kind has been effected. A hole appears to have been broken by some
accident in one of the sides about half-way between the point of
attachment and the cover. A new network of fibres in bunches has
been substituted for the broken ones--of form much like the original
structure. The peculiar curved or _cornucopia_ shape before referred
to, and usually, although not invariably, assumed by these baskets,
has also given rise to much speculation amongst the scientific. Dr.
Gray gives it as his opinion that the weight of the Crab when crawling
through the interior of the tube, may influence the direction in
which the basket is found to incline. He says: “As the Crab becomes
imprisoned in the cavity, it will be constantly walking up and down
the tube to procure food, and by so doing will, most likely, bend the
tube on one side, so that the free end of the tube may become bent
down nearly to the level of the base;” and it remains an open question
whether this is the true solution of the enigma, or, like the goblet
forms of some species of sponges, and the rounded contour of others,
the cornucopia form of growth may not, after all, be that common to _E.
speciosa_.
It appears to be the prevailing opinion amongst the fishermen by whom
the Euplectella is taken, and by whom it is known as the _Rigederos_,
“that it is the work of two insects (meaning probably the Crabs found
in the tubes) at the bottom of the sea.” A French correspondent in
writing recently to the authorities of the British Museum, expresses
his opinion that the Euplectella is the work of the Crabs. There are
very grave reasons, however, why this opinion should be received with
the greatest caution, if not absolute doubt. In the first place, we
know of no crustacean possessing a like power of silicious secretion
and construction. Then the Crabs which are found inclosed are not
always of the same species, or even genera. Dr. Gray is of opinion
that one which he examined through the meshes was a _Pagurus_, and of
habits identical with those which we have already described. Crabs with
such investigating and intrusive instincts as these, would not fail
to explore the inmost recesses of a hollow tube of such a tempting
appearance as the young, growing, and coverless Euplectella would
present; and what more probable than that, as the tube became perfected
and the lid partly made, the Crab or Crabs might still continue to
inhabit it, until the orifice being at last closed up, and escape
impossible, our friend remained a prisoner for life. His cast-off
shells, like old worn-out garments, would remain sealed up securely
with him, and give the idea that many Crabs had there resided.
The ancients, although totally ignorant of the existence of the
beautiful lace-work basket we have described, and the creatures
dwelling within them, were nevertheless perfectly aware of the presence
of small Crabs in the shells of the great silk-yielding mussel (_Pinna
nobilis_), who, because he had no visual organs himself, was supposed
to need the services of a vigilant submarine watchman, sharp of ear and
keen of eye--a sort of _concierge_, in fact--to attend to the door and
keep out all unwelcome visitors.
The researches of Lamarck go to show that the ancient writers were
generally of opinion that these Crabs were especially employed as
general guardians and inseparable companions to the Pinna, that they
had one common birth, and that the one could not exist without the
other,--the absence of vision in the Pinna being compensated for by
the vigilance of the Crab, whilst in matters requiring power and
resistance, _Cancer_ had only to give the required sign by a gentle
nip, when his partner, with the strength of a sea-giant, shut his
shell-trap-door on all the inquisitive, intrusive little fish within
the fatal portal, when the firm of _Pinna_ and _Crab_ made remarkably
short reckonings with them. We read that in 1749, Hasselquist,
the distinguished naturalist, undertook a voyage to the Levant,
and corresponded with Linnæus during his travels. In one of his
communications he thus writes from Smyrna:--“Amongst others they sell
here a _sepia_, or cuttle-fish, which by them is called Οκτωποδια. It
has only eight tentacles all of equal length. The whole animal is a
foot long, and thick in proportion. Of this the Greeks have related an
anecdote which I think remarkable. The _Pinna muricata_, or great silk
mussel, is here found in the bottom of the sea in large quantities, and
is a foot long. The cuttle-fish watches the opportunity when the mussel
opens her shell to creep in and devour her; but a little Crab which
has scarcely any shell, or has at least only a very thin one, lodges
constantly in this shell-fish. She pays a good rent by saving the life
of her landlady, for she keeps a constant look-out through the aperture
of the shell, and on seeing the enemy approach she begins to stir, when
the πινα (for so the Greeks call the shell-fish) shuts up her house,
and the rapacious animal is excluded. I saw this shell-fish first at
the Island of Milo, and found such a little Crab in all I opened. I
wondered not a little what was her business there; but when I came
here, I was first informed of it by the Secretary of our Consul, M.
