the University Library at Copenhagen, and quoted by Andrew Bussæus (1619), of a merman caught by the two senators, Ulf Rosensparre and Christian Holch, whilst on their voyage home to Denmark from Norway. This sea-man frightened the two worshipful gentlemen so terribly that they were glad to let him go again; for as he lay upon the deck he spoke Danish to them, and threatened that if they did not give him his liberty "the ship should be cast away, and every soul of the crew should perish." [54] 'Natural History of Norway,' vol. ii. p. 190. "When such fictions as these," says Pontoppidan, "are mixed with the history of the merman, and when that creature is represented as a prophet and an orator; when they give the mermaid a melodious voice, and tell us that she is a fine singer, we need not wonder that so few people of sense will give credit to such absurdities, or that they even doubt the existence of such a creature." The good prelate, however, goes on to say that "whilst we have no ground to believe all these fables, yet, as to the existence of the creature we may safely give our assent to it," and, "if this be called in question, it must proceed entirely from the fabulous stories usually mixed with the truth." Like Valentyn, he argues that as there are "sea-horses," "sea-cows," "sea-wolves," "sea-dogs," "sea-hogs," etc., it is probable from analogy, that "we should find in the ocean a fish or creature which resembles the human species more than any other." As for the objection "founded on self-love and respect to our own species which is honoured with the image of God, who made man lord of all creatures, and that, consequently, we may suppose he is entitled to a noble and heavenly form which other creatures must not partake of," he thinks "its force vanishes when we consider the form of apes, and especially of another African creature called 'Quoyas Morrov' described by Odoard Dapper" in his work on Africa, and which appears to have been a chimpanzee. Pontoppidan regarded it as being the Satyr of the ancients. He therefore claims that "if we will not allow our Norwegian Hastromber the honourable name of merman, we may very well call it the 'Sea-ape,' or the 'Sea-Quoyas-Morrov;'" especially as the author already quoted says that, "in the Sea of Angola mermaids are frequently caught which resemble the human species. They are taken in nets, and killed by the negroes, and are heard to shriek and cry like women." The Bishop adds that in the diocese of Bergen, as well as in the manor of Nordland, there were hundreds of persons who affirmed with the strongest assurances that they had seen this kind of creature; sometimes at a distance and at other times quite close to their boats, standing upright, and formed like a human creature down to the middle--the rest they could not see--but of those who had seen them out of water and handled them he had not been able to find more than one person of credit who could vouch it for truth. This informant, "the Reverend Mr. Peter Angel, minister of Vand-Elvens Gield, on Suderoe," assured his bishop, when he was on a visitation journey, that "in the year 1719, he (being then about twenty years old) saw what is called a merman lying dead on a point of land near the sea, which had been cast ashore by the waves along with several sea-calves (seals), and other dead fish. The length of this creature was much greater than what has been mentioned of any before, namely, above three fathoms. It was of a dark grey colour all over: in the lower part it was like a fish, and had a tail like that of a porpoise. The face resembled that of a man, with a mouth, forehead, eyes, etc. The nose was flat, and, as it were, pressed down to the face, in which the nostrils were very visible. The breast was not far from the head; the arms seemed to hang to the side, to which they were joined by a thin skin, or membrane. The hands were, to all appearance, like the paws of a sea-calf. The back of this creature was very fat, and a great part of it was cut off, which, with the liver, yielded a large quantity of train-oil." The author then quotes a description by Luke Debes[55] of a mermaid seen in 1670 at Faroe, westward of Qualboe Eide, by many of the inhabitants, as also by others from different parts of Suderoe. She was close to the shore, and stood there for two hours and a half, and was up to her waist in water. She had long hairs on her head, which hung down to the surface of the water all round about her, and she held a fish in her right hand. [55] _Feroa Reserata_, or Description of the Faroe Islands. 8vo. Copenhagen, 1673. Pontoppidan mentions other instances of similar appearances, and says that the latest he had heard of was of a merman seen in Denmark on the 20th of September, 1723, by three ferrymen who, at some distance from the land, were towing a ship just arrived from the Baltic. Having caught sight of something which looked like a dead body floating on the water, they rowed towards it, and there, resting on their oars, allowed it to drift close to them. It sank, but immediately came to the surface again, and then they saw that it had the appearance of an old man, strong-limbed, and with broad shoulders, but his arms they could not see. His head was small in proportion to his body, and had short, curled, black hair, which did not reach below his ears; his eyes lay deep in his head, and he had a meagre and pinched face, with a black, coarse beard, that looked as if it had been cut. His skin was coarse, and very full of hair. He stood in the same place for half a quarter of an hour, and was seen above the water down to his breast: at last the men grew apprehensive of some danger, and began to retire; upon which the monster blew up his cheeks, and made a kind of roaring noise, and then dived under water, so that they did not see him any more. One of them, Peter Gunnersen, related (what the others did not observe) that this merman was, about the body and downwards, quite pointed, like a fish. This same Peter Gunnersen likewise deposed that "about twenty years before, as he was in a boat near Kulleor, the place where he was born, he saw a mermaid with long hair and large breasts." He and his two companions were, by command of the king, examined by the burgomaster of Elsineur, Andrew Bussæus, before the privy-councillor, Fridrich von Gram, and their testimony to the above effect was given on their respective oaths. Brave old Henry Hudson, the sturdy and renowned navigator, who thrice, in three successive years, gave battle to the northern ice, and was each time defeated in his endeavour to discover a north-west or north-east passage to China, though he stamped his name on the title-page of a mighty nation's history, records the following incident: "This evening (June 15th) one of our company, looking overboard, saw a mermaid, and, calling up some of the company to see her, one more of the crew came up, and by that time she was come close to the ship's side, looking earnestly on the men. A little after a sea came and overturned her. From the navel upward, her back and breasts were like a woman's, as they say that saw her; her body as big as one of us, her skin very white, and long hair hanging down behind, of colour black. In her going down they saw her tail, which was like the tail of a porpoise and speckled like a mackarel's. Their names that saw her were Thomas Hilles and Robert Rayner." Steller, who was a zoologist of some repute, reports having seen in Behrings Straits a strange animal, which he calls a "sea-ape," and in which one might almost recognise Pontoppidan's "Sea-Quoyas-Morrov." It was about five feet long, had sharp and erect ears and large eyes, and on its lips a kind of beard. Its body was thick and round, and it tapered to the tail, which was bifurcated, with the upper lobe longest. It was covered with thick hair, grey on the back, and red on the belly. No feet nor paws were visible. It was full of frolic, and sported in the manner of a monkey, swimming sometimes on one side of the ship and sometimes on the other. It often raised one-third of its body out of the water, and stood upright for a considerable time. It would frequently bring up a sea-plant, not unlike a bottle-gourd, which it would toss about and catch in its mouth, playing numberless fantastic tricks with it. Somewhat similar accounts have been brought from the Southern Hemisphere, two, at least, of which are worth transcribing. Captain Colnett, in his 'Voyage to the South Atlantic,' says:--"A very singular circumstance happened off the coast of Chili, in lat. 24° S., which spread some alarm amongst my people, and awakened their superstitious apprehensions. About 8 o'clock in the evening an animal rose alongside the ship, and uttered such shrieks and tones of lamentation, so much like those produced by the female human voice when expressing the deepest distress as to occasion no small degree of alarm among those who first heard it. These cries continued for upwards of three hours, and seemed to increase as the ship sailed from it. I never heard any noise whatever that approached so near those sounds which proceed from the organs of utterance in the human species." Captain Weddell, in his 'Voyage towards the South Pole' (p. 143), writes that one of his men, having been left ashore on Hall's Island to take care of some produce, heard one night about ten o'clock, after he had lain down to rest, a noise resembling human cries. As daylight does not disappear in those latitudes at the season in which the incident occurred, the sailor rose and searched along the beach, thinking that, possibly, a boat might have been upset, and that some of the crew might be clinging to the detached rocks. "Roused by that voice of silver sound, From the paved floor he lightly sprung, And, glaring with his eyes around, Where the fair nymph her tresses wrung,"[56] guided by occasional sounds, he at length saw an object lying on a rock a dozen yards from the shore, at which he was somewhat frightened. "The face and shoulders appeared of human form and of a reddish colour; over the shoulders hung long green hair; the tail resembled that of a seal, but the extremities of the arms he could not see distinctly." "As on the wond'ring youth she smiled, Again she raised the melting lay,"[56] [56] John Leyden. for the creature continued to make a musical noise during the two minutes he gazed at it, and, on perceiving him, disappeared in an instant. [Illustration: FIG. 13.--A JAPANESE ARTIFICIAL MERMAID.] The universality of the belief in an animal of combined human and fish-like form is very remarkable. That it exists amongst the Japanese we have evidence in their curious and ingeniously-constructed models which are occasionally brought to this country. I have one of these which is so exactly the counterpart of that which my friend Mr. Frank Buckland described, originally in _Land and Water_, and which forms the subject of a chapter in his 'Curiosities of Natural History,'[57] that the portrait of the one (Fig. 13) will equally well represent the other. The lower half of the body is made of the skin and scales of a fish of the carp family, and fastened on to this, so neatly that it is hardly possible to detect where the joint is made, is a wooden body, the ribs of which are so prominent that the poor mermaid has a miserable and half-starved appearance. The upper part of the body is in the attitude of a Sphinx, leaning upon its elbows and fore-arms. The arms are thin and scraggy, and the fingers attenuated and skeleton-like. The nails are formed of small pieces of ivory or bone. The head is like that of a small monkey, and a little wool covers the crown, so thinly and untidily that if the mermaid possessed a crystal mirror she would see the necessity for the vigorous use of her comb of pearl. The teeth are those of some fish--apparently of the cat-fish, (_Anarchicas lupus_). These Japanese artificial mermaids have brought many a dollar into the pockets of Mr. Barnum and other showmen. [57] Third Series, vol. ii. p. 134, 2nd ed. Somewhat different in appearance from this, but of the same kind, was an artificial mermaid described in the _Saturday Magazine_ of June 4th, 1836. Fig. 14 is a facsimile of the woodcut which accompanied it. This grotesque composition was exhibited in a glass case, some years previously, "in a leading street at the west end" of London. It was constructed "of the skin of the head and shoulders of a monkey, which was attached to the dried skin of a fish of the salmon kind with the head cut off, and the whole was stuffed and highly varnished, the better to deceive the eye." It was said to have been "taken by the crew of a Dutch vessel from on board a native Malacca boat, and from the reverence shown to it, it was supposed to be a representative of one of their idol gods." I am inclined to think that it was of Japanese origin. [Illustration: FIG. 14.--AN ARTIFICIAL MERMAID, PROBABLY JAPANESE.] Fig. 15 is described in the article above referred to as having been copied from a Japanese drawing, and as being a portrait of one of their deities. Its similarity to one of those of the Assyrians (Fig. 2, page 3) is remarkable. The inscription, however, does not indicate this. The Chinese characters in the centre--"_Nin giyo_"--signify "human fish;" those on the right in Japanese _Hira Kana_, or running-hand, have the same purport, and those on the left, in _Kata Kana_, the characters of the Japanese alphabet, mean "_Ichi hiru ike_"--"one day kept alive." The whole legend seems to pretend that this human fish was actually caught, and kept alive in water for twenty-four hours, but, as the box on which it is inscribed is one of those in which the Japanese showmen keep their toys, it was probably the subject of a "penny peep-show." We need not travel from our own country to find the belief in mermaids yet existing. It is still credited in the north of Scotland that they inhabit the neighbouring seas: and Dr. Robert Hamilton, F.R.S.E., writing in 1839, expressed emphatically his opinion that there was then as much ignorance on this subject as had prevailed at any former period.[58] [58] Naturalist's Library, Marine Amphibiæ, p. 291. [Illustration: FIG. 15.--A MERMAID. _From a Japanese picture._] In the year 1797, Mr. Munro, schoolmaster of Thurso, affirmed that he had seen "a figure like a naked female, sitting on a rock projecting into the sea, at Sandside Head, in the parish of Reay. Its head was covered with long, thick, light-brown hair, flowing down on the shoulders. The forehead was round, the face plump, and the cheeks ruddy. The mouth and lips resembled those of a human being, and the eyes were blue. The arms, fingers, breast, and abdomen were as large as those of a full-grown female," and, altogether, "That sea-nymph's form of pearly light Was whiter than the downy spray, And round her bosom, heaving bright, Her glossy yellow ringlets play."[59] [59] John Leyden. "This creature," continued Mr. Munro, "was apparently in the act of combing its hair with its fingers, which seemed to afford it pleasure, and it remained thus occupied during some minutes, when it dropped into the sea." The Dominie "saw the maiden there, Just as the daylight faded, Braiding her locks of gowden hair An' singing as she braided,"[60] [60] The Ettrick Shepherd. but he did not remark whether the fingers were webbed. On the whole, he infers that this was a marine animal of which he had a distinct and satisfactory view, and that the portion seen by him bore a narrow resemblance to the human form. But for the dangerous situation it had chosen, and its appearance among the waves, he would have supposed it to be a woman. Twelve years later, several persons observed near the same spot an animal which they also supposed to be a mermaid. A very remarkable story of this kind is one related by Dr. Robert Hamilton in the volume already referred to, and for the general truth of which he vouches, from his personal knowledge of some of the persons connected with the occurrence. In 1823 it was reported that some fishermen of Yell, one of the Shetland group, had captured a mermaid by its being entangled in their lines. The statement was that "the animal was about three feet long, the upper part of the body resembling the human, with protuberant mammæ, like a woman; the face, forehead, and neck were short, and resembled those of a monkey; the arms, which were small, were kept folded across the breast; the fingers were distinct, not webbed; a few stiff, long bristles were on the top of the head, extending down to the shoulders, and these it could erect and depress at pleasure, something like a crest. The inferior part of the body was like a fish. The skin was smooth, and of a grey colour. It offered no resistance, nor attempted to bite, but uttered a low, plaintive sound. The crew, six in number, took it within their boat, but, superstition getting the better of curiosity, they carefully disentangled it from the lines and a hook which had accidentally become fastened in its body, and returned it to its native element. It instantly dived, descending in a perpendicular direction." Mr. Edmonston, the original narrator of this incident, was "a well-known and intelligent observer," says Dr. Hamilton, and in a communication made by him to the Professor of Natural History in the Edinburgh University gave the following additional particulars, which he had learned from the skipper and one of the crew of the boat. "They had the animal for three hours within the boat: the body was without scales or hair; it was of a silvery grey colour above, and white below; it was like the human skin; no gills were observed, nor fins on the back or belly. The tail was like that of a dog-fish; the mammæ were about as large as those of a woman; the mouth and lips were very distinct, and resembled the human. Not one of the six men dreamed of a doubt of its being a mermaid, and it could not be suggested that they were influenced by their fears, for the mermaid is not an object of terror to fishermen: it is rather a welcome guest, and danger is apprehended from its experiencing bad treatment." Mr. Edmonston concludes by saying that "the usual resources of scepticism that the seals and other sea-animals appearing under certain circumstances, operating upon an excited imagination, and so producing ocular illusion, cannot avail here. It is quite impossible that six Shetland fishermen could commit such a mistake." It would seem that the narrator demands that his readers shall be silenced, if unconvinced; but "He that complies against his will Is of his own opinion still." This incident is well-attested, and merits respectful and careful consideration; but I decline to admit any such impossibility of error in observation or description on the part of the fishermen, or the further impossibility of recognising in the animal captured by them one known to naturalists. The particulars given in this instance, and also of the supposed merman seen cast ashore dead in 1719 by the Rev. Peter Angel (p. 22), are sufficiently accurate descriptions of a warm-blooded marine animal, with which the Shetlanders, and probably Mr. Edmonston also, were unacquainted, namely, the rytina, of which I shall have more to say presently; and these occurrences afford some slight hope that this remarkable beast may not have become extinct in 1768, as has been supposed, but that it may still exist somewhat further south than it was met with by its original describer, Steller. Turning to Ireland, we find the same credence in the semi-human fish, or fish-tailed human being. In the autumn of 1819 it was affirmed that "a creature appeared on the Irish coast, about the size of a girl ten years of age, with a bosom as prominent as one of sixteen, having a profusion of long dark-brown hair, and full, dark eyes. The hands and arms were formed like those of a man, with a slight web connecting the upper part of the fingers, which were frequently employed in throwing back and dividing the hair. The tail appeared like that of a dolphin." This creature remained basking on the rocks during an hour, in the sight of numbers of people, until frightened by the flash of a musket, when "Away she went with a sea-gull's scream, And a splash of her saucy tail,"[61] [61] Tom Hood. 