Something wrong with the tank--Jack's wisdom and Peterkin's
impertinence--Wonderful behaviour of a crab--Good wishes for those who
dwell far from the sea--Jack commences to build a little boat.
Rest is sweet as well for the body as for the mind. During my long
experience, amid the vicissitudes of a chequered life, I have found that
periods of profound rest at certain intervals, in addition to the
ordinary hours of repose, are necessary to the wellbeing of man. And the
nature as well as the period of this rest varies, according to the
different temperaments of individuals, and the peculiar circumstances in
which they may chance to be placed. To those who work with their minds,
bodily labour is rest. To those who labour with the body, deep sleep is
rest. To the downcast, the weary, and the sorrowful, joy and peace are
rest. Nay, further, I think that to the gay, the frivolous, the
reckless, when sated with pleasures that cannot last, even sorrow proves
to be rest of a kind, although, perchance, it were better that I should
call it relief than rest. There is, indeed, but one class of men to whom
rest is denied. There is no rest to the wicked. At this I do but hint,
however, as I treat not of that rest which is spiritual, but, more
particularly, of that which applies to the mind and to the body.
Of this rest we stood much in need on our return home, and we found it
exceedingly sweet, when we indulged in it, after completing the journey
just related. It had not, indeed, been a very long journey, nevertheless
we had pursued it so diligently that our frames were not a little
prostrated. Our minds were also very much exhausted in consequence of
the many surprises, frequent alarms, and much profound thought, to which
they had been subjected; so that when we lay down on the night of our
return under the shelter of the bower, we fell immediately into very deep
repose. I can state this