Justi, a curious and ingenious man, who has travelled much, and lived
long in this place. This was afterwards confirmed by several Greeks who
daily catch and eat both these animals.”
The common Pea Crab (_Pinnotheres pisum_), represented in the annexed
cut, and of enlarged scale, is an inhabitant of our own coasts, and
frequently found residing within the shell of the common edible mussel,
(_Mytilus edulis_); but it is very remarkable that the female Crabs are
very much more numerous than the males, and that although the male Crab
may be at times captured at a distance from his strange lodging, we
know of no instance of a female being taken in any situation but within
the shell of some mollusc. Aristotle speaks of this small mail-clad
janitor as a little fish with claws, like those of a Crab, which keeps
guard and ward for the _Pinna_, grows to her mouth, and acts as her
caterer. Pliny too remarked and described the apparently anomalous
association. He speaks of the Pinna as a shell-fish that is found in
muddy waters, always erect, and never without a companion of the Crab
kind. Oppiannus not only knew that Crabs existed commonly in the Pinna
shells, but clearly conceived that it was their duty and mission to do
so. Thus he writes:--
[Illustration]
“The Pinna and the Crab together dwell
For mutual succour in one common shell;
They both to gain a livelihood combine,--
_That_ takes the prey when _this_ has given the sign.
From hence this Crab above his fellows famed
By ancient Greeks was _Pinnatores_ named.”
[Illustration]
The accompanying illustration, on a very enlarged scale, represents
the pinna’s companion, _Pinnotheres veterum_, which will be seen at
a glance to differ materially in appearance from _P. pisum_. The
mussel is not the only shell in which _P. pisum_ finds ready-furnished
lodgings. The common cockle (_Cardium edule_), and in some instances
the ordinary oyster, being selected to supply them. Mr. W. Thompson, in
writing on the crustaceans of Ireland, says, “The smallest Pinnotheres
I have seen was found by Mr. Hyndman, in a living _Cardium exignum_,
dredged up by us in Strangford Lough, in October, 1834. It is a male.
The carapace is under a line in length; the entire breadth of the
Crab from the extremities of the outstretched legs is three lines.
The cardium is under three lines in length, and barely exceeds that
admeasurement in breadth; so that the Crab, when in the position just
mentioned, must have on both sides touched the walls of his chosen
prison. The _Pinnotheres_ likewise inhabits the _Cardium edule_.
Before me is one of these Crabs, of which the carapace is two lines
in breadth, obtained by Mr. Hyndman in a full-grown _C. edule_ from
Strangford Lough; but from the Sligo coast where this Crab attains
an extraordinary large size, a Crab with a carapace four lines in
breadth, and with outstretched legs seven lines across, was once kindly
brought to me by Lord Enniskillen. Mr. R. Ball informs me that on two
occasions he obtained a great number of the Pinnotheres, and which were
all males, from the _Cardium edule_, when at Youghal. About nine out
of every ten cockles contained a Crab. On opening oysters at Tenby in
Wales he has procured the Pinnotheres. This Crab, like the _Pagurus_,
occupies different species of shells according to its size, and at
every age, and generally selects such as with outstretched legs it
would fill from side to side.”