'The Mermaid at Margate.' for it instantly plunged with a scream into the sea. From Irish legends we learn that those sea-nereids, the "Merrows," or "Moruachs" came occasionally from the sea, gained the affections of men, and interested themselves in their affairs; and similar traditions of the "Morgan" (sea-women) and the "Morverch" (sea-daughters) are current in Brittany. In English poetry the mermaid has been the subject of many charming verses, and Shakspeare alludes to it in his plays no less than six times. The head-quarters of these "daughters of the sea" in England, or of the belief in their existence, are in Cornwall. There the fisherman, many a time and "Oft, beneath the silver moon,[62] Has heard, afar, the mermaid sing," and has listened, so they say, to "The mermaid's sweet sea-soothing lay That charmed the dancing waves to sleep."[62] [62] John Leyden. Mr. Robert Hunt, F.R.S., in his collection of the traditions and superstitions of old Cornwall,[63] records several curious legends of the "merrymaids" and "merrymen" (the local name of mermaids), which he had gathered from the fisher-folk and peasants in different parts of that county. [63] 'Romances and Drolls of the West of England.' London: Hotten, 1871. And, in a pleasant article in 'All the Year Round,'[64] 1865, "A Cornish Vicar"[65] mentions some of the superstitions of the people in his neighbourhood, and the perplexing questions they occasionally put to him. One of his parishioners, an old man named Anthony Cleverdon, but who was popularly known as "Uncle Tony," having been the seventh son of his parents, in direct succession, was looked upon, in consequence, as a soothsayer. This "ancient augur" confided to his pastor many highly efficacious charms and formularies, and, in return, sought for information from him on other subjects. One day he puzzled the parson by a question which so well illustrates the local ideas concerning mermaids, and the sequel of which is, moreover, so humorously related by the vicar, that I venture to quote his own words, as follows:-- [64] Vol. xiii. p. 336. [65] The "Cornish Vicar" was, evidently, the Rev. Robert Stephen Hawker, M.A., Vicar of Morwenstow, and author of 'Echoes from Old Cornwall,' 'Footprints of Former Men in Cornwall,' etc. "Uncle Tony said to me, 'Sir, there is one thing I want to ask you, if I may be so free, and it is this: why should a merrymaid, that will ride about upon the waters in such terrible storms, and toss from sea to sea in such ruckles as there be upon the coast, why should she never lose her looking-glass and comb?' 'Well, I suppose,' said I, 'that if there are such creatures, Tony, they must wear their looking-glasses and combs fastened on somehow, like fins to a fish.' 'See!' said Tony, chuckling with delight, 'what a thing it is to know the Scriptures, like your reverence; I should never have found it out. But there's another point, sir, I should like to know, if you please; I've been bothered about it in my mind hundreds of times. Here be I, that have gone up and down Holacombe cliffs and streams fifty years come next Candlemas, and I've gone and watched the water by moonlight and sunlight, days and nights, on purpose, in rough weather and smooth (even Sundays, too, saving your presence), and my sight as good as most men's, and yet I never could come to see a merrymaid in all my life: how's that, sir?' 'Are you sure, Tony,' I rejoined, 'that there are such things in existence at all?' 'Oh, sir, my old father seen her twice! He was out one night for wreck (my father watched the coast, like most of the old people formerly), and it came to pass that he was down at the duck-pool on the sand at low-water tide, and all to once he heard music in the sea. Well, he croped on behind a rock, like a coastguardsman watching a boat, and got very near the music ... and there was the merrymaid, very plain to be seen, swimming about upon the waves like a woman bathing--and singing away. But my father said it was very sad and solemn to hear--more like the tune of a funeral hymn than a Christmas carol, by far--but it was so sweet that it was as much as he could do to hold back from plunging into the tide after her. And he an old man of sixty-seven, with a wife and a houseful of children at home. The second time was down here by Holacombe Pits. He had been looking out for spars--there was a ship breaking up in the Channel--and he saw some one move just at half-tide mark, so he went on very softly, step by step, till he got nigh the place, and there was the merrymaid sitting on a rock, the bootyfullest merrymaid that eye could behold, and she was twisting about her long hair, and dressing it, just like one of our girls getting ready for her sweetheart on the Sabbath-day. The old man made sure he should greep hold of her before ever she found him out, and he had got so near that a couple of paces more and he would have caught her by the hair, as sure as tithe or tax, when, lo and behold, she looked back and glimpsed him! So, in one moment she dived head-foremost off the rock, and then tumbled herself topsy-turvy about in the water, and cast a look at my poor father, and grinned like a seal.'" And a seal it probably was that Tony's "poor father" saw. What, then, are these mermaids and mermen, a belief in whose existence has prevailed in all ages, and amongst all the nations of the earth? Have they, really, some of the parts and proportions of man, or do they belong to another order of mammals on which credulity and inaccurate observation have bestowed a false character? Mr. Swainson, a naturalist of deserved eminence, has maintained on purely scientific grounds, that there must exist a marine animal uniting the general form of a fish with that of a man; that by the laws of Nature the natatorial type of the _Quadrumana_ is most assuredly wanting, and that, apart from man, a being connecting the seals with the monkeys is required to complete the circle of quadrumanous animals.[66] [66] 'Geography and Distribution of Animals.' Mr. Gosse[67] argues that all the characters which Mr. Swainson selects as marking the natatorial type of animals belong to man, and that he being, in his savage state, a great swimmer, is the true aquatic primate, which Mr. Swainson regards as absent. Mr. Gosse admits, however, that "nature has an odd way of mocking at our impossibilities, and" that "it _may be_ that green-haired maidens with oary tails, lurk in the ocean caves, and keep mirrors and combs upon their rocky shelves;" and the conclusion he arrives at is that the combined evidence "induces a strong suspicion that the northern seas may hold forms of life as yet uncatalogued by science." [67] 'Romance of Natural History,' 2nd Series. That there are animals in the northern and other seas with which we are unacquainted, is more than probable: discoveries of animals of new species are constantly being made, especially in the life of the deep sea. But I venture to think that the production of an animal at present unknown is quite unnecessary to account for the supposed appearances of mermaids. We have in the form and habits of the _Phocidæ_, or earless seals, a sufficient interpretation of almost every incident of the kind that has occurred north of the Equator--of those in which protuberant _mammæ_ are described, we must presently seek another explanation. The round, plump, expressive face of a seal, the beautiful, limpid eyes, the hand-like fore-paws, the sleek body, tapering towards the flattened hinder fins, which are directed backwards, and spread out in the form of a broad fin, like the tail of a fish, might well give the idea of an animal having the anterior part of its body human and the posterior half piscine. In the habits of the seals, also, we may trace those of the supposed mermaid, and the more easily the better we are acquainted with them. All seals are fond of leaving the water frequently. They always select the flattest and most shelving rocks which have been covered at high tide, and prefer those that are separated from the mainland. They generally go ashore at half-tide, and invariably lie with their heads towards the water, and seldom more than a yard or two from it. There they will often remain, if undisturbed, for six hours; that is, until the returning tide floats them off the rock. As for the sweet melody, "so melting soft," that must depend much on the ear and musical taste of the listener. I have never heard a seal utter any vocal sounds but a porcine grunt, a plaintive moan, and a pitiful whine. But another habit of the seals has, probably more than anything else, caused them to be mistaken for semi-human beings--namely, that of poising themselves upright in the water with the head and the upper third part of the body above the surface. One calm sunny morning in August, 1881, a fine schooner-yacht, on board of which I was a guest, was slowly gliding out of the mouth of the river Maas, past the Hook of Holland, into the North Sea, when a seal rose just ahead of us, and assumed the attitude above described. It waited whilst we passed it, inspecting us apparently with the greatest interest; then dived, swam in the direction in which we were sailing, so as to intercept our course, and came up again, sitting upright as before. This it repeated three times, and so easily might it have been taken for a mermaid, that one of the party, who was called on deck to see it, thought, at first, that it was a boy who had swam off from the shore to the vessel on a begging expedition. Laing, in his account of a voyage to the North, mentions having seen a seal under similar circumstances. A young seal which was brought from Yarmouth to the Brighton Aquarium in 1873, habitually sat thus, showing his head and a considerable portion of his body out of water. His bath was so shallow in some parts that he was able to touch the bottom, and, with his after-flippers tucked under him, like a lobster's tail, and spread out in front, he would balance himself on his hind quarters, and look inquisitively at everybody, and listen attentively to everything within sight and hearing. When he was satisfied that no one was likely to interfere with him, and that it was unnecessary to be on the alert, he would half-close his beautiful, soft eyes, and either contentedly pat, stroke, and scratch his little fat stomach with his right paw, or flap both of them across his breast in a most ludicrous manner, exactly as a cabman warms the tips of his fingers on a wintry day, by swinging his arms vigorously across his chest, and striking his hands against his body on either side. He was very sensitive to musical sounds, as many dogs are, and when a concert took place in the building a high note from one of the vocalists would cause him to utter a mournful wail, and to dive with a splash that made the water fly, the audience smile, and the singer frown. Captain Scoresby tells us that he had seen the walrus with its head above water, and in such a position that it required little stretch of imagination to mistake it for a human being, and that on one occasion of this kind the surgeon of his ship actually reported to him that he had seen a man with his head above water. Peter Gunnersen's merman (p. 24), who "blew up his cheeks and made a kind of roaring noise" before diving, was probably a "bladder-nose" seal. The males of that species have on the head a peculiar pad, which they can dilate at pleasure, and their voice is loud and discordant. The appearance and behaviour of Steller's "sea-ape," described on p. 25, may, I think, be attributed to one of the eared seals, the so-called sea-lions, or sea-bears. Every one who has seen these animals fed must have noticed the rapidity with which they will dive and swim to any part of their pond where they expect to receive food, and how, like a dog after a pebble, they will keenly watch their keeper's movements, and start in the direction to which he is apparently about to throw a fish, even before the latter has left his hand. This may be seen at the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park, and, better than anywhere else in Europe, at the Jardin d'Acclimatation, Paris. It would be quite in accordance with their habits that one of these _Otaria_ should dive under a ship, and rise above the surface on either side, eagerly surveying those on board, in hope of obtaining food, or from mere curiosity. The seals and their movements account for so many mermaid stories, that all accounts of sea-women with prominent bosoms were ridiculed and discredited until competent observers recognised in the form and habits of certain aquatic animals met with in the bays and estuaries of the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, the west coast of Africa, and sub-tropical America, the originals of these "travellers' tales." These were--first, the _manatee_, which is found in the West Indian Islands, Florida, the Gulf of Mexico, and Brazil, and in Africa in the River Congo, Senegambia, and the Mozambique Channel; second, the _dugong_, or _halicore_, which ranges along the east coast of Africa, Southern Asia, the Bornean Archipelago, and Australia; and, third, the _rytina_, seen on Behring's Island in the Kamschatkan Sea by Steller, the Russian zoologist and voyager, in 1741, and which is supposed to have become extinct within twenty-seven years after its discovery, by its having been recklessly and indiscriminately slaughtered.[68] Then science, in the person of Illeger, made the _amende honorable_, and frankly accepting Jack's introduction to his fish-tailed _innamorata_, classed these three animals together as a sub-order of the animal kingdom, and bestowed on them the name of the _Sirenia_. This was, of course, in allusion to the Sirens of classical mythology, who, in later art, were represented as having the body of a woman above the waist, and that of a fish below, although the lower portion of their body was originally described as being in the form of a bird. [68] Almost all that is known of the living rytina is from an account published in 1751, in St. Petersburg, by Steller, who was one of an exploring party wrecked on Behring's Island in 1741. During the ten months the crew remained on the island they pursued this easily-captured animal so persistently, for food, that it was all but annihilated at the time. The last one there was killed in 1768. It has been found difficult to determine to which order these _Manatidæ_ are most nearly allied. In shape they most closely resemble the whales and seals. But the cetacea are all carnivorous, whereas the manatee and its relatives live entirely on vegetable food. Although, therefore, Dr. J. E. Gray, following Cuvier, classed them with the cetacea in his British Museum catalogue, other anatomists, as Professor Agassiz, Professor Owen, and Dr. Murie, regard their resemblance to the whales as rather superficial than real, and conclude from their organisation and dentition that they ought either to form a group apart or be classed with the pachyderms--the hippopotamus, tapir, etc.--with which they have the nearest affinities, and to which they seem to have been more immediately linked by the now lost genera, _Dinotherium_ and _Halitherium_. With the opinion of those last-named authorities I entirely agree. I regard the manatee as exhibiting a wonderful modification and adaptation of the structure of a warm-blooded land animal which enables it to pass its whole life in water, and as a connecting link between the hippopotamus, elephant, etc., on the one side, and the whales and seals on the other. The _Halitherium_ was a Sirenian with which we are only acquainted by its fossil remains found in the Miocene formation of Central and Southern Europe. These indicate that it had short hind limbs, and, consequently, approached more nearly the terrestrial type than either the manatee, the rytina, or the dugong, in which the hind limbs are absent. The two last named tend more than does the manatee to the marine mammals; but there is a strong likeness between these three recent forms. They all have a cylindrical body, like that of a seal, but instead of hind limbs there is in all a broad tail flattened horizontally; and the chief difference in their outward appearance is in the shape of this organ. In the manatee it is rounded, in the dugong forked like that of a whale, in the rytina crescent-shaped. The tail of the _Halitherium_ appears to have been shaped somewhat like that of the beaver. The body of the manatee is broader in proportion to its length and depth than that of the dugong. In a paper read before the Royal Society, July 12th, 1821, on a manatee sent to London in spirits by the Duke of Manchester, then Governor of Jamaica, Sir Everard Home remarked of this greater lateral expansion that, as the manatee feeds on plants that grow at the mouths of great rivers, and the dugong upon those met with in the shallows amongst small islands in the Eastern seas, the difference of form would make the manatee more buoyant and better fitted to float in fresh water. [Illustration: FIG. 16.--THE DUGONG. _From Sir J. Emerson Tennent's 'Ceylon.'_] In all the _Manatidæ_ the mammæ of the female, which are greatly distended during the period of lactation, are situated very differently from those of the whales, being just beneath the pectoral fins. These fins or paws are much more flexible and free in their movements than those of the cetæ, and are sufficiently prehensile to enable the animal to gather food between the palms or inner surfaces of both, and the female to hold her young one to her breast with one of them. Like the whales, they are warm-blooded mammals, breathing by lungs, and are therefore obliged to come to the surface at frequent intervals for respiration. As they breathe through nostrils at the end of the muzzle, instead of, like most of the whales, through a blow-hole on the top of the head, their habit is to rise, sometimes vertically, in the water, with the head and fore part of the body exposed above the surface, and often to remain in this position for some minutes. When seen thus, with head and breast bare, and clasping its young one to its body, the female presents a certain resemblance to a woman from the waist upward. When approached or disturbed it dives; the tail and hinder portion of the body come into view, and we see that if there was little of the "_mulier formosa superne_," at any rate "_desinit in piscem_." The manatee has thence been called by the Spaniards and Portuguese the "woman-fish," and by the Dutch the "manetje," or mannikin. The dugong, having the muzzle bristly, is named by the latter the "baardmanetje," or "little bearded man." There are no bristles or whiskers on the muzzle of the manatee; all the portraits of it in which these are shown are in that respect erroneous. The origin of the word "manatee" has by some been traced to the Spanish, as indicating "an animal with hands." On the west coast of Africa it is called by the natives "Ne-hoo-le." By old writers it was described as the "sea-cow." Gesner depicts it in the act of bellowing; and Mr. Bates, in his work, "The Naturalist on the Amazon," says that its voice is something like the bellowing of an ox. The Florida "crackers" or "mean whites," make the same statement. Although I have had opportunities of prolonged observation of it in captivity, I have not heard it give utterance to any sound--not even a grunt--and Mr. Bartlett, of the Zoological Gardens, tells me that his experience of it is the same. His son, Mr. Clarence Bartlett, says that a young one he had in Surinam used to make a feeble cry, or bleat, very much like the voice of a young seal. This is the only sound he ever heard from a manatee.