No. I.
From early youth devoted to the study of nature, it has always been my
habit to embrace every opportunity of increasing my knowledge and
pleasures by actual observation, and have ever found ample means of
gratifying this disposition, wherever my place has been allotted by
Providence. When an inhabitant of the country, it was sufficient to go a
few steps from the door, to be in the midst of numerous interesting
objects; when a resident of the crowded city, a healthful walk of half
an hour placed me where my favourite enjoyment was offered in abundance;
and now, when no longer able to seek in fields and woods and running
streams for that knowledge which cannot readily be elsewhere obtained,
the recollection of my former rambles is productive of a satisfaction
which past pleasures but seldom bestow. Perhaps a statement of the
manner in which my studies were pursued, may prove interesting to those
who love the works of nature, and may not be aware how great a field
for original observation is within their reach, or how vast a variety of
instructive objects are easily accessible, even to the occupants of a
bustling metropolis. To me it will be a source of great delight to
spread these resources before the reader, and enable him so cheaply to
participate in the pleasures I have enjoyed, as well as place him in the
way of enlarging the general stock of knowledge, by communicating the
results of his original observations.
One of my favourite walks was through Turner's Lane, which is about a
quarter of a mile long, and not much wider than an ordinary street,
being closely fenced in on both sides; yet my reader may feel surprised
when informed that I found ample employment for all my leisure, during
six weeks, within and about its precincts. On entering the lane from the
Ridge road, I observed a gentle elevation of the turf beneath the lower
rails of the fence, which appeared to be uninterruptedly continuous; and
when I had cut through the verdant roof with my knife, it proved to be a
regularly arched gallery or subterranean road, along which the
inhabitants could securely travel at all hours, without fear of
discovery. The sides and bottom of this arched way were smooth and
clean, as if much used; and the raised superior portion had long been
firmly consolidated by the grass roots, intermixed with tenacious clay.
At irregular and frequently distant intervals, a side path diverged into
the neighbouring fields, and, by its superficial situation,
irregularity, and frequent openings, showed that its purpose was
temporary, or had been only opened for the sake of procuring food.
Occasionally I found a little gallery diverging from the main route
beneath the fence, towards the road, and finally opening on the grass,
as if the inmate had come out in the morning to breathe the early air,
or to drink of the crystal dew which daily gemmed the close-cropped
verdure. How I longed to detect the animal which tenanted these
galleries, in the performance of his labours! Farther on, upon the top
of a high bank, which prevented the pathway from continuing near the
fence, appeared another evidence of the industry of my yet unknown
miner. Half-a-dozen hillocks of loose, almost pulverised earth were
thrown up, at irregular distances, communicating with the main gallery
by side passages. Opening one of these carefully, it appeared to differ
little from the common gallery in size, but it was very difficult to
ascertain where the loose earth came from, nor have I ever been able to
tell, since I never witnessed the formation of these hillocks, and
conjectures are forbidden, where nothing but observation is requisite to
the decision. My farther progress was now interrupted by a delightful
brook which sparkled across the road, over a clear sandy bed; and here
my little galleries turned into the field, coursing along at a moderate
distance from the stream. I crept through the fence into the meadow on
the west side, intending to discover, if possible, the animal whose
works had first fixed my attention, but as I approached the bank of the
rivulet, something suddenly retreated towards the grass, seeming to
vanish almost unaccountably from sight. Very carefully examining the
point at which it disappeared, I found the entrance of another gallery
or burrow, but of very different construction from that first observed.
This new one was formed in the grass, near and among whose roots and
lower stems a small but regular covered way was practised. Endless,
however, would have been the attempt to follow this, as it opened in
various directions, and ran irregularly into the field, and towards the
brook, by a great variety of passages. It evidently belonged to an
animal totally different from the owner of the subterranean passage, as
I subsequently discovered, and may hereafter relate. Tired of my
unavailing pursuit, I now returned to the little brook, and seating
myself on a stone, remained for some time unconsciously gazing on the
fluid which gushed along in unsullied brightness over its pebbly bed.
Opposite to my seat was an irregular hole in the bed of the stream, into
which, in an idle mood, I pushed a small pebble with the end of my
stick. What was my surprise, in a few seconds afterwards, to observe the
water in this hole in motion, and the pebble I had pushed into it gently
approaching the surface. Such was the fact: the hole was the dwelling of
a stout little crayfish, or fresh-water lobster, who did not choose to
be incommoded by the pebble, though doubtless he attributed its sudden
arrival to the usual accidents of the stream, and not to my thoughtless
movements. He had thrust his broad lobster-like claws under the stone,
and then drawn them near to his mouth, thus making a kind of shelf; and,
as he reached the edge of the hole, he suddenly extended his claws, and
rejected the incumbrance from the lower side, or down stream. Delighted
to have found a living object with whose habits I was unacquainted, I
should have repeated my experiment, but the crayfish presently returned
with what might be called an armful of rubbish, and threw it over the
side of his cell, and down the stream, as before. Having watched him for
some time while thus engaged, my attention was caught by the
considerable number of similar holes along the margin and in the bed of
the stream. One of these I explored with a small rod, and found it to be
eight or ten inches deep, and widened below into a considerable chamber,
in which the little lobster found a comfortable abode. Like all of his
tribe, the crayfish makes considerable opposition to being removed from
his dwelling, and bit smartly at the stick with his claws: as my present
object was only to gain acquaintance with his dwelling, he was speedily
permitted to return to it in peace. Under the end of a stone lying in
the bed of the stream, something was floating in the pure current, which
at first seemed like the tail of a fish; and being desirous to obtain a
better view, I gently raised the stone on its edge, and was rewarded by
a very beautiful sight. The object first observed was the tail of a
beautiful salamander, whose sides were of a pale straw colour, flecked
with circlets of the richest crimson. Its long lizard-like body seemed
to be semi-transparent, and its slender limbs appeared like mere
productions of the skin. Not far distant, and near where the upper end
of the stone had been, lay crouched, as if asleep, one of the most
beautifully-coloured frogs I had ever beheld. Its body was slender
compared with most frogs, and its skin covered with stripes of bright
reddish-brown and grayish-green, in such a manner as to recall the
beautiful markings of the tiger's hide; and, since the time alluded to,
it has received the name of _Tigrina_ from Leconte, its first scientific
describer. How long I should have been content to gaze at these
beautiful animals, as they lay basking in the living water, I know not,
had not the intense heat made me feel the necessity of seeking a shade.
It was now past twelve o'clock: I began to retrace my steps towards the
city; and, without any particular object, moved along by the little
galleries examined in the morning. I had advanced but a short distance,
when I found the last place where I had broken open the gallery was
_repaired_. The earth was perfectly fresh, and I had lost the chance of
discovering the miner, while watching my new acquaintances in the
stream. Hurrying onward, the same circumstance uniformly presented; the
injuries were all efficiently repaired, and had evidently been very
recently completed. Here was one point gained: it was ascertained that
these galleries were still inhabited, and I hoped soon to become
acquainted with the inmates. But at this time it appeared fruitless to
delay longer, and I returned home, filled with anticipations of pleasure
from the success of my future researches. These I shall relate on
another occasion, if such narrations as the present be thought of
sufficient interest to justify their presentation to the reader.