Another extraordinary instance of anomalous association is to be
found in the habits of the _Pagurus prideauxii_, which is invariably
found with the cloak Anemone (_Adamsia palliata_) adhering to it,
and so strong are the mysterious bonds of relationship, friendship,
or whatever it may be called, which bind them together, that on the
Pagurus finding it requisite to increase the size of his borrowed
mansion, the Anemone, like a chosen companion as he is, follows to the
new home, being deftly held by the nippers of the fresh inhabitant
until enabled to obtain a firm hold just outside the portal, where it
remains until some other removal is made, or more commodious quarters
required. From these sociable house-hunting adventurers we pass on to
the burrowing Crabs, of which there are many kinds, indulging in habits
most curious and noteworthy. Perhaps the most remarkable of these, is
the great Cocoa-nut Eating Crab, or “_Ou-Ou_,” as it is called by the
natives of some of the localities in which it is met with. It is the
_Birgus latro_ of naturalists, and is well represented, although on a
very reduced scale in the illustration next page. It is found in many
of the Coral Islands dotting the Indian seas and Pacific ocean, and
beneath the rustling, waving, cocoa-nut groves, which abound within
the torid zone. The _Ou-Ou_ forms for himself a home, delving and
burrowing, miner-like, beneath the wide-spreading roots of the tropic
trees, and excavating deep and cunningly-formed galleries and chambers
in the coral sand and broken shells; and one is almost disposed to
think that the following lines by Thomson must have been penned in all
the fervour of a poet’s admiration for the happy lot of our friend of
subterranean proclivities:--
“Sheltered amid the orchards of the sun,
Where high palmettos lift their graceful shade,
Give me to drain the cocoa’s milky bowl,
And from the palm to drain its fresh’ning wine,
More bounteous far than all the frantic juice
Which Bacchus pours.”
[Illustration]
Here, like a feudal baron of old, he forms for himself a stronghold,
sallying forth like a freebooter, to feast on the spoils of the
grove. Curious stories are related of these marauders, and it has
been gravely asserted that they have been known to ascend the tall
stalks of the cocoa palms for the purpose of detaching and throwing
down the nuts. We are not prepared to say that particular palms
(when in a more than ordinarily sloping posture) may not been have
climbed in the manner stated by certain species. Our own experience,
however, strongly disposes us to think that such nuts as from time
to time fall to the ground from ordinary causes, constitute the
prizes commonly appropriated by _B. latro_. His enormously powerful
and ponderous nippers enable him to husk and rend these from their
tenacious coatings with surprising speed and facility; and it is only
necessary to examine the cocoa-nut husks with the nuts within them,
as imported from abroad, to be convinced that our nut-eating friend
must be a veritable crustacean Hercules, to be capable of such feats
of strength, as the dragging forth of the treasures from their dense
fibrous envelopes unquestionably are; and a Hercules he is in his own
way, for the tenacious wire-like network of cocoa fibre in which the
nut is inclosed, is torn, split, and rent asunder, as though with
the iron pincers of a brawny blacksmith, until the coveted dainty
is set free. One end of every common cocoa-nut has, as most of our
readers are aware, three holes in it; these, from their position and
quaint resemblance to the face of a living creature, are called the
monkey’s face. One of these holes is selected as a point of attack,
and a succession of adroitly-delivered and heavy raps are rapidly
given with the large claw. An opening, or breach, is thus very quickly
effected. The narrow pair of nippers now come into operation, and by
dexterously inserting them, the whole of the white, sweet, oleaginous
contents are deftly scooped and clawed out. _B. latro_ has a keen eye
to future wants as well as to present enjoyment; he is not only a
gourmand, but pretty much of a utilitarian; so he employs his sharp,
powerful claws in carding and combing up the bundles of tangled coir,
remaining after his husk-splitting operation. This, by dint of much
clawing to and fro, at length becomes almost as fine as tow, or the
oakum used by shipwrights. When sufficiently manipulated, he gathers
together the result of his labours, and transports it to the inmost
recesses of his subterranean stronghold beneath the roots; a bed is
here made from it, on which our friend reclines; and it helps to form
a convenient covering and protection for him when debarred from the
pleasures and delights of Crab society during the uncomfortable process
of shell-changing. The crafty human inhabitants of these wave-washed
isles, are too well versed in the habits of our friend, and too well
aware of his provident habits, not to avail themselves of the stores
of well-preserved fibre thus laid up; advantage is therefore taken of
the buried store, which is unceremoniously dragged forth, collected
together, and made use of for caulking the seams of their canoes, and
many other useful purposes. During the period of comparative torpidity
usually accompanying the shell-shifting process, the wants of nature
are wonderfully and wisely provided for. These strange creatures are
each furnished with a species of natural magazine, containing fatty
matter, which they carry beneath their tails. Some Crabs of large size
have been known to yield enough to produce a quart of oil, limpid, of
excellent quality, and highly esteemed by the natives. _B. latro_ is
much given to nocturnal rambling, and frequent visits are by him paid
to localities within the cheering influences of the salt-sea wave; but
we do not agree with those writers who have accused him of nightly
hydropathic journeys. During the breeding season some considerable time
is spent by the whole family in exploring the countless rock-pools
and lagunes between the coral reefs. Here, after the departure of
the parents for their homes amongst the roots, the juvenile crabs
continue to desport themselves, until grown strong enough to attack
the nuts on their own account, when they proceed to join their seniors
in the family diggings. The natives, when they set their minds on a
Crab-hunting expedition, provide themselves with much the same kind
of equipment as a party of English gamekeepers would use when about
to extract a secretive badger from his burrow. Digging, and that of
the most determined and energetic description, is the favourite method
of bringing the game to light, which desirable consummation is rarely
arrived at until a very large amount of loud shouting and needless
leaping about has been had recourse to. The unfortunate Crabs are very
good to eat, and they appear thoroughly aware of it, making use of
every effort in their power to avoid capture. They are, nevertheless,
ruthlessly overtaken in the subterranean race, dragged forth into the
broad sunlight, ignominiously bound with cords twisted from the tough
fibre of the cocoa husk (a very requisite precaution by the bye), and
lugged off into hopeless captivity.