[69] [69] For a full description of the habits of this animal in captivity, see an article by the present writer in the 'Leisure Hour' of September 28, 1878; from which the illustration, Fig. 17, is borrowed by the kind consent of the Editor of that publication. I believe the dugong to be more especially the animal referred to by Ælian as the semi-human whale, and that which has led to this group having been supposed by southern voyagers to be aquatic human beings. In the first place, the dugong is a denizen of the sea, whereas the manatee is chiefly found in rivers and fresh-water lagoons; and secondly, the dugong accords with Ælian's description of the creature with a woman's face in that it has "prickles instead of hairs," whilst the manatee has no such stiff bristles. In the case of either of these two animals being mistaken for a mermaid, however, "distance" must "lend enchantment to the view," and a sailor must be very impressible and imaginative who, even after having been deprived for many months of the pleasure of females' society, could be allured by the charms of a bristly-muzzled dugong, or mistake the snorting of a wallowing manatee for the love-song of a beauteous sea-maiden. [Illustration: FIG. 17.--THE MANATEE. ITS USUAL POSITION.] Unfortunately both the dugong and the manatee are being hunted to extinction. The flesh of the manatee is considered a great delicacy. Humboldt compares it with ham. Unlike that of the whales, which is of a deep and dark red hue, it is as white as veal, and, it is said, tastes very like it. It is remarkable for retaining its freshness much longer than other meat, which in a tropical climate generally putrefies in twenty-eight hours. It is therefore well adapted for pickling, as the salt has time to penetrate the flesh before it is tainted. The Catholic clergy of South America do not object to its being eaten on fast days, on the supposition that, with whales, seals, and other aquatic mammals, it may be liberally regarded as "fish." The "Indians" of the Amazon and Orinoco are so fond of it that they will spend many days, if necessary, in hunting for a manatee, and having killed one will cut it into slabs and slices on the spot, and cook these on stakes thrust into the ground aslant over a great fire, and heavily gorge themselves as long as the provision lasts. The milk of this animal is said to be rich and good, and the skin is valuable for its toughness, and is much in request for making leathern articles in which great strength and durability are required. The tail contains a great deal of oil, which is believed to be extremely nutritious, and has also the property of not becoming rancid. Unhappily for the dugong, its oil is in similarly high repute, and is greatly preferred as a nutrient medicine to cod-liver oil. As its flesh also is much esteemed, it is so persistently hunted on the Australian coasts that it will probably soon become extinct, like the rytina of Steller. The same fate apparently awaits the manatee, which is becoming perceptibly more and more scarce. I fear that before many years have elapsed the Sirens of the Naturalist will have disappeared from our earth, before the advance of civilization, as completely as the fables and superstitions with which they have been connected, before the increase of knowledge; and that the mermaid of fact will have become as much a creature of the past as the mermaid of fiction. With regard to the latter--the Siren of the poets,--the water-maiden of the pearly comb, the crystal mirror, and the sea-green tresses,--there are few persons I suppose, at the present day who would not be content to be classed with Banks, the fine old naturalist and formerly ship-mate of Captain Cook. Sir Humphry Davy in his _Salmonia_ relates an anecdote of a baronet, a profound believer in these fish-tailed ladies, who on hearing some one praise very highly Sir Joseph Banks, said that "Sir Joseph was an excellent man, but he had his prejudices--he did not believe in the mermaid." I confess to having a similar "prejudice;" and am willing to adopt the further remark of Sir Humphry Davy:--"I am too much of the school of Izaac Walton to talk of impossibility. It doubtless might please God to make a mermaid, but I don't believe God ever did make one." THE LERNEAN HYDRA. The mystery of the Kraken, of which I treated in a companion volume to the present, recently published, is not difficult to unravel. The clue to it is plain, and when properly taken up is as easily unwound, to arrive at the truth, as a cocoon of silk, to get at the chrysalis within it. It was a boorish exaggeration, a legend of ignorance, superstition, and wonder. But when such a skein of facts has passed through the hands of the poets, it is sure to be found in a much more intricate tangle; and many a knot of pure invention may have to be cut before it is made clear. Nevertheless, we shall be able to discern that more than one of the most famous and hideous monsters of old classical lore originated, like the Kraken, in a knowledge by their authors of the form and habits of those strange sea-creatures, the head-footed mollusks. There can be little doubt that the octopus was the model from which the old poets and artists formed their ideas, and drew their pictures of the Lernean Hydra, whose heads grew again when cut off by Hercules; and also of the monster Scylla, who, with six heads and six long writhing necks, snatched men off the decks of passing ships and devoured them in the recesses of her gloomy cavern. Of the Hydra Diodorus relates that it had a hundred heads; Simonides says fifty; but the generally received opinion was that of Apollodorus, Hyginus, and others, that it had only nine. Apollodorus of Athens, son of Asclepiades, who wrote in stiff, quaint Greek about 120 B.C., gives in his 'Bibliotheca' (book ii. chapter 5, section 2) the following account of the many-headed monster. "This Hydra," he says, "nourished in the marshes of Lerne, went forth into the open country and destroyed the herds of the land. It had a huge body and nine heads, eight mortal, but the ninth immortal. Having mounted his chariot, which was driven by Iolaus, Hercules got to Lerne and stopped his horses. Finding the Hydra on a certain raised ground near the source of the Amymon, where its lair was, he made it come out by pelting it with burning missiles. He seized and stopped it, but having twisted itself round one of his feet, it struggled with him. He broke its head with his club: but that was useless; for when one head was broken two sprang up, and a huge crab helped the Hydra by biting the foot of Hercules. This he killed, and called Iolaus, who, setting on fire part of the adjoining forest, burned with torches the germs of the growing heads, and stopped their development. Having thus out-manoeuvred the growing heads, he cut off the immortal head, buried it, and put a heavy stone upon it, beside the road going from Lerne to Eleonta, and having opened the Hydra, dipped his arrows in its gall." If we wish to find in nature the counterpart of this Hydra, we must seek, firstly, for an animal with eight out-growths from its trunk, which it can develop afresh, or replace by new ones, in case of any or all of them being amputated or injured. We must also show that this animal, so strange in form and possessing such remarkable attributes, was well known in the locality where the legend was believed. We have it in the octopus, which abounded in the Mediterranean and Ægean seas, and whose eight prehensile arms, or tentacles, spring from its central body, the immortal head, and which, if lost or mutilated by misadventure, are capable of reproduction. [Illustration: FIG. 18.--FIGURE OF A CALAMARY. _From the temple of Bayr-el-Bahree_.] That a knowledge of the octopus existed at a very early period of man's history we have abundant evidence. The ancient Egyptians figured it amongst their hieroglyphics, and an interesting proof that they were also acquainted with other cephalopods was given to me by the late Mr. E. W. Cooke, R.A. Whilst on a trip up the Nile, in January, 1875, he visited the temple of Bayr-el-Bahree, Thebes (date 1700 B.C.), the entrance to which had been deeply buried beneath the light, wind-drifted sand, accumulated during many centuries. By order of the Khedive, access had just at that time been obtained to its interior, by the excavation and removal of this deep deposit, and, amongst the hieroglyphics on the walls, were found, between the zig-zag lines which represent water, figures of various fishes, copies of which Mr. Cooke kindly gave me, and which are so accurately portrayed as to be easily identified. With them was the outline of a squid fourteen inches long, a figure of which, from Mr. Cooke's drawing, is here shown. As this temple is five hundred miles from the delta of the Nile, it is remarkable that nearly all the fishes there represented are of marine species. [Illustration: FIG. 19.--FIGURE OF AN OCTOPUS ON A GOLD ORNAMENT, FOUND BY DR. SCHLIEMANN AT MYCENÆ.] That the octopus was a familiar object with the ancient Greeks, we know by the frequency with which its portrait is found on their coins, gems, and ornaments. Aldrovandus describes "very ancient coins" found at Syracuse and Tarentum bearing the figure of an octopus. He says the Syracusans had two coins, one of bronze, the other of gold, both of which had an octopus alone on one side. On the reverse of the bronze one was a veiled female face in profile, with the inscription [Greek: SURA]. I have one of these bronze Syracusan coins; it was kindly given to me, some years ago, by my friend, Dr. John Millar, F.L.S. The octopus is really well depicted. On the gold coin the female head was differently veiled, and at the back of the neck was a fish. The inscription on this coin was [Greek: SURAKOSIÔN]. Goltzius was of the opinion that the head was that of Arethusa. The coins found at Tarentum had on one side a figure of Neptune seated on a dolphin, and holding an octopus in one hand and a trident in the other. [Illustration: FIG. 20.--GOLDEN ORNAMENT IN FORM OF AN OCTOPUS, FOUND BY DR. SCHLIEMANN AT MYCENÆ.] Lerne, or Lerna, the reputed home of the Hydra, was a port of Southern Greece, situated at the head of the Gulf of Nauplia, and between the existing towns of Argos and Tripolitza. Within a few miles of it was Mycenæ; and it is remarkable that Dr. Schliemann, during his excavations there in 1876, found in a tomb a gold plate, or button, two and a half inches in diameter (Fig. 19), on which is figured an octopus, the eight arms of which are converted into spirals, the head and the two eyes being distinctly visible. In another sepulchre he discovered fifty-three golden models of the octopus (Fig. 20), all exactly alike, and apparently cast in the same mould. The arms are very naturally carved. By the kindness of Mr. Murray, his publisher, I am enabled to give illustrations of these and two other handsome ornaments. Having ascertained that the octopus was a familiar object in the very locality where the combat between Hercules and the Hydra is supposed to have taken place, let us compare the animal as it exists with the monstrous offspring of Typhon and Echidna. [Illustration: FIG. 21. FIG. 22. FIGURES OF THE OCTOPUS ON GOLD ORNAMENTS FOUND BY DR. SCHLIEMANN AT MYCENÆ.] It is a not uncommon occurrence that when an octopus is caught it is found to have one or more of its arms shorter than the rest, and showing marks of having been amputated, and of the formation of a new growth from the old cicatrix. Several such specimens were brought to the Brighton Aquarium whilst I had charge of its Natural History Department. One of them was particularly interesting. Two of its arms had evidently been bitten off about four inches from the base: and out from the end of each healed stump (which in proportion to the length of the limb was as if a man's arm had been amputated halfway between the shoulder and the elbow), grew a slender little piece of newly-formed arm, about as large as a lady's stiletto, or a small button-hook--in fact just the equivalent of worthy Captain Cuttle's iron hook, which did duty for his lost hand. It was an illustrative example of the commencement of the repair and restoration of mutilated limbs. This mutilation is so common in some localities, that Professor Steenstrup says[70] that almost every octopus he has examined has had one or two arms reproduced; and that he has seen females in which all the eight arms had been lost, but were more or less restored. He also mentions a male in which this was the case as to seven of its arms. He adds that whilst the _Octopoda_ possess the power of reproducing with great facility and rapidity their arms, which are exposed to so many enemies, the _Decapoda_--the _Sepiidæ_ and Squids--appear to be incapable of thus repairing and replacing accidental injuries. This is entirely in accord with my own observations. [70] Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. August, 1857. This reparative power is possessed by some other animals, of which the starfishes and crustacea are the most familiar instances. In the case of the lobster or crab, however, the only joint from which new growth can start is that connected with the body, so that if a limb be injured in any part, the whole of it must be got rid of, and the animal has, therefore, the power of casting it off at will. The octopus, on the contrary, is incapable of voluntary dismemberment, but reproduces the lost portion of an injured arm, as an out-growth from the old stump. The ancients were well acquainted with this reparative faculty of the octopus: but of course the simple fact was insufficient for an imaginative people: and they therefore embellished it with some fancies of their own. There lingers still amongst the fishermen of the Mediterranean a very old belief that the octopus when pushed by hunger will gnaw and devour portions of its arms. Aristotle knew of this belief, and positively contradicted it; but a fallacy once planted is hard to eradicate. You may cut it down, and apparently destroy it, root and branch, but its seeds are scattered abroad, and spring up elsewhere, and in unexpected places. Accordingly, we find Oppian, more than five centuries later, disseminating the same old notion, and comparing this habit of the animal with that of the bear obtaining nutriment from his paws by sucking them during his hybernation. "When wintry skies o'er the black ocean frown, And clouds hang low with ripen'd storms o'ergrown, Close in the shelter of some vaulted cave The soft-skinn'd prekes[71] their porous bodies save. But forc'd by want, while rougher seas they dread, On their own feet, necessitous, are fed. But when returning spring serenes the skies, Nature the growing parts anew supplies. Again on breezy sands the roamers creep, Twine to the rocks, or paddle in the deep. Doubtless the God whose will commands the seas, Whom liquid worlds and wat'ry natives please, Has taught the fish by tedious wants opprest Life to preserve and be himself the feast." [71] The octopus is still called the "preke" in some parts of England, notably in Sussex. The translation of Oppian's 'Halieutics,' from which this passage and others are quoted is that by Messrs. Jones and Diaper, of Baliol College, Oxford, and was published in 1722. The fact is, that the larger predatory fishes regard an octopus as very acceptable food, and there is no better bait for many of them than a portion of one of its arms. Some of the cetacea also are very fond of them, and whalers have often reported that when a "fish" (as they call it) is struck it disgorges the contents of its stomach, amongst which they have noticed parts of the arms of cuttles which, judging from the size of their limbs, must have been very large specimens. The food of the sperm whale consists largely of the gregarious squids, and the presence in spermaceti of their undigested beaks is accepted as a test of its being genuine. That old fish-reptile, the Ichthyosaurus, also, preyed upon them; and portions of the horny rings of their suckers were discovered in its coprolites by Dean Buckland. Amongst the worst enemies of the octopus is the conger. They are both rock-dwellers, and if the voracious fish come upon his cephalopod neighbour unseen, he makes a meal of him, or, failing to drag him from his hold, bites off as much of one or two of his arms as he can conveniently obtain. The conger, therefore, is generally the author of the injury which the octopus has been unfairly accused of inflicting on itself. Continuing our comparison with the hydra, we have in the octopus an animal capable of quitting its rocky lurking-place in the sea, and going on a buccaneering expedition on dry land. Many incidents have been related in connection with this; but I can attest it from my own observation. I have seen an octopus travel over the floor of a room at a very fair rate of speed, toppling and sprawling along in its own ungainly fashion; and in May, 1873, we had one at the Brighton Aquarium which used regularly every night to quit its tank, and make its way along the wall to another tank at some distance from it, in which were some young lump-fishes. Day after day, one of these was missing, until, at last, the marauder was discovered. Many days elapsed, however, before he was detected, for after helping himself to, and devouring a young "lump-sucker," he demurely returned before daylight to his own quarters. Of this habit of the octopus the ancients were, also, fully aware. Aristotle wrote that it left the water and walked in stony places, and Pliny and Ælian related tales of this animal stealing barrels of salt fish from the wharves, and crushing their staves to get at the contents. An octopus that could do this would be as formidable a predatory monster as the Lernean Hydra, which had the evil reputation of devouring the Peloponnesian cattle. Whoever first described the counter-attack of the Hydra on Hercules must have had the octopus in his thoughts. "It twisted itself round one of his feet"--exactly that which an octopus would do. [Illustration: FIG. 23.--HERCULES SLAYING THE LERNEAN HYDRA. _From Smith's 'Classical Dictionary.'_] Finally, according to the legend, Hercules dipped his arrow-heads in the gall of the Hydra, and, from its poisonous nature, all the wounds he inflicted with them upon his enemies proved fatal. It is worthy of notice that the ancients attributed to the octopus the possession of a similarly venomous secretion. Thus Oppian writes: "The crawling preke a deadly juice contains Injected poison fires the wounded veins." The accompanying illustration (Fig. 23) of Hercules slaying the Hydra is taken from a marble tablet in the Vatican. It will be immediately seen how closely the Hydra, as there depicted, resembles an octopus. The body is elongated, but the eight necks with small heads on them bear about the same proportion to the body as the arms to the body of an octopus. The Reverend James Spence, in his 'Polymetis,' published in 1755, gives a figure, almost the counterpart of this, copied from an antique gem, a carnelian, in the collection of the Grand Duke of Tuscany at Florence. Only seven necks of the hydra are, however, there visible, and there are two coils in the elongated body. On the upper part are two spots which have been supposed to represent breasts. This was probably intended by the artificer; but that the idea originated from a duplication of the syphon tube is evident from the figures (Figs. 21, 22) of the octopus on the smaller gold ornaments found by Dr. Schliemann at Mycenæ. In the same work is also an engraving from a picture in the Vatican Virgil, entitled 'The River, or Hateful Passage into the Kingdom of Ades,' wherein an octopus-hydra, of which only six heads and necks are shown, is one of the monsters called by the author "Terrors of the Imagination." SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. In the description given by Homer, in the twelfth book of the 'Odyssey,' of the unfortunate nymph Scylla, transformed by the arts of Circe into a frightful monster, the same typical idea as in the case of the Hydra is perceptible. The lurking octopus, having its lair in the cranny of a rock, watching in ambush for passing prey, seizing anything coming within its reach with one or more of its prehensile arms, even brandishing these fear-inspiring weapons out of water in a threatening manner, and known in some localities to be dangerous to boats and their occupants, is transformed into a many-headed sea monster, seizing in its mouths, instead of by the adhesive suckers of its numerous arms, the helpless sailors from passing vessels, and devouring them in the abysses of its cavernous den. Circe, prophesying to Ulysses the dangers he had still to encounter, warned him especially of Scylla and Charybdis, within the power of one of whom he must fall in passing through the narrow strait (between Italy and Sicily) where they had their horrid abode. Describing the lofty rock of Scylla, she tells him: "Full in the centre of this rock displayed A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade, Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow Sent with full force, could reach the depth below. Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends, And the dire passage down to hell descends. O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails, Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales; Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes; Tremendous pest! abhorred by man and gods! Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar The whelps of lions in the midnight hour. Twelve feet deformed and foul the fiend dispreads; Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads; * * * * * When stung with hunger she embroils the flood, The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food; She makes the huge leviathan her prey, And all the monsters of the wat'ry way; The swiftest racer of the azure plain Here fills her sails and spreads her oars in vain; Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars, At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours."[72] [72] Homer's 'Odyssey,' Pope's Translation, Book XII. Circe then describes the perils of the whirling waters of Charybdis as still more dreadful; and, admonishing Ulysses that once in her power all must perish, she advises him to choose the lesser of the two evils, and to "shun the horrid gulf, by Scylla fly; 'Tis better six to lose than all to die." Ulysses continues his voyage; and as his ship enters the ominous strait, "Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we viewed The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood; When, lo! fierce Scylla stooped to seize her prey, Stretched her dire jaws, and swept six men away. Chiefs of renown! loud echoing shrieks arise; I turn, and view them quivering in the skies; They call, and aid, with outstretched arms, implore, In vain they call! those arms are stretched no more. As from some rock that overhangs the flood, The silent fisher casts th' insidious food; With fraudful care he waits the finny prize, And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies; So the foul monster lifts her prey on high, So pant the wretches, struggling in the sky; In the wide dungeon she devours her food, And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood." THE "SPOUTING" OF WHALES. One of the sea-fallacies still generally believed, and accepted as true, is that whales take in water by the mouth, and eject it from the spiracle, or blow-hole. The popular ideas on this subject are still those which existed hundreds of years ago, and which are expressed by Oppian in two passages in his 'Halieutics': "Uncouth the sight when they in dreadful play Discharge their nostrils and refund a sea," and "While noisy fin-fish let their fountains fly And spout the curling torrent to the sky." Eminent zoologists and intelligent observers, who have had full opportunities of obtaining practical knowledge of the habits of these great marine mammals, have forcibly combated and repeatedly contradicted this erroneous idea; but their sensible remarks have been read by few, in comparison with the numbers of those to whom a wrong impression has been conveyed by sensational pictures in which whales are represented _with their heads above the surface_, and throwing up from their nostrils columns of water, like the fountains in Trafalgar Square. One can hardly be surprised that the old writers on Natural History were unacquainted with the real composition of the whale's "spout." Those of them who sought for any original information on marine zoology, obtained it chiefly from uninstructed and superstitious fishermen; but they generally contented themselves with diligent compilation, and thus copied and transmitted the errors of their predecessors, with the addition of some slight embellishments of their own. Accordingly, we find Olaus Magnus[73] describing, as follows, the _Physeter_, or, as his translator, Streater, calls it, the _Whirlpool_. "The _Physeter_ or _Pristis_," he says, "is a kind of whale, two hundred cubits long, and is very cruel. For, to the danger of seamen, he will sometimes raise himself above the sail-yards, and casts such floods of waters above his head, which he had sucked in, that with a cloud of them he will often sink the strongest ships, or expose the mariners to extreme danger. This beast hath also a large round mouth, like a lamprey, whereby he sucks in his meat or water, and by his weight cast upon the fore or hinder deck, he sinks and drowns a ship." [73] 'Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus,' lib. xxi. cap. vi. A.D. 1555. Figures 24 and 25 (p. 64) are facsimiles of the illustrations which accompany the above description. It will be seen that, in the first, the _Physeter_ is depicted as uprearing a maned neck and head, like that of a fabled dragon; whilst in Fig. 25 it is shown as a whale flinging itself on board a ship, which is sinking under its ponderous weight. In both, torrents of water are issuing from its head, and it is evident that they are merely exaggerated misrepresentations of the "spouting" of whales. Gesner copies many of Olaus Magnus's illustrations, and improves upon Fig. 25 by putting a numerous crew on board the ship. The unfortunate sailors are depicted in every attitude of terror and despair, and seem to be incapacitated from any attempt to save themselves by the flood of water which the whale is deliberately pouring upon them from its blow-holes. [Illustration: FIG. 24.--THE PHYSETER INUNDATING A SHIP. _After Olaus Magnus._] [Illustration: FIG. 25.--A WHALE POURING WATER INTO A SHIP FROM ITS BLOW-HOLE. _After Olaus Magnus._] [Illustration: FIG. 26--SPERM WHALES SPOUTING.] These old pictures appear, no doubt, ridiculous, but they are, really, very little more absurd and untrue to nature than many of those which disfigure some otherwise useful books on Natural History of the present day. I could refer to several, in which whales are represented as spouting from their blow-holes one or more columns of water, which, after ascending skyward to a considerable distance, fall over gracefully as if issuing from the nozzle of an ornamental fountain. I select one from amongst them (Fig. 26), not with any disrespect for the artist, author, or publisher of the work from which it is taken, but because, whilst it shows correctly the position of the blow-hole of the sperm whale, it also exhibits exactly that which I wish to confute. The publishers of the valuable work in which this picture appeared have generously consented to my reproducing it here. When, in describing, in 1877, the White Whale then exhibited at the Westminster Aquarium, I said that whales do not spout water out of their blow-holes, and that the idea that they do so is a popular error, the statement was so contrary to generally-accepted notions that I was not surprised by receiving more than one letter on the subject. One very reasonable suggestion made to me was that, although the lesser whales, such as the porpoises, which I had had opportunities of watching in confinement at Brighton for two years, and the _Beluga_, which had been observed for a similar period at the New York Aquarium, and also at Westminster, did not "spout," the respiratory apparatus of the larger whales might be so modified as to permit them to do so. Let us consider the construction of the breathing apparatus which would have to be thus modified, as shown in the porpoise. In the first place, there is a pair of lungs as perfect as those of any land mammal, fitted to receive air, and to bring the hot blood into contact with the air, that it may absorb the oxygen of the air, and so be purified. But this air cannot well be breathed through the mouth of an animal which has to take its food from and in water; so it has to be inhaled only by the nostrils. If these were situated as they are in land mammals, near the extremity of the nose, the porpoise would be obliged to stop when pursuing its prey, or, escaping from its enemies, to put the tip of its nose above the surface of the water every time it required to breathe. A much more convenient arrangement has, therefore, been provided for it, and for almost all whales, by which that difficulty is removed. Instead of running along the bones of the nose, the nostrils are placed on the top of the head, and the windpipe is turned up to them without having any connection with the palate. The upper jaw is quite solid. Thus the mouth is solely devoted to the reception of food, and the animal is enabled to continue its course when swimming, however rapidly, by rising obliquely to the surface, and exposing the top of its head above it. On the blow-hole being opened, the air, from which the oxygen has been absorbed, is expelled in a sudden puff, another supply is instantaneously inhaled, and rushes into the lungs with extreme velocity, and then the porpoise can either descend into the depths, or remain with its spiracle exposed to the air, as it may prefer. In this act of breathing the spiracle is normally brought above the water, the breath escapes, and the immediate inhalation is effected almost in silence. But frequently, and in some whales habitually, the blow-hole is opened just below the surface, and then the outrush of air causes a splash upwards of the water overlying it. I may here mention that I have frequently seen the porpoises at the Brighton Aquarium lying asleep at the surface, with the blow-hole exposed above it, breathing automatically, and without conscious effort. Aristotle was acquainted with this habit of the cetacea 2,200 years ago, for he wrote: "They sleep with the blow-hole, their organ of respiration, elevated above the water." The apparatus for closing the blow-hole, so that not a drop of water shall enter the windpipe, even under great pressure, is a beautiful contrivance, complex in its structure, yet most simple in its working. The external aperture is covered by a continuation of the skin, locally thickened, and connected with a conical stopper, of a texture as tough as india-rubber, which fits perfectly into a cone or funnel formed by the extremity of the windpipe, and closes more and more firmly as the pressure upon it is increased. Whilst the orifice is thus guarded, the lower end of the tube is surrounded by a strong compressing muscle, which clasps also the glottis, and thus the passage from the blow-hole to the lungs is completely stopped. There is nothing in this which indicates the possibility of the spouting of water from the nostrils; but as assertions that water had been seen to issue from them were positive and persistent, anatomists seem to have felt themselves obliged to try to account for it somehow. Accordingly the theory was propounded by F. Cuvier that the water taken into the mouth is reserved in two pouches (one on each side), until the whale rises to blow, when, the gullet being closed, it is forced by the action of the tongue and jaws through the nasal passages, somewhat as a smoker occasionally expels the smoke of his cigar through his nostrils. Although these pouches, or sacs analogous to them, are found at the base of the nostrils of the horse, tapir, etc.,--animals which do not "spout" from the nostrils water taken in by the mouth--the explanation was accepted for a time. Mr. Bell held this opinion when the first edition of his 'British Quadrupeds' was published in 1837, but before the issue of the second edition, in 1874, he had found reasons for taking a different view of the matter; and, under the advice of his judicious editors, Mr. Alston, and Professor Flower (the latter of whom supervised the proofs of the chapters on the Cetacea) his sanction of the illusion was withdrawn as follows:--"The results of more recent and careful observations, amongst which we may notice those of Bennett, Von Baer, Sars and Burmeister, are directly opposed to the statement that water is thus ejected; and there can now be no doubt that the appearance which has given rise to the idea is caused by the moisture with which the expelled breath is supercharged, which condenses at once in the cold outer air, and forms a cloud or column of white vapour. It is possible indeed that if the animal begins to 'blow' before its head is actually at the surface, the force of the rushing air may drive up some little spray along with it, but this is quite different from the notion that water is really expelled from the nasal passages. We may add that on the only occasion when we ourselves witnessed the 'spouting' of a large whale we were much struck with its resemblance to the column of white spray which is dashed up by the ricochetting ball fired from one of the great guns of a man-of-war." The simile is admirable, and nothing could better describe the appearance of a whale's "spout"; but, in the previous portion of the passage (except with reference to the sperm whale, the nostrils of which are not on the top of the head), I think sufficient importance is not conceded to the volume of water propelled into the air by the outrush of breath from the submerged blow-hole. I do not know how many cubic feet of air the lungs of a great whale are capable of containing, but the quantity is sufficient to force up to a height of several feet the water above the valve when the latter is opened, not only in "some little spray," but, for some distance in a good solid jet--enough, in fact, to give the appearance of its actually issuing from the blow-hole, and to account for the erroneous belief of sailors that it does so. It must be remembered that the escape of air is not by a prolonged wheeze, but by a sudden blast, and thus when the spiracle is opened just beneath the surface, an instant before it is uncovered to take in a fresh supply of air, the water above its orifice is thrown up as by a slight subaqueous explosion, or as by the momentary opening under water of the safety-valve of a steam boiler. Some idea of the force and volume of the blast of air from the lungs of even the common porpoise may be formed when I mention that one of the porpoises at the Brighton Aquarium, happening to open its spiracle just beneath an illuminating gas jet fixed over its tank, blew out the light. In the sperm whale the nostrils are placed near the extremity of the nose, and therefore this whale has to raise its snout above the surface when it requires to breathe; but instead of this being necessary, as in the case of the porpoise twice or thrice in a minute, the sperm whale only rises to "blow" at intervals of from an hour to an hour and twenty minutes. Mr. Beale says[74] that in a large bull sperm whale the time consumed in making one expiration and one inspiration is ten seconds, during six of which the nostril is beneath the surface of the water--the expiration occupying three seconds, and the inspiration one second. At each breathing time this whale makes from sixty to seventy expirations, and remains, therefore, at the surface ten or eleven minutes, and then, raising its tail, it descends perpendicularly, head first. In different individuals the time required for performing these several acts varies; but in each they are minutely regular, and this well-known regularity is of considerable use to the fishers, for when a whaler has once noticed the periods of any particular whale which is not alarmed, he knows to a minute when to expect it to come to the surface, and how long it will remain there. The "spout" of the sperm whale differs much from that of other whales. Unlike, for instance, the straight perpendicular twin jets of the "right whale," the single, forward-slanting "spout" of the sperm whale presents a thick curled bush of white mist. Each whale has a different mode and time of breathing, and the form of the "spout" differs accordingly. [74] 'Natural History of the Sperm Whale.' Van Voorst, 1839. It is said that the blowing of the _Beluga_, or "White Whale," is not unmusical at sea, and that when it takes place under water it often makes a peculiar sound which might be mistaken for the whistling of a bird. Hence is derived one of the names given to this whale by sailors--the "Sea-canary." Though I have had opportunities of attentively watching the breathing and other actions in captivity of two specimens of this whale I have never been able to detect the sound alluded to. Besides the opinions cited by Mr. Bell concerning whales spouting water from their blow-holes, we have other evidence which is most clear and definite, and which ought to be convincing. We will take first that of Mr. Beale, who as surgeon on board the "Kent" and "Sarah and Elizabeth," South Sea whalers, passed several seasons amongst sperm whales. He says:--"I can truly say when I find myself in opposition to these old and received notions, that out of the thousands of sperm whales which I have seen during my wanderings in the South and North Pacific Oceans, I have never observed one of them to eject a column of water from the nostril. I have seen them at a distance, and I have been within a few yards of several hundreds of them, and I never saw water pass from the spout-hole. But the column of thick and dense vapour which is certainly ejected is exceedingly likely to mislead the judgment of the casual observer in these matters; and this column does indeed appear very much like a jet of water when seen at the distance of one or two miles on a clear day, because of the condensation of the vapour which takes place the moment it escapes from the nostril, and its consequent opacity, which makes it appear of a white colour, and which is not observed when the whale is close to the spectator. It then appears only like a jet of white steam. The only water in addition is the small quantity that may be lodged in the external fissure of the spout hole, when the animal raises it above the surface to breathe, and which is blown up into the air with the 'spout,' and may probably assist in condensing the vapour of which it is formed.... I have been also very close to the _Balæna mysticetus_ (the Greenland, or Right whale) when it has been feeding and breathing, and yet I never saw even that animal differ in the latter respect from the sperm whale in the nature of the spout.... If the weather is fine and clear, and there is a gentle breeze at the time, the spout may be seen from the masthead of a moderate-sized vessel at the distance of four or five miles." Captain Scoresby, who was a veteran and successful whaler, a good zoologist, and a highly intelligent observer, says:--"A moist vapour mixed with mucus is discharged from the nostrils when the animal breathes; but no water accompanies it unless an expiration of the breath be made under the surface." Dr. Robert Brown, who communicated to the Zoological Society, in May, 1868, a valuable series of observations on the mammals of Greenland, made during his voyages to the Spitzbergen, Iceland, and Jan Mayen Seas, and along the eastern and western shores of Davis's Strait and Baffin's Bay to near the mouth of Smith's Sound, remarks, in a chapter on the Right whale (_Balæna mysticetus_):--"The 'blowing,' so familiar a feature of the _Cetacea_, but especially of the _Mysticetus_ is, quite analogous to the breathing of the higher mammals, and the blow-holes are the homologues of the nostrils. It is most erroneously stated that the whale ejects water from the