Some of these nut-feeders grow to a monstrous size (some being over two
feet long), are armed with nippers of most formidable dimensions, and
make no more of snapping the strong cord, with which the Crab-catchers
endeavour to secure them, than if they were as many strands of
packthread. At certain seasons of the year a vegetable diet appears to
become unpalatable to our friend. He then seeks a change, and levies
open and indiscriminate warfare on all the tribe of shell-bearing
molluscs he can lay his thievish claws on, not giving even the ghost
of a chance of escape. He seizes them forcibly with his nippers, and
then extracts them from their snug shell-castles, with a dexterity
which an accomplished London shell-fish dealer might look on with
envy; and then, not content with devouring the ill-fated tenant, he
performs a sort of grotesque defiant, and triumphal march, with the
vacant shell raised like a standard, aloft in his claws, as if for
the express purpose of inciting other Crabs more peaceably disposed
and less nefarious in their habits, to the perpetration of outrages
of a similar character. Take him for all in all, _B. latro_ may be
considered anything but a well-conducted member of the family to which
he belongs. His name denotes the character which he has fully earned
and universally maintains.
The countless thousands of islands, reefs, and spots of newly-formed
land dotting the South Seas and Indian Ocean, are ever on the increase.
The foundations of these are firmly laid at the sea’s bottom by legions
of that tiny toiler of the deep, the coral insect, and year by year,
and age by age, his ceaseless labours progress upward and ever upward
towards the light of heaven; layer by layer, and ledge by ledge, are
formed, until the pigmy beginning grows to be a strong sea-wall, like
the ramparts of some Old World fortress. In time, the green wave
breaks and feathers on its crest, whilst other walls slowly but surely
raise their masses from beneath. Within their circling grasp, a still
rock lake at length is formed, round which the angry billows roll
and thunder, chafing at the mighty barrier disputing their dominion.
Here, within the safe, still pool, collect the thousand and one waifs
and strays, ever to be found floating or driven by the tide currents.
Fragments of wreck from distant shores, dead fish, empty mollusc
shells, echini, sea-weed, and drift-wood cast far out to sea by the
floods of the great rivers of the tropics;--all these, and innumerable
other objects, find a resting-place on the newly-formed rocks, and in
due time are broken up by decay, but are always added to by the same
great store, until, wave-borne in their rough, strong, buoyant husks,
come cocoa-nuts and other seeds. These quickly germinate, sprout up,
and send their roots far out in search of nutriment, and thus bind
the loose materials of the new-formed ground together. Watered by
the tropic showers and sea spray, the little sea-girt forest grows
apace, and the wandering sea-fowl, and migratory birds are not slow
in converting it into a haven of rest for their wearied pinions.