blow-holes. I have been many times only a few feet from a whale when 'blowing,' and, though purposely observing it, could never see that it ejected from its nostrils anything but the ordinary breath--a fact which might almost have been deduced from analogy. In the cold arctic air this breath is generally condensed, and falls upon those close at hand in the form of a dense spray which may have led seamen to suppose that this vapour was originally ejected in the form of water. Occasionally, when the whale blows just as it is rising out of or sinking in the sea, a little of the superincumbent water may be forced upwards by the column of breath. When the whale is wounded in the lungs, or in any of the blood-vessels immediately supplying them, blood, as might be expected, is ejected in the death-throes along with the breath. When the whaleman sees his prey 'spouting red,' he concludes that its end is not far distant; it is then mortally wounded." Captain F. C. Hall, the commander of the unfortunate "Polaris" Expedition, thus describes, in his 'Life with the Esquimaux,' the spout of a whale:--"What this blowing is like," he says, "may be described by asking if the reader has ever seen the smoke produced by the firing of an old-fashioned flint-lock. If so, then he may understand the 'blow' of a whale--a flash in the pan and all is over." Captain Scammon, an experienced American whaling captain, who, like Scoresby, could wield well both harpoon and pen, in his fine work on 'The Marine Mammals of the North-Western Coast of America,' writes to the same effect. Mr. Herman Melville, who is not a naturalist, but has served before the mast in a sperm-whaler and borne his part in all the hardships and dangers of the chase, writes, in his remarkable book, 'The Whale':--"As for this 'whale-spout' you might almost stand in it, and yet be undecided as to what it is precisely. Nor is it at all prudent for the hunter to be over curious respecting it. For, even when coming into slight contact with the outer vapoury shreds of the jet, which will often happen, your skin will feverishly smart from the acrimony of the thing so touching you. And I know one who, coming into still closer contact with the spout--whether with some scientific object in view or otherwise I cannot say--the skin peeled off from his cheek and arm. Wherefore, among whalemen, the spout is deemed poisonous; they try to evade it. I have heard it said, and I do not much doubt it, that if the jet were fairly spouted into your eyes it would blind you." The only other eye-witness I will cite is Mr. Bartlett, of the Zoological Gardens, whose experience and accuracy as an observer of the habits of animals is unsurpassed. He spent an autumn holiday in accompanying the late Mr. Frank Buckland and his colleagues, Messrs. Walpole and Young, in a tour of inquiry into the condition of the herring fishery in Scotland. When the commissioners left Peterhead, he remained there for a few days as the guest of Captain David Gray, of the steam whaler, "Eclipse," and as it was reported that large whales had been seen in the offing, his host invited him to go in search of them, and pay them a visit in his steam-launch. When about twelve miles out, they saw the whales, which were "finners," at a distance of four or five miles. Fourteen were counted--all large ones--some of which were seventy feet in length. On approaching them the captain shut off steam, and the launch was allowed to float in amongst them. So close were they to the boat that it would not have been difficult to jump upon the back of one of them had that been desirable. Mr. Bartlett tells me that he was greatly astonished by the immense force of the sudden outrush of air from their blow-holes, and the noise by which it was accompanied. He believes that the blast was strong enough to blow a man off the spiracle if he were seated on it. He authorizes me to say that having seen and watched these whales under such favourable circumstances, he entirely agrees with all that I have here written concerning the so-called "spout." The volume of hot, vaporous breath expelled is enormous, and this is accompanied by no small quantity of water, forced up by it when the blow-hole is opened below the surface. An effect similar in appearance to the whale's spout is produced by the breathing of the hippopotamus. When this great beast opens its nostrils beneath the surface, water and spray are driven and scattered upward by the force of the air, but, of course, do not issue from the nasal passages. I have, also, seen this effect produced, though in a less degree, by the breathing of sea-lions. I repeat, therefore, that not a drop of sea-water enters or passes out of the blow-hole of a whale. If the spiracle valve were in a condition to allow it to do so the animal would soon be drowned. Everyone knows the extreme irritation and the horrible feeling of suffocation caused to a human being, whilst eating or drinking, by a crumb or a little liquid "going the wrong way"--that is, being accidentally drawn to the air-passages instead of passing to the oesophagus. If water were to enter the bronchi of a whale it would instantly produce similar discomfort. The neck of a popular error is hard to break; but it is time that one so palpable as that concerning the "spouting" of whales should cease to be promulgated and disseminated by fanciful illustrations of instructive books. THE "SAILING" OF THE NAUTILUS. One of the prettiest fables of the sea is that relating to the Paper Nautilus, the constructor and inhabitant of the delicate and beautiful shell which looks as if it were made of ivory no thicker than a sheet of writing paper. [Illustration: FIG. 27.--THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) SAILING.] It is an old belief that in calm weather it rises from the bottom of the sea, and, elevating its two broadly-expanded arms, spreads to the gentle air, as a sail, the membrane, light as a spider's web, by which they are united; and that, seated in its boat-like shell, it thus floats over the smooth surface of the ocean, steering and paddling with its other arms. Should storm arise or danger threaten, its masts and sail are lowered, its oars laid in, and the frail craft, filling with water, sinks gently beneath the waves. When and where this picturesque idea originated I am unable to discover. It dates far back beyond the range of history; for Aristotle mentions it, and, unfortunately, sanctioned it. With the weight of his honoured name in its favour, this fallacy has maintained its place in popular belief, even to our own times; for the mantle of the great father of natural history, who was generally so marvellously correct, fell on none of his successors; Pliny, and Ælian, and the tribe of compilers who succeeded them, having been more concerned to make their histories sensational than to verify their statements. Naturally, the Paper Nautilus has been the subject of many a poet's verses. Oppian wrote of it in his 'Halieutics':-- "Sail-fish in secret, silent deeps reside, In shape and nature to the preke[75] allied; Close in their concave shells their bodies wrap, Avoid the waves and every storm escape. But not to mirksome depths alone confined; When pleasing calms have stilled the sighing wind, Curious to know what seas above contain, They leave the dark recesses of the main; Now, wanton, to the changing surface haste, View clearer skies, and the pure welkin taste. But slow they, cautious, rise, and, prudent, fear The upper region of the watery sphere; Backward they mount, and as the stream o'erflows, Their convex shells to pressing floods oppose. Conscious, they know that, should they forward move, O'erwhelming waves would sink them from above, Fill the void space, and with the rushing weight, Force down th' inconstants to their former seat. When, first arrived, they feel the stronger blast, They lie supine and skim the liquid waste. The natural barks out-do all human art When skilful floaters play the sailor's part. Two feet they upward raise, and steady keep; These are the masts and rigging of the ship: A membrane stretch'd between supplies the sail, Bends from the masts, and swells before the gale. Two other feet hang paddling on each side, And serve for oars to row and helm to guide. 'Tis thus they sail, pleased with the wanton game, The fish, the sailor, and the ship, the same. But when the swimmers dread some dangers near The sportive pleasure yields to stronger fear. No more they, wanton, drive before the blasts, But strike the sails, and bring down all the masts; The rolling waves their sinking shells o'erflow, And dash them down again to sands below." [75] The octopus. Montgomery also thus exquisitely paraphrases the same idea in his 'Pelican Island':-- "Light as a flake of foam upon the wind, Keel upwards, from the deep emerged a shell, Shaped like the moon ere half her orb is filled. Fraught with young life, it righted as it rose, And moved at will along the yielding water. The native pilot of this little bark Put out a tier of oars on either side, Spread to the wafting breeze a twofold sail, And mounted up, and glided down, the billows In happy freedom, pleased to feel the air, And wander in the luxury of light." Byron mentions the Nautilus in his 'Mutiny of the Bounty' as follows:-- "The tender Nautilus, who steers his prow, The sea-born sailor of his shell canoe, The ocean Mab--the fairy of the sea, Seems far less fragile, and alas! more free. He, when the lightning-winged tornadoes sweep The surge, is safe: his port is in the deep; And triumphs o'er the armadas of mankind Which shake the world, yet crumble in the wind." The very names by which this animal is known to the science which some persons erroneously think must be so hard and dry are poetic. In Aristotle's day it was called the _Nautilus_ or _Nauticus_, "the mariner," and though two thousand two hundred years have passed since the great master wrote, the name still clings to it. As the Pearly Nautilus, a very different animal, also bears that name, Gualtieri perceived the necessity of distinguishing the Paper Nautilus from it, and was followed by Linnæus, who therefore entitled the genus to which the latter belongs, _Argonauta_, after the ship _Argo_, in which Jason and his companions sailed to Colchis to carry off the "Golden Fleece" suspended there in the temple of Mars, and guarded by brazen-hoofed bulls, whose nostrils breathed out fire and death, and by a watchful dragon that never slept. According to the Greek legend, the _Argo_ was named after its builder Argus, the son of Danaus, and was the first ship that ever was built. Oppian ('Halieutics,' book I.) expresses his opinion that the Nautilus served as a model for the man who first conceived the idea of constructing a ship, and embarking on the waters:-- "Ye Powers! when man first felled the stately trees, And passed to distant shores on wafting seas, Whether some god inspired the wondrous thought, Or chance found out, or careful study sought; If humble guess may probably divine, And trace th' improvement to the first design, Some wight of prying search, who wond'ring stood When softer gales had smoothed the dimpled flood, Observed these careless swimmers floating move, And how each blast the easy sailor drove; Hence took the hint, hence formed th' imperfect draught, And ship-like fish the future seaman taught. Then mortals tried the shelving hull to slope, To raise the mast, and twist the stronger rope, To fix the yards, let fly the crowded sails, Sweep through the curling waves, and court auspicious gales." Pope, too, in his 'Essay on Man' (Ep. 3), adopted the idea in his exhortation-- "Learn of the little Nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale." Poetry, like the wizard's spell, can make "A nutshell seem a gilded barge, A sheeling seem a palace large," but the equally enchanting wand of science is able by a touch to dispel the illusion, and cause the object to appear in its true proportions. So with the fiction of the "Paper Sailor." I have elsewhere described the affinities of the Nautili and their place in nature, therefore it will only be necessary for me here to allude to these very briefly, to explain the great and essential difference that exists between the two kinds of Nautilus which are popularly regarded as being one and the same animal. The _Pearly_ Nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_) and the Argonaut, which from having a fragile shell of somewhat similar external form is called the _Paper_ Nautilus, both belong to that great primary group of animals known as the _Mollusca_, and to the class of it called the _Cephalopoda_, from their having their head in the middle of that which is the foot in other mollusks. In the Cephalopoda the foot is split or divided into eight segments in some families, and in others into ten segments, which radiate from the central head, like so many rays. These rays are not only used as feet, but, being highly flexible, are adapted for employment also as prehensile arms, with which their owner captures its prey, and they are rendered more perfect for this purpose by being furnished with suckers which hold firmly to any surface to which they are applied. The Cephalopods which have the foot divided into ten of these segments or arms are called the _Decapoda_, those which have only eight of them are called the _Octopoda_. All of these have _two_ plume-like gills--one on each side--and so are called _Dibranchiata_; and in the eight-armed section of these is the argonaut or Paper Nautilus. Of the Pearly Nautilus and the four-gilled order I shall have more to say by-and-by: at present we will follow the history of the argonaut. [Illustration: FIG. 28--THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) RETRACTED WITHIN ITS SHELL.] Notwithstanding all that has been written of it, it is only within the last fifty years that this has been correctly understood. An eight-armed cuttle was recognised and named _Ocythoe_, which, instead of having, like the common octopus, all of its eight arms thong-like and tapering to a point, had the two dorsal limbs flattened into a broad thin membrane. Although this animal was sometimes seen dead without any covering, it was generally found contained in a thin and slightly elastic univalve shell of graceful form, and bearing some resemblance to an elegantly shaped boat. It did not penetrate to the bottom of this shell; it was not attached to it by any muscular ligament, nor was the shell moulded on its body, nor apparently made to fit it. Hence it was long regarded as doubtful, and even by naturalists so recent and eminent as Dumeril and De Blainville, whether the octopod really secreted the shell, or whether, like the hermit-crab, it borrowed for its protection the shell of some other mollusk. Aristotle left the subject with the faithful acknowledgment: "As to the origin and growth of this shell nothing is yet exactly determined. It appears to be produced like other shells; but even this is not evident, any more than it is whether the animal can live without it." Pliny, as usual, instead of throwing light on the matter, obscured it. He regarded the shell as the property of a gasteropod like the snail, and the octopod as an amateur yachtsman who occasionally went on board and took a trip in the frail craft, and assisted its owner to navigate it for the fun of the thing. This is what he says about it[76]: "Mutianus reports that he saw in the Propontis a shell formed like a little ship, having the poop turned up and the prow pointed. An animal called the _Nauplius_, resembling an octopus, was enclosed in the shell with its owner, for its amusement in the following manner. When the sea is calm the guest lowers his arms, and uses them as oars and a helm, whilst the owner of the shell expands himself to catch the wind; so that one has the pleasure of carrying and sailing, and the other of steering. Thus, these two otherwise senseless animals take their pleasure together; but the meeting them sailing in their shell is a bad omen for mariners, and foretells some great calamity." [76] Naturalis Historia, lib. ix. cap. 30. Although the animal was never found in any other shell, and the shell was never known to contain any other animal, and though, when the shell and the animal were found together they were always of proportionate size, this octopod, as I have said, was looked upon by some conchologists as a pirate who had taken possession of a ship which did not belong to him, until Madame Jeannette Power, a French lady then residing in Messina, having succeeded in keeping alive for a time an argonaut the shell of which had been broken in its capture, discovered that the animal quickly repaired the fracture, and reproduced the portions that had been broken off. Induced by this to make further experiments, she kept a number of living argonauts in cages sunk in the sea near the citadel of Messina, and in 1836 laid before the "Academy" at Catania the following results of her observations of them:-- 1st. That the argonaut constructs the shell which it inhabits. 2nd. That it quits the egg entirely naked, and forms the shell after its birth. 3rd. That it can repair its shell, if necessary, by a fresh deposit of material having the same chemical composition as its original shell. 4th. That this material is secreted by the palmate, or sail, arms, and is laid on the outside of the shell, to the exterior of which these membranous arms are closely applied. Madame Power was mistaken on two points. Firstly, the construction of the shell does not commence after the birth of the animal, but, as has been shown by M. Duvernoy, its rudimentary form is distinctly visible by the aid of the microscope in the embryo, whilst still in the egg; and secondly, she continued to believe in the use of the membranous arms as sails, and of the others as oars. This fallacy was exploded by Captain Sander Rang, an officer of the French navy, and "port-captain" at Algiers, who carefully followed up Madame Power's experiments, and confirmed the more important of them. Thus were set at rest questions which for centuries had divided the opinions of zoologists. The "Paper Nautilus" is, in fact, a female octopod provided with a portable nest, in which to carry about and protect her eggs, instead of brooding over them in some cranny of a rock, or within the recesses of a pile of shells, as does her cousin the octopus. From the membranes of the two flattened and expanded arms she secretes and, if necessary, repairs her shell, and by applying them closely to its outer surface on each side, holds herself within it, for it is not fastened to her body by any attaching muscles. When disturbed or in danger she can loosen her hold, and, leaving her cradle, swim away independently of it. It has been said that, having once left it, she has not the ability nor perhaps the sagacity to re-enter her nest, and resume the guardianship of her eggs.[77] From my own observations of the breeding habits of other octopods I think this most improbable. The use and purpose of the shell of the argonaut will be better understood if I briefly describe what I have witnessed of the treatment of its eggs by its near relative, the octopus. [77] Appendix to Sir Edward Belcher's 'Voyage of the "Samarang,"' by Mr. Arthur Adams, assistant surgeon to the expedition. "The eggs of the octopus," as I have elsewhere said, "when first laid, are small, oval, translucent granules, resembling little grains of rice, not quite an eighth of an inch long. They grow along and around a common stalk, to which every egg is separately attached, as grapes form part of a bunch. Each of the elongated bunches is affixed by a glutinous secretion to the surface of a rock or stone (never to seaweed, as has been erroneously stated), and hangs pendent by its stalk in a long white cluster, like a magnified catkin of the filbert, or, to use Aristotle's simile, like the fruit of the white alder. The length and number of these bunches varies according to the size and condition of the parent. Those produced by a small octopus are seldom more than about three inches long, and from twelve to twenty in number; but a full-grown female will deposit from forty to fifty of such clusters, each about five inches in length. I have counted the eggs of which these clusters are composed, and find that there are about a thousand in each: so that a large octopus produces in one laying, usually extended over three days, a progeny of from 40,000 to 50,000. I have seen an octopus, when undisturbed, pass one of her arms beneath the hanging bunches of her eggs, and, dilating the membrane on each side of it into a boat-shaped hollow, gather and receive them in it as in a trough or cradle which exhibited in its general shape and outline a remarkable similarity to the shell of the argonaut, with the eggs of which octopod its own are almost identical in form and appearance. Then she would caress and gently rub them, occasionally turning towards them the mouth of her flexible exhalent and locomotor tube, like the nozzle of a fireman's hose-pipe, so as to direct upon them a jet of the excurrent water. I believe that the object of this syringing process is to free the eggs from parasitic animalcules, and possibly to prevent the growth of conferva, which, I have found, rapidly overspreads those removed from her attention."[78] [78] 'The Octopus,' 1873, p. 57. It has been suggested that the syringing may be for the purpose of keeping the water surrounding the eggs well aerated; but this is evidently erroneous, for the water ejected from the tube has been previously deprived of its oxygen, and consequently of its health-giving properties, whilst passing over the gills of the parent. Week after week, for fifty days, a brooding octopus will continue to attend to her eggs with the most watchful and assiduous care, seldom leaving them for an instant except to take food, which, without a brief abandonment of her position, would be beyond her reach. Aristotle asserted that while the female is incubating she takes no food. This is incorrect; but in every case of the kind that has come under my observation the mother octopod, whenever she has been obliged to leave her nest, has returned to it as quickly as possible; and so I believe can, and does, the female argonaut to her shell, and that, too, without any difficulty. In her case the numerous clusters of eggs are all united at their origin to one slender and tapering stalk which is fixed by a spot of glutinous matter to the body-whorl of the spiral shell. [Illustration: FIG. 29.--THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) CRAWLING.] This "paper-sailor," then, whom the poets have regarded as endowed with so much grace and beauty, and living in luxurious ease, is but a fine lady octopus after all. Turn her out of her handsome residence, and, instead of the fairy skimmer of the seas, you have before you an object apparently as free from loveliness and romance as her sprawling, uncanny-looking, relative. Instead of floating in her pleasure boat over the surface of the sea, the argonaut ordinarily crawls along the bottom, carrying her shell above her, keel uppermost; and the broad extremities of the two arms are not hoisted as sails, nor allowed when at rest to dangle over the side of the "boat;" but are used as a kind of hood by which the animal retains the shell in its proper position, as a man bearing a load on his shoulders holds it with his hands. When she comes to the surface, or progresses by swimming instead of walking, she does so in the same manner as the octopus: namely, by the forcible expulsion of water from her funnel-like tube. But if truth compels us to deprive her of the counterfeit halo conferred on her by poets, we can award her, on behalf of science, a far nobler crown; namely, that of the Queen of the whole great Invertebrate Animal Kingdom. For, the _Cephalopoda_, of which the argonaut is a highly organised member, are not only the highest in their own division, the _Mollusca_, but they are as far superior to all other animals which have no backbones, as man stands lord and king over all created beings that possess them. [Illustration: FIG. 30.--THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_) SWIMMING.] [Illustration: FIG. 31.--SHELL OF THE PAPER NAUTILUS (_Argonauta argo_).] Although in outward shape the spiral shell of the Pearly Nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_) somewhat resembles that of the argonaut, its internal structure is very different. A section of it shows that it is divided into several chambers, each of which is partitioned off from the adjoining ones, the last formed or external one, in which the animal lives, being much larger than the rest. The object and mode of construction of these chambers is as follows. As the animal grows, a constant secretion of new material takes place on the edge of the shell. By this unceasing process of the addition of new shell in the form of a circular curve or coil around the older portion, the whole rapidly increases in size, both in diameter, and in the length of the chamber. The Nautilus, requiring to keep the secreting portion of its mantle applied to the lip of the shell, finds the chamber in which it dwells gradually becoming inconveniently long for it, and therefore builds up a wall behind itself, and continues its work of enlarging its premises in front. Each of these walls, concave in front, towards the mouth of the shell, and concave behind, acts as a strong girder and support of the arch of the shell against the inward pressure of deep water: and it was formerly supposed that each successive chamber so constructed and vacated remained filled with air, and _thus_ became an additional float by which the constantly increasing weight of the growing shell was counter-balanced. By this beautiful adjustment of augmented floating power to increased weight, the buoyancy of the shell would be secured and its specific gravity maintained as nearly as possible equal to that of the surrounding water. This adjustment does probably take place, but in a somewhat different manner. As the Nautilus inhabits a depth of from twenty to forty fathoms, it is evident that the air within its shell would be displaced by the pressure of such a column of water.[79] Accordingly, in every instance of the capture of a Nautilus the chambers of its shell have been found filled with water. It is not improbable that the fluid they contain may be less compressed, and exert less pressure from within outwards than that of the external superincumbent column of water, and that by this unbalanced pressure--under the same hydro-dynamic law which governs its mode of self-propulsion when swimming, and possibly in some degree within the control of the animal--the latter is relieved of much of the weight of its shell. When the Nautilus is at the bottom of the sea its movement is like that of a snail crawling along upon the ground with its shell above it. The shell, in proportion to the size of the animal that inhabits it, is a heavy one, and unless it were rendered semi-buoyant, its owner's strength would be severely taxed by the effort to drag it along. By the means indicated this portable domicile is borne lightly above the body of the Nautilus, without in any way impeding its progress. [79] "At 100 fathoms the pressure exceeds 265 lbs. to the square inch. Empty bottles, securely corked, and sunk with weights beyond 100 fathoms, are always crushed. If filled with liquid the cork is driven in, and the liquid replaced by salt water; and in drawing the bottle up again the cork is returned to the neck of the bottle, generally in a reversed position."--Sir F. Beaufort, quoted by Dr. S. P. Woodward in his 'Manual of the Mollusca.' [Illustration: FIG. 32.--SHELL OF THE PEARLY NAUTILUS (_Nautilus pompilius_).] [Illustration: FIG. 33.--THE PEARLY NAUTILUS (_Nautilus pompilius_), AND SECTION OF ITS SHELL. _After Professor Owen._ _a a_, Partitions; _b b_, chambers; _b'_, the last-formed chamber, in which the animal lives; _c c_, the siphuncle; _d_, attaching muscle; _e e_, the hollow arms; _f f_, retractile tentacles; _g_, muscular disk, or foot; _h_, the eye; _i_, position of funnel.] The chambers are all connected by a membranous tube slightly coated with nacre, which is connected with a large sac in the body of the animal, near the heart, and passes through a circular orifice and a short projecting tube in the centre of each partition wall, till it ends in the smallest chamber at the inner extremity of the shell. Dean Buckland believed this "syphon" to be an hydraulic apparatus acting as a "fine adjustment" of the specific gravity of the shell, by admitting water within it when expanded, and excluding it when contracted. As it contains an artery and vein near its origin at the mantle, Professor Owen has regarded it as subservient to the maintenance of a low vitality in the vacated portion of the shell. Dr. Henry Woodward is of the opinion that, whilst in the early life of the Nautilus this siphuncle forms the main point of attachment between the animal and its shell, it is in the adult "simply an aborted embryonal organ whose function is now filled by the shell-muscles, but which in the more ancient and straight-shelled representatives of the group (the Orthoceratites) was not merely an embryonal but an important organ in the adult." Every one knows the shell of the Pearly Nautilus. It may be purchased at any shell-shop in a seaside watering-place, and is imported by hundreds every year from Singapore.[80] It is abundant in the waters of the Indian Archipelago, especially about the Molucca and Philippine Islands, and on the shores of New Caledonia and the Fiji and Solomon Islands. It has also been found alive on Pemba Island, near Zanzibar. It seems strange, therefore, that until about half a century ago hardly anything was known of the animal that secretes and inhabits it. Rumphius, a Dutch naturalist, in his 'Rarities of Amboyna,' published, in 1705, a description of one with an engraving, incorrect in drawing, and deficient in detail; and until 1832 this was the only information which existed concerning it. The great Cuvier never saw one, and being acquainted only with the two-gilled cephalopods, he regarded the head-footed mollusks as absolutely isolated from all other animals in the kingdom of nature, even from the other classes of the mollusca. It seemed, however, to Professor Owen, then only nineteen years of age, that in the only living representative of the four-gilled order, _Nautilus pompilius_, might be found the "missing link." When, therefore, in the year 1824, his fellow-student, Mr. George Bennett, was about to sail from England to the Polynesian Islands, young Richard Owen earnestly charged his friend to do his utmost to obtain, and bring home in alcohol, a specimen of the much-coveted Pearly Nautilus. The opportunity did not occur till one warm and calm Monday evening, the 24th of August, 1829, when a living Nautilus was seen at the surface of the water not far distant from the ship, in Marekini Bay, on the south-west coast of the Island of Erromango, New Hebrides, in the South Pacific Ocean. It looked like a dead tortoise-shell cat, as the sailors said. As it began to sink as soon as it was observed, it was struck at with a boat-hook, and was thus so much injured that it died shortly after being taken on board the ship. The shell was destroyed, but the soft body of the animal was preserved in spirits, and great was the joy of Mr. Owen when, in July, 1831, Mr. Bennett arrived with it in England, and presented it to the Royal College of Surgeons. Mr. Owen was then Assistant-Conservator of the Museum of the College under Mr. Clift, who was afterwards his father-in-law. He immediately commenced to anatomise, describe, and figure his rare acquisition, and in the early part of 1832 published the result of his work in the form of a masterly treatise, which proved to be the foundation of his future fame.[81] [80] I need hardly say that before the nacreous layer of the shell from which this animal takes its name is made visible, an outer deposit of dense calcareous matter has to be removed by hydrochloric acid: the pearly surface thus exposed is then easily polished. [81] It is so interesting to most of us to know something of the early work of our greatest men, and of the tide in their affairs, which, taken at the flood, led on to fortune, that I hope I may be excused for referring to the period when the distinguished chief of the Natural History Department of the British Museum, the great comparative anatomist, the unrivalled palæontologist, the illustrious physiologist, the venerable and venerated friend of all earnest students, was beginning to attract the attention, and to receive the approbation of his seniors as a promising young worker. In Messrs. Griffith and Pidgeon's Supplement to Cuvier's 'Mollusca and Radiata,' published in 1834, the treatise in question is thus mentioned: "We have much pleasure in referring to a most excellent memoir on _Nautilus pompilius_, by Mr. Owen, with elaborate figures of the animal, its shell, and various parts, published by direction of the Council of the College of Surgeons. The reader will find the most satisfactory information on the subject, and the scientific public will earnestly hope that the present volume will be the first of a similar series." This hope has been more than fulfilled. Dean Buckland, in his 'Bridgewater Treatise,' wrote of this work: "I rejoice in the present opportunity of bearing testimony to the value of Professor Owen's highly philosophical and most admirable memoir--a work not less creditable to the author than honourable to the Royal College of Surgeons, under whose auspices the publication has been so handsomely conducted." Mr. Owen's investigations confirmed his previous supposition that the Pearly Nautilus is inferior in its organisation to octopus, sepia, or any other known cephalopod; that it is not isolated, but that it recedes towards the gasteropods, to which belong the snail, the periwinkle, &c., and that in some of its characters its structure is analogously related to the still lower _annulosa_, or worms. Mr. Owen was just about to start for Paris with the intention of presenting a copy of his book to his celebrated contemporary and friend, and of showing him his dissections of the Nautilus which had been the subject of his research, when he heard of Baron Cuvier's death. It must have been to him a great sorrow and a grievous disappointment. The Pearly Nautilus, then, is a true cephalopod, in that it has its foot divided and arranged in segments around its head, but the form and number of these segments are very different from those of any other of its class. Instead of there being eight, as in the argonaut and octopus, or ten, as in sepia and the calamaries, the Nautilus has about ninety projecting in every direction from around the mouth. They are short, round, and tapering, of about the length and thickness of the fingers of a child. Some of them are retractile into sheaths, and they are attached to fleshy processes (which might represent the child's hand), overlying each other, and covering the mouth on each side. They have none of the suckers with which the arms and tentacles of all the other cuttles are furnished, but their annulose structure, like the rings of an earthworm's body, gives them some little prehensile power. None of these numerous finger-like segments of the foot are flattened out like the broad membranous expansions of the argonaut, and, in fact, the Nautilus is without any members which can possibly be regarded as sails to hoist, or as oars with which to row. It has a strong beak, like the rest of the cuttles; but it has no ink-sac, for its shell is strong enough to afford it the protection which its two-gilled relatives have to seek in concealment. The Pearly Nautilus usually creeps, like a snail, along the bed of the sea. It lives at the bottom, and feeds at the bottom, principally on crabs; and, as Dr. S. P. Woodward says, in his 'Manual of the Mollusca,' "perhaps often lies in wait for them, like some gigantic sea-anemone, with outspread tentacles." The shape of its shell is not well adapted for swimming, but it can ascend to the surface, if it so please, in the same manner as can all the cuttles--namely, by the outflow of water from its locomotor tube. The statement that it visits the surface of the sea of its own accord is at present, however, unconfirmed by observation. But, if the Pearly Nautilus is the inferior and poor relation of the argonaut, it lives in a handsome house, and comes of an ancient lineage. The Ammonites, whose beautiful whorled and chambered shells, and the casts of them, are so abundant in every stratum, especially in the lias, the chalk, and the oolite, had four gills also. These Ammonites and the Nautili were amongst the earliest occupants of the ancient deep; and, with the Hamites, Turrilites, and others, lived upon our earth during a great portion of the incalculable period which has elapsed since it became fitted for animal existence, and in their time witnessed the rise and fall of many an animal dynasty. But they are gone now; and only the fossil relics of more than two thousand species (of which 188 were Nautili) remain to tell how important a race they were amongst the inhabitants of the old world seas. They and their congeners of the chambered shells, however, left one representative which has lived on through all the changes that have taken place on the surface of this globe since they became extinct--namely, _Nautilus pompilius_, the Nautilus of the pearly shell--the last of the Tetrabranchs. I need offer no apology for endeavouring to explain the difference between the Nautilus of the chambered shell and the argonaut with the membranous arms which it was supposed to use as sails, when Webster, in his great standard dictionary, describes the one and figures the other as one and the same animal; and when a writer of the celebrity of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes also blends the two in the following poem, containing a sentiment as exquisite as its science is erroneous. I hope the latter distinguished and accomplished author, whose delightful writings I enjoy and highly appreciate, will pardon my criticism. I admit that the beauty of the thought might well atone for its inaccuracy, (of which the author is conscious,) were it not that the latter is made so attractive that truth appears harsh in disturbing it. "THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS." "This is the ship of pearl, which poets feign Sails the unshadowed main, The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings, In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl, Wrecked is the ship of pearl! And every chambered cell, Where its dim, dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Before thee lies revealed, Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed! Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap forlorn! From the dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathèd horn! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:-- 'Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low vaulted past; Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea.'" BARNACLE GEESE--GOOSE BARNACLES. The belief that some wild geese, instead of being hatched from eggs, like other birds, grew on trees and rotten wood has never been surpassed as a specimen of ignorant credulity and persistent error. There are two principal versions of this absurd notion. One is that certain trees, resembling willows, and growing always close to the sea, produced at the ends of their branches fruit in form like apples, and each containing the embryo of a goose, which, when the fruit was ripe, fell into the water and flew away. The other is that the geese were bred from a fungus growing on rotten timber floating at sea, and were first developed in the form of worms in the substance of the wood. When and whence this improbable theory had its origin is uncertain. Aristotle does not mention it, and consequently Pliny and Ælian were deprived of the pleasure they would have felt in handing down to posterity, without investigation or correction, a statement so surprising. It is, comparatively, a modern myth; although we find that it was firmly established in the middle of the twelfth century, for Gerald de Barri, known in literature as Giraldus Cambrensis, mentions it in his 'Topographia Hiberniæ,' published in 1187. Giraldus, who was Archdeacon of Brecknock in the reign of Henry II., and tried hard, more than once, for the bishopric of St. David's, the functions of which he had temporarily administered without obtaining the title, was a vigorous and zealous reformer of Church abuses. Amongst the laxities of discipline against which he found it necessary to protest was the custom then prevailing of eating these Barnacle geese during Lent, under the plea that their flesh was not that of birds, but of fishes. He writes:-- "There are here many birds which are called Bernacæ, which nature produces in a manner contrary to nature, and very wonderful. They are like marsh-geese but smaller. They are produced from fir-timber tossed about at sea, and are at first like geese upon it. Afterwards they hang down by their beaks, as if from a sea-weed attached to the wood, and are enclosed in shells that they may grow the more freely. Having thus, in course of time, been clothed with a strong covering of feathers, they either fall into the water, or seek their liberty in the air by flight. The embryo geese derive their growth and nutriment from the moisture of the wood or of the sea, in a secret and most marvellous manner. I have seen with my own eyes more than a thousand minute bodies of these birds hanging from one piece of timber on the shore, enclosed in shells and already formed. Their eggs are not impregnated _in coitu_, like those of other birds, nor does the bird sit upon its eggs to hatch them, and in no corner of the world have they been known to build a nest. Hence the bishops and clergy in some parts of Ireland are in the habit of partaking of these birds on fast days, without scruple. But in doing so they are led into sin. For, if any one were to eat of the leg of our first parent, although he (Adam) was not born of flesh, that person could not be adjudged innocent of eating flesh." This fable of the geese appears, however, to have been current at least a hundred years before Giraldus wrote, for Professor Max Müller, who treats of it in one of his "Lectures on the Science of Language," amongst many interesting references there given, quotes a Cardinal of the eleventh century, Petrus Damianus, who clearly describes, that version of it which represents the birds as bursting, when fully fledged, from fruit resembling apples. It is a curious fact that these Barnacle geese have troubled the priesthood of more than one creed as to the instructions they should give to the laity concerning the use of them as food. The Jews--all those, at least, who maintain a strict observance of the Hebrew Law--eat no meat but that of animals which have been slaughtered in a certain prescribed manner; and a doubt arose amongst them at the period we refer to, whether these geese should be killed as flesh or as fish. Professor Max Müller cites Mordechai,[82] as asking whether these birds are fruits, fish, or flesh; that is, whether they must be killed in the Jewish way, as if they were flesh. Mordechai describes them as birds which grow on trees, and says, "the Rabbi Jehuda, of Worms (who died 1216) used to say that he had heard from his father, Rabbi Samuel, of Speyer (about 1150), that Rabbi Jacob Tham, of Ramerü (who died 1171), the grandson of the great Rabbi Rashi (about 1140), had decided that they must be killed as flesh." [82] Riva, 1559, leaf 142. Pope Innocent III. took the same view; for at the Lateran Council, in 1215, he prohibited the eating of Barnacle geese during Lent. In 1277, Rabbi Izaak, of Corbeil, determined to be on the safe side, forbade altogether the eating of these birds by the Jews, "because they were neither flesh nor fish." Michael Bernhard Valentine,[83] quoting Wormius, says that this question caused much perplexity and disputation amongst the doctors of the Sorbonne; but that they passed an ordinance that these geese should be classed as fishes, and not as birds; and he adds, that in consequence of this decision large numbers of these birds were annually sent to Paris from England and Scotland, for consumption in Lent. Sir Robert Sibbald[84] refers to this, and says that Normandy was the locality from which the French capital was reported to be principally supplied; but that in fact the greater number of these geese came from Holland. The date of this edict is not given. [83] 'Historia Simplicium,' lib. iii. p. 327. [84] Prodrom. Hist. Nat. Scot. parts 2, lib. iii. p. 21, 1684. Professor Max Müller says that in Brittany, Barnacle geese are still allowed to be eaten on Fridays, and that the Roman Catholic Bishop of Ferns may give permission to people out of his diocese to eat these birds at his table. In Bombay, also, where fish is prohibited as food to some classes of the population, the priests call this goose a "sea-vegetable," under which name it is allowed to be eaten. Various localities were mentioned as the breeding-places of these arboreal geese. Gervasius of Tilbury,[85] writing about 1211, describes the process of their generation in full detail, and says that great numbers of them grew in his time upon the young willow trees which abounded in the neighbourhood of the Abbey of Faversham, in the county of Kent, and within the Archiepiscopate of Canterbury. The bird was there commonly called the _Barneta_. [85] Otia Imperialia, iii. 123. Hector Boethius, or Boece, the old Scottish historian, combats this version of the story. His work, written in Latin, in 1527, was translated into quaint Scottish in 1540, by John Bellenden, Archdeacon of Murray. In his fourteenth chapter, "Of the nature of claik geis, and of the syndry maner of thair procreatioun, and of the ile of Thule," he says:-- "Restis now to speik of the geis generit of the see namit clakis. Sum men belevis that thir clakis growis on treis be the nebbis. Bot thair opinioun is vane. And becaus the nature and procreatioun of thir clakis is strange we have maid na lytyll laubore and deligence to serche ye treuth and verite yairof, we have salit throw ye seis quhare thir clakis ar bred, and I fynd be gret experience, that the nature of the seis is mair relevant caus of thir procreatioun than ony uther thyng." From the circumstances attending the finding of "ane gret tree that was brocht be alluvion and flux of the see to land, in secht of money pepyll besyde the castell of Petslego, in the yeir of God ane thousand iiii. hundred lxxxx, and of a see tangle hyngand full of mussill schellis," brought to him by "Maister Alexander Galloway, person of Kynkell," who knowing him to be "richt desirus of sic uncouth thingis came haistely with the said tangle," he arrives at the conclusion, by a process of reasoning highly satisfactory and convincing to himself, that, "Be thir and mony othir resorcis and examplis we can not beleif that thir clakis ar producit be ony nature of treis or rutis thairof, but allanerly be the nature of the Oceane see, quhilk is the caus and production of mony wonderful thingis. And becaus the rude and ignorant pepyl saw oftymes the fruitis that fel of the treis (quhilkis stude neir the see) convertit within schort tyme in geis, thai belevit that thir geis grew apon the treis hingand be thair nebbis sic lik as appillis and uthir frutis hingis be thair stalkis, bot thair opinioun is nocht to be sustenit. For als sone as thir appillis or frutis fallis of the tre in the see flude thay grow first wormeetin. And be schort process of tyme are alterat in geis." In describing the bird thus produced, Boethius declares that the male has a sharp, pointed beak, like the gallinaceous birds, but that in the female the beak is obtuse as in other geese and ducks. According to other authors, this wonderful production of birds from living or dead timber was not confined to England and Scotland. Vincentius Bellovacensis[86] (1190-1264) in his 'Speculum Naturæ,' xvii. 40, states that it took place in Germany, and Jacob de Vitriaco (who died 1244) mentions its occurrence in certain parts of Flanders. [86] For this quotation and the following one I am indebted to Professor Max Müller's Lecture before referred to. Jonas Ramus gives a somewhat different version of the process as it occurs in Norway. He writes:[87] "It is said that a particular sort of geese is found in Nordland, which leave their seed on old trees, and stumps and blocks lying in the sea; and that from that seed there grows a shell fast to the trees, from which shell, as from an egg, by the heat of the sun, young geese are hatched, and afterwards grow up; which gave rise to the fable that geese grow upon trees." [87] 'Chorographical Description of Norway,' p. 244. But, strange to say, if any painstaking enquirer, wishing to investigate the matter for himself, went to a locality where it was said the phenomenon regularly occurred, he was sure to find that he had literally, "started on a wild-goose chase," and had come to the wrong place. This was the experience of Æneas Sylvius Piccolomini, afterwards Pope Pius II., who complained that miracles will always flee farther and farther away; for when he was on a visit (about 1430) to King James I., of Scotland,[88] and enquired after the tree which he most eagerly desired to see, he was told that it grew much farther north, in the Orkney Islands. [88] Æneas Sylvius gives us information concerning the personal appearance of his royal host, whom he describes as, "_hominem quadratum et multa pinguedine gravem_,"--literally, "a square-built man, heavy with much fat." Notwithstanding the suspicious fact that the prodigy receded like Will o' the Wisp, whenever it was persistently followed up, Sebastian Munster, who relates[89] the foregoing anecdote of Æneas Sylvius, appears to have entertained no doubt of the truth of the report, for he writes:-- [89] 'Cosmographia Universalis,' p. 49, 1572. [Illustration: FIG. 34.--THE GOOSE TREE. _Copied from Gerard's 'Herball,' 1st edition._[90]] [90] The original of this picture is a small wood-cut in Matthias de Lobel's 'Stirpium Historia,' published in 1870. The birds within the shells were added by Gerard. Aldrovandus, in copying it, gave leaves to the tree, as shown on page 110. "In Scotland there are trees which produce fruit, conglomerated of their leaves; and this fruit, when in due time it falls into the water beneath it, is endowed with new life, and is converted into a living bird, which they call the 'tree-goose.' This tree grows in the Island of Pomonia, which is not far from Scotland, towards the north. Several old cosmographers, especially Saxo Grammaticus, mention the tree, and it must not be regarded as fictitious, as some new writers suppose." Julius Cæsar Scaliger[91] (1540) gives another reading of the legend, in which it is asserted that the leaves which fall from the tree into the water are converted into fishes, and those which fall upon the land become birds. [91] Exercit. 59, sect. 2. Thus this extraordinary belief held sway, and remained strong and invincible, although from time to time some man of sense and independent thought attempted to turn the tide of popular error. Albertus Magnus (who died 1280) showed its absurdity, and declared that he had seen the bird referred to lay its eggs and hatch them in the ordinary way. Roger Bacon (who died in 1294) also contradicted it, and Belon, in 1551, treated it with ridicule and contempt. Olaus Wormius[92] seems to have believed in it, though he wrote cautiously about it. Olaus Magnus (1553) mentions it, and apparently accepts it as a fact, occurring in the Orkneys, on the authority of "a Scotch historian who diligently sets down the secrets of things," and then dismisses it in three lines. [92] 'Museum,' p. 257. Passing over many other writers on the subject, we come to the time of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when (in 1597) "John Gerarde, Master in Chirurgerie, London," published his "Herball, or Generall Historie of Plants gathered by him," and in the last chapter thereof solemnly declared, that he had actually witnessed the transformation of "certaine shell fish" into Barnacle Geese, as follows. _Of the Goose tree, Barnacle tree, or the tree bearing Geese._ _Britanicæ Conchæ anatiferæ._ THE BREED OF BARNACLES. ¶ _The Description._ Hauing trauelled from the Grasses growing in the bottome of the fenny waters, the Woods, and mountaines, euen vnto Libanus itselfe; and also the sea, and bowels of the same, wee are arriued at the end of our History; thinking it not impertinent to the conclusion of the same, to end with one of the maruels of this land (we may say of the World). The history whereof to set forth according to the worthinesse and raritie thereof, would not only require a large and peculiar volume, but also a deeper search into the bowels of Nature, then my intended purpose will suffer me to wade into, my sufficiencie also considered; leauing the History thereof rough hewen, vnto some excellent man, learned in the secrets of nature, to be both fined and refined; in the meane space take it as it falleth out, the naked and bare truth, though vnpolished. There are found in the North parts of Scotland and the Islands adjacent, called Orchades, certaine trees whereon do grow certaine shells of a white colour tending to russet, wherein are contained little liuing creatures: which shells in time of maturity doe open, and out of them grow those little liuing things, which falling into the water do become fowles, which we call Barnacles; in the North of England, brant Geese; and in Lancashire, tree Geese: but the other that do fall vpon the land perish and come to nothing. Thus much by the writings of others, and also from the mouthes of people of those parts, which may very well accord with truth. But what our eies haue seene, and hands haue touched we shall declare. There is a small Island in Lancashire, called the Pile of Foulders, wherein are found the broken pieces of old and bruised ships some whereof haue beene cast thither by shipwracke, and also the trunks and bodies with the branches of old and rotten trees, cast vp there likewise; whereon is found a certaine spume or froth that in time breedeth vnto certaine shells, in shape like those of the Muskle, but sharper pointed, and of a whitish colour; wherein is contained a thing in forme like a lace of silke finely wouen as it were together, of a whitish colour, one end whereof is fastened vnto the inside of the shell, euen as the fish of Oisters and Muskles are: the other end is made fast vnto the belly of a rude masse or lumpe, which in time commeth to the shape and forme of a Bird: when it is perfectly formed the shell gapeth open, and the first thing that appeareth is the foresaid lace or string; next come the legs of the bird hanging out, and as it groweth greater it openeth the shell by degrees, til at length it is all come forth, and hangeth onely by the bill: in short space after it commeth to full maturitie, and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth feathers, and groweth to a fowle bigger than a Mallard, and lesser than a Goose, hauing blacke legs and bill or beake, and feathers blacke and white, spotted in such manner as is our Magpie, called in some places a Pie-Annet, which the people of Lancashire call by no other name than a tree Goose: which place aforesaid, and all those parts adjoyning do so much abound therewith, that one of the best is bought for three pence. For the truth hereof, if any doubt, may it please them to repaire vnto me, and I shall satisfie them by the testimonie of good witnesses. Moreover, it should seeme that there is another sort hereof; the History of which is true, and of mine owne knowledge; for trauelling vpon the shore of our English coast betweene Douer and Rumney, I found the trunke of an old rotten tree, which (with some helpe that I procured by Fishermen's wiues that were there attending their husbands' returne from the sea) we drew out of the water vpon dry land; vpon this rotten tree I found growing many thousands of long crimson bladders, in shape like vnto puddings newly filled, before they be sodden, which were very cleere and shining; at the nether end whereof did grow a shell fish, fashioned somewhat like a small Muskle, but much whiter, resembling a shell fish that groweth vpon the rockes about Garnsey and Garsey, called a Lympit: many of these shells I brought with me to London, which after I had opened I found in them liuing things without forme or shape; in others which were neerer come to ripenesse I found liuing things that were very naked, in shape like a Bird: in others, the Birds couered with soft downe, the shell halfe open, and the Bird ready to fall out, which no doubt were the Fowles called Barnacles. I dare not absolutely auouch euery circumstance of the first part of this history, concerning the tree that beareth those buds aforesaid, but will leaue it to a further consideration; howbeit, that which I haue seene with mine eies, and handled with mine hands, I dare confidently auouch, and boldly put downe for verity. Now if any will object that this tree which I saw might be one of those before mentioned, which either by the waues of the sea or some violent wind had beene ouerturned as many other trees are; or that any trees falling into those seas about the Orchades, will of themselves bear the like Fowles, by reason of those seas and waters, these being so probable conjectures, and likely to be true, I may not without prejudice gainsay, or endeauour to confute. ¶ _The Place._ The bordes and rotten plankes whereon are found these shels breeding the Barnakle, are taken vp in a small Island adioyning to Lancashire, halfe a mile from the main land, called the Pile of Foulders. ¶ _The Time._ They spawn as it were in March and Aprill; the Geese are formed in May and June, and come to fulnesse of feathers in the moneth after. And thus hauing through God's assistance discoursed somewhat at large of Grasses, Herbes, Shrubs, Trees, and Mosses, and certaine Excrescenses of the Earth, with other things moe, incident to the historie thereof, we conclude and end our present Volume, with this wonder of England. For the which God's name be euer honored and praised. Gerard was probably a good botanist and herbalist; but Thomas Johnson, the editor of a subsequent issue of his book, tells us that "He, out of a propense good will to the publique advancement of this knowledge, endeavoured to performe therein more than he could well accomplish, which was partly through want of sufficient learning; but," he adds, "let none blame him for these defects, seeing he was neither wanting in pains nor good will to performe what hee intended: and there are none so simple but know that heavie burthens are with most paines vndergone by the weakest men; and although there are many faults in the worke, yet iudge well of the Author; for, as a late writer well saith:--'To err and to be deceived is human, and he must seek solitude who wishes to live only with the perfect.'" It is difficult to comply with the request to think well of one who, writing as an authority, deliberately promulgated, with an affectation of piety, that which he must have known to be untrue, and who was, moreover, a shameless plagiarist; for Gerard's ponderous book is little more than a translation of Dodonæus, whole chapters having been taken verbatim from that comparatively unread author without acknowledgment. After this series of erroneous observations, self-delusion, and ignorant credulity, it is refreshing to turn to the pages of the two little thick quarto volumes of Gaspar Schott.