These last visitors bring in their crops, from far-off continents and
islands, the seeds of many shrubs and plants, which, falling amongst
elements congenial to their growth, rapidly spring into life, and, like
the trees amongst which they find shelter, bear seed in their turn, and
in due season die, to afford food for their successors in the kingdom
of plants. Man claims some of these realms as his own; others are left
to such inhabitants as nature may people them with. The West India
Islands, too, are inhabited by many curious and interesting members
of the Crab family: one of these known as the Land Crab (_Gecarcinus
ruricola_), is pretty much of a highlander in his nature. The upland
solitudes are most to his taste, and here he forms for himself a snug
retreat beneath the earth of the hill-side. As the spawning season
approaches, a mighty gathering of the clans takes place, and whole
legions unwarned by fiery cross, or blazing beacon, hasten forth to
join the living tide flowing onward towards the sea. Through the
tangled jungle, down the rock-strewn ravine, over fallen tree-trunks,
and among the dense undergrowth of the forest, in ceaseless, creeping,
crawling, scuttling thousands; still they come onward, and ever
onward, as the bright stars shine out to light them on their way.
Banks, hedges, walls, and even houses are passed straight over in this
crustacean steeplechase, no flags being needed to keep the mail-clad
competitors to the true course--instinct the guide, and the blue sea
for a goal, nothing stops the race.
Cuffee and his companions, who have been gossiping and story-telling
beneath their cocoa-leaf roofs until half-asleep, appear to become
most violent and incurable lunatics, on suddenly becoming aware of
the nocturnal exodus: they leap high in the air, shout, scream, and
dance like fiends, whilst the most ready-witted of the crew dash off
to _de massa_ with the startling news. “Hi, golly, sa; de Crab, de
Crab! he come for sure dis time, sure nuff; plenty catch um bum by;”
and Cuffee keeps his word to the letter, and captures the pilgrims by
the basketful, in spite of their claws; and black-faced woolley-headed
Aunt Lilly, the cook, shows her teeth like ivory dominoes in an ebony
box, as visions of white, snow-like rice, cocoa-nut milk, capsicum
pods, and stewpans pass in pleasing and appetising review before her,
and massa himself takes an extra pull at the cold sangaree jug, sleeps
pleasantly, and dreams of the Crab feast of the morrow.
At the termination of the spawning season the survivors return to their
homes among the hills; and but little notice is taken of them now, as
they night by night bend their weary steps on the backward march, poor,
low-conditioned, and unfit for human food, like the salmon-kelt on his
journey to the sea. A short residence in his earth burrow serves to set
our friend the Crab on his legs again, and make even better food of him
than can be prepared during the migration. Sugar-cane plantations are
his delight, and in them he regales himself like an alderman, nipping
through the crisp rind of the sugar-bearing reed, sucking the luscious
juices and clawing out the sweet contents, until a rustling sound warns
him that Nemesis, in the form of our old friend Cuffee, is not far
off, and that active individual, accompanied by a prick-eared cur, and
armed with a spike-pointed cane, pounces down on the very spot where
_G. ruricola_, Esq. had been so pleasantly regaling himself, and now
commences a fierce and relentless action.
_Cuffee, Cur, and Spike, v. Crab._ Ever on the alert, Crab darts off
backwards with astonishing rapidity, keeping a very bright eye on
the cur, who rushes pell-mell after him through the canes, cheered on
by the shouts and “Ya, ya’s” of his sable master, whose aim it is to
head back the Crab, or pin him with his spike. This latter feat he
all but accomplishes; but the Crab darts like lightning a couple of
feet backwards, and then shoots off at right angles with the agility
of a sprite. One more rapid dart in the opposite direction, the spike
is furiously hurled by baffled Cuffee, and is within an inch of
transfixing the cur, who sniffs and whines disconsolately at the mouth
of a hole, which leads he knows not whither.
When hunting amongst the grass jungles of the Mahratta country, we were
greatly amused at the quaint proceedings of a species of Crab which at
certain seasons abounds there. These little fellows, members of the
genus _Thelphusa_, were, when we saw them, busily engaged in their hay
harvest, and actively engaged in mowing the grass. This they did in
the most curiously quaint and elfish manner, sitting bolt upright and
working their sharp scissors like nippers right and left, until enough
to form a bundle had been gathered; then, with this, compactly rolled
up in sheafs, off they would trot to their holes, and when the load had
been safely disposed of, back they would scuttle for others with quite
as much bustle, fuss, and excitement as if they had been the owners
of a large estate, a hundred acres of meadow hay to get in, and the
barometer at change. So we left our funny, clever, energetic little
friends with a good speed, hard at it, making hay whilst the sun shone.
[Illustration]