[93] This learned Jesuit made himself acquainted with everything that had been written on the subject, and besides the authors I have referred to, quotes and compares the statements of Majolus, Abrahamus Ortelius, Hieronymus Cardanus, Eusebius, Nierembergius, Deusingius, Odoricus, Gerhardus de Vera, Ferdinand of Cordova, and many others. He then gives, firmly and clearly, his own opinion that the assertion that birds in Britain spring from the fruit or leaves of trees, or from wood, or from fungus, or from shells, is without foundation, and that neither reason, experience, nor authority tend to confirm it. He concedes that worms may be bred in rotting timber, and even that they may be of a kind that fly away on arriving at maturity (referring probably to caterpillars being developed into moths), but that birds should be thus generated, he says, is simply the repetition of a vulgar error, for not one of the authors whom he has examined has seen what they all affirm; nor are they able to bring forward a single eye-witness of it. He asks how it can be possible that animals so large and so highly-organised as these birds can grow from puny animalcules generated in putrid wood. He further declares that these British geese are hatched from eggs like other geese, which he considers proved by the testimony of Albertus Magnus, Gerhardus de Vera, and of Dutch seamen, who, in 1569, gave their written declaration that they had personally seen these birds sitting on their eggs, and hatching them, on the coasts of Nova Zembla. [93] 'Physica Curiosa, sive Mirabilia Naturæ et Artis,' 1662, lib. ix. cap. xxii. p. 960. [Illustration: FIG. 35.--THE BARNACLE GOOSE TREE. _After Aldrovandus._] In marked and disgraceful contrast with this careful and philosophical investigation and its author's just deductions from it, is 'A Relation concerning Barnacles by Sir Robert Moray, lately one of His Majesty's Council for the Kingdom of Scotland,' read before the Royal Society, and published in the 'Philosophical Transactions,' No. 137, January and February, 1677-8. [Illustration: FIG. 36.--DEVELOPMENT OF BARNACLES INTO GEESE. _After Aldrovandus._] Describing "a cut of a large Firr-tree of about two and a half feet diameter, and nine or ten feet long," which he saw on the shore in the Western Islands of Scotland, and which had become so dry that many of the Barnacle shells with which it had been covered had been rubbed off, he says:-- "Only on the parts that lay next the ground there still hung multitudes of little Shells, having within them little Birds, perfectly shap'd, supposed to be Barnacles. The Shells hung very thick and close one by another, and were of different sizes. Of the colour and consistence of Muscle-Shells, and the sides and joynts of them joyned with such a kind of film as Muscle-Shells are, which serves them for a Hing to move upon, when they open and shut.... The Shells hang at the Tree by a Neck longer than the Shell, of a kind of Filmy substance, round, and hollow, and creased, not unlike the Wind-pipe of a chicken, spreading out broadest where it is fastened to the Tree, from which it seems to draw and convey the matter which serves for the growth and vegetation of the Shell and the little Bird within it. This Bird in every Shell that I opened, as well the least as the biggest, I found so curiously and compleatly formed, that there appeared nothing wanting as to internal parts, for making up a perfect Seafowl: every little part appearing so distinctly that the whole looked like a large Bird seen through a concave or diminishing glass, colour and feature being everywhere so clear and neat. The little Bill, like that of a Goose; the eyes marked; the Head, Neck, Breast, Wings, Tail, and Feet formed, the Feathers everywhere perfectly shap'd, and blackish coloured; and the Feet like those of other Water-fowl, to my best remembrance. All being dead and dry, I did not look after the internal parts of them. Nor did I ever see any of the little Birds alive, nor met with anybody that did. Only some credible persons have assured me they have seen some as big as their fist." It seems almost incredible that little more than two hundred years ago this twaddle should not only have been laid before the highest representatives of science in the land, but that it should have been printed in their "Transactions" for the further delusion of posterity. Ray, in his edition of Willughby's Ornithology, published in the same year as the above, contradicted the fallacy as strongly as Gaspar Schott; and (except that he incidentally admits the possibility of spontaneous generation in some of the lower animals, as insects and frogs) in language so similar that I think he must have had Schott's work before him when he wrote. Aldrovandus[94] tells us that an Irish priest, named Octavianus, assured him with an oath on the Gospels that he had seen and handled the geese in their embryo condition; and he adds that he "would rather err with the majority than seem to pass censure on so many eminent writers who have believed the story." [94] 'Ornithologia,' lib. xix. p. 173, ed. 1603. In 1629 Count Maier (Michaelus Meyerus--these old authors when writing in Latin, latinized their names also) published a monograph 'On the Tree-bird'[95] in which he explains the process of its birth, and states that he opened a hundred of the goose-bearing shells and found the rudiments of the bird fully formed. So slow Bootes underneath him sees, In th' icy isles, those goslings hatched on trees, Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water, Are turned, they say, to living fowls soon after; So rotten sides of broken ships do change, To barnacles, O, transformation strange! 'Twas first a green tree; then a gallant hull; Lately a mushroom; then a flying gull.[96] [95] 'De Volucri Arborea,' 1629. [96] Du Bartas' "Divine Week" p. 228. Joshua Sylvester's translation. Now, let us turn from fiction to facts. [Illustration: FIG 37.--SECTION OF A SESSILE BARNACLE. _Balanus tintinnabulum._] Almost every one is acquainted with at least one kind of the Barnacle shells which were supposed to enclose the embryo of a goose, namely the small white conical hillocks which are found, in tens of thousands, adhering to stones, rocks, and old timber such as the piles of piers, and may be seen affixed to the shells of oysters and mussels in any fishmonger's shop. The little animals which secrete and inhabit these shells belong to a sub-class and order of the Crustacea, called the _Cirrhopoda_, because their feet (_poda_), which in the crab and lobster terminate in claws, are modified into tufts of curled hairs (_cirri_), or feathers. When the animal is alive and active under water, a crater may be seen to open on the summit of the little shelly mountain, and, as if from the mouth of a miniature volcano, there issue from this aperture, from between two inner shells, the _cirri_ in the form of a feathery hand, which clutches at the water within its reach, and is then quickly retracted within the shell. During this movement the hair-fringed fingers have filtered from the water and conveyed towards the mouth within the shell, for their owner's nutriment, some minute solid particles or animalcules, and this action of the casting-net alternately shot forth and retracted continues for hours incessantly, as the water flows over its resting-place. The animal can live for a long time out of water, and in some situations thus passes half its life. Under such circumstances, the shells, containing a reserve of moisture, remain firmly closed until the return of the tide brings a fresh supply of water and food. These are the "acorn-barnacles," the _balani_, commonly known in some localities as "chitters." Barnacles of another kind are those furnished with a long stem, or peduncle, which Sir Robert Moray described as "round, hollow, and creased, and not unlike the wind-pipe of a chicken." The stem has, in fact, the ringed formation of the annelids, or worms. The shelly valves are thin, flat, and in shape somewhat like a mitre. They are composed of five pieces, two on each side, and one, a kind of rounded keel along the back of the valves, by which these are united. The shells are delicately tinted with lavender or pale blue varied with white, and the edges are frequently of a bright chrome yellow or orange colour. It is not an uncommon occurrence for a large plank entirely covered with these "necked barnacles" to be found floating at sea and brought ashore for exhibition at some watering-place; and I have more than once sent portions of such planks to the Aquaria at Brighton, and the Crystal Palace. [Illustration: FIG. 38.--PEDUNCULATED BARNACLES. (_Lepas anatifera._)] It is most interesting to watch a dense mass of living cirripedes so closely packed together that not a speck of the surface of the wood is left uncovered by them; their fleshy stalks overhanging each other, and often attached in clusters to those of some larger individuals; their plumose casting-nets ever gathering in the food that comes within their reach, and carrying towards the mouth any solid particles suitable for their sustenance. How much of insoluble matter barnacles will eliminate from the water is shown by the rapidity with which they will render turbid sea water clear and transparent. The most common species of these "necked barnacles" bears the name of "_Lepas anatifera_," "the duck-bearing _Lepas_." It was so entitled by Linnæus, in recognition of its having been connected with the fable, which, of course, met with no credit from him. Fig. 39 represents the figure-head of a ship, partly covered with barnacles, which was picked up about thirty miles off Lowestoft on the 22nd of October, 1857. It was described in the _Illustrated London News_, and the proprietors of that paper have kindly given me a copy of the block from which its portrait was printed. [Illustration: FIG. 39.--A SHIP'S FIGURE-HEAD WITH BARNACLES ATTACHED TO IT.] Others of the barnacles affix themselves to the bottoms of ships, or parasitically upon whales and sharks, and those of the latter kind often burrow deeply into the skin of their host. Fig. 40 is a portrait of a _Coronula diadema_ taken from the nose of a whale stranded at Kintradwell, in the north of Scotland, in 1866, and sent to the late Mr. Frank Buckland. Growing on this _Coronula_ are three of the curious eared barnacles, _Conchoderma aurita_; the _Lepas aurita_ of Linnæus. The species of the whale from which these Barnacles were taken was not mentioned, but it was probably the "hunch-backed" whale, _Megaptera longimana_, which is generally infested with this _Coronula_. This very illustrative specimen was, and I hope still is, in Mr. Buckland's Museum at South Kensington. It was described by him in _Land and Water_, of May 19th, 1866, and I am indebted to the proprietors of that paper for the accompanying portrait of it. [Illustration: FIG. 40.--WHALE BARNACLE (_Coronula diadema_), WITH THREE _Conchoderma aurita_ ATTACHED TO IT.] [Illustration: FIG. 41.--A YOUNG BARNACLE. (_Larva of Chthamalus stellatus._)] The young Barnacle when just extruded from the shell of its parent is a very different being from that which it will be in its mature condition. It begins its life in a form exactly like that of an entomostracous crustacean, and, like a Cyclops, has one large eye in the middle of its forehead. In this state it swims freely, and with great activity. It undergoes three moults, each time altering its figure, until at the third exuviation it has become enclosed in a bivalve shell, and has acquired a second eye. It is now ready to attach itself to its abiding-place; so, selecting its future residence, it presses itself against the wood, or whatever the substance may be, pours out from its two antennæ a glutinous cement, which hardens in water, and thus fastens itself by the front of its head, is henceforth a fixture for life, and assumes the adult form in which most persons know it best.[97] [97] If any of my readers wish to observe the development of young barnacles they may easily do so. The method I have generally adopted has been as follows: Procure a shallow glass or earthenware milk-pan that will hold at least a gallon. Fill this to within an inch of the top with sea-water, and place it in any shaded part of a room--not in front of a window. Put in the pan six or eight pebbles or clean shells of equal height, say 1½ or 2 inches, and on them lay a clean sheet of glass, which, by resting on the pebbles, is brought to within about 2½ inches of the surface of the water. Select some limpets or mussels having acorn-barnacles on them; carefully cut out the limpet or mussel, and clean nicely the interior of the shell; then place a dozen or more of these shells on the sheet of glass, and the barnacles upon them will be within convenient reach of any observation with a magnifying glass. If this be done in the month of March, the experimenter will not have to wait long before he sees young _Balani_ ejected from the summits of some of the shells. Up to the moment of their birth each of them is enclosed in a little cocoon or case, in shape like a canary-seed, and most of them are tossed into the world whilst still enclosed in this. In a few seconds this casing is ruptured longitudinally, apparently by the struggles of its inmate, which escapes at one end, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, and swims freely to the surface of the water, leaving the split cocoon or case at the bottom of the pan. Some few of the young barnacles seem to be freed from the cocoon before, or at the moment of, extrusion. From three to a dozen or more of these escape with each protrusion of the cirri of the parent, and as the parturient barnacle will put forth its feathery casting net at least twenty times in a minute for an hour or more, it follows that as many as ten thousand young ones may be produced in an hour. These, as they are cast forth at each pulsation of the parent's cirri, fall upon the clean sheet of glass, and may be taken up in a pipette, and placed under a microscope, or removed to a smaller vessel of sea-water, for minute and separate investigation. It seems strange that animals which, like the oyster and the barnacles, are condemned in their mature condition to lead so sedentary a life, should in the earlier stages of their existence swim freely and merrily through the water--young fellows seeking a home, and when they have found it, although their connubial life must be a very tame one, settling down, and not caring to rove about any more for the remainder of their days. These young _Balani_ dart about like so many water-fleas, and yet, after a few days of freedom, they become fixed and immovable, the inhabitants of the pyramidal shells which grow in such abundance on other shells, stones, and old wood. It is unnecessary for me to describe more minutely the anatomy of the Cirripedes; I have said enough to show the nature of the plumose appurtenances which, hanging from the dead shells, were supposed to be the feathers of a little bird within; but it is difficult to understand how any one could have seen in the natural occupant of the shell, "the little bill, like that of a goose, the eyes, head, neck, breast, wings, tail, and feet, like those of other water-fowl," so precisely and categorically detailed by Sir Robert Moray. As Pontoppidan, who denounced the whole story, as being "without the least foundation," very truly says, "One must take the force of imagination to help to make it look so!" As to the origin of the myth, I venture to differ entirely from philologists who attribute it to "language," and "a similarity of names," for, although, as Professor Max Müller observes in one of his lectures, "words without definite meanings are at the bottom of nearly all our philosophical and religious controversies," it certainly is not applicable in this instance. Every quotation here given shows that the mistake arose from the supposed resemblance of the plumes of the cirrhopod, and the feathers of a bird, and the fallacious deductions derived therefrom. The statements of Maier (p. 112), Gerard (p. 106), Sir Robert Moray (p. 110), &c., prove that this fanciful misconception sprang from erroneous observation. The love of the marvellous inherent in mankind, and especially prevalent in times of ignorance and superstition, favoured its reception and adoption, and I believe that it would have been as widely circulated, and have met with equal credence, if the names of the cirripede and of the goose that was supposed to be its offspring had been far more dissimilar than, at first, they really were. Setting aside several ingenious and far-fetched derivations that have been proposed, I think we may safely regard the word "barnacle," as applied to the cirrhopod, as a corruption of _pernacula_, the diminutive of _perna_, a bivalve mollusk, so-called from the similarity in shape of its shell to that of a ham--_pernacula_ being changed to _bernacula_. In some old Glossaries _perna_ is actually spelt _berna_. To arrive at the origin of the word "barnacle," or "bernicle," as applied to the goose, we must understand that this bird, _Anser leucopsis_, was formerly called the "brent," "brant," or "bran" goose, and was supposed to be identical with the species, _Anser torquatus_, which is now known by that name. The Scottish word for "goose" is "clake," or "clakis,"[98] and I think that the suggestion made long ago to Gesner[99] (1558), by his correspondent, Joannes Caius, is correct, that the word "barnacle" comes from "branclakis," or "barnclake," "the dark-coloured goose." [98] See the quotation from Hector Boethius, p. 101. [99] 'Historia Animalium,' lib. iii. p. 110. Professor Max Müller is of the opinion that its Latin name may have been derived from _Hibernicæ_, _Hiberniculæ_, _Berniculæ_, as it was against the Irish bishops that Geraldus wrote, but I must say that this does not commend itself to me; for the name _Bernicula_ was not used in the early times to denote these birds. Giraldus himself described them as _Bernacæ_, but they were variously known, also, as _Barliates_, _Bernestas_, _Barnetas_, _Barbates_, etc. I agree with Dr. John Hill,[100] that "the whole matter that gave origin to the story is that the 'shell-fish' (cirripedes), supposed to have this wonderful production usually adhere to old wood, and that they have a kind of fibres hanging out of them, which, in some degree, resemble feathers of some bird. From this slight origin arose the story that they contained real birds: what grew on trees people soon asserted to be the fruit of trees, and, from step to step, the story gained credit with the hearers," till, at length, Gerard had the audacity to say that he had witnessed the transformation. [100] 'History of Animals,' p. 422. 1752. The Barnacle Goose is only a winter visitor of Great Britain. It breeds in the far north, in Greenland, Iceland, Spitzbergen, and Nova Zembla, and probably, also, along the shores of the White Sea. There are generally some specimens of this prettily-marked goose in the gardens of the Zoological Society in the Regent's Park, London; and they thrive there, and become very tame. In the months of December and January these geese may often be seen hanging for sale in poulterers' shops; and he who has tasted one well cooked may be pardoned if the suspicion cross his mind that the "monks of old," and "the bare-footed friars," as well as the laity, may not have been unwilling to sustain the fiction in order that they might conserve the privilege of having on their tables during the long fast of Lent so agreeable and succulent a "vegetable" or "fish" as a Barnacle Goose. THE END. LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. Transcriber's note: _Underscores_ have been used to indicate _italic_ fonts. Inconsistent hyphenation has been left as written. Missing end quote marks have been inserted. The word irreconcileable has been left as written: "I need scarcely point out how utterly irreconcileable is the" The word gowden has been left as written: "Braiding her locks of gowden hair" The word fane has been left as written: "exactly resembled the tail of a fish, with a broad fane" The word engulphed has been left as written: "were all suddenly engulphed in the waves on the night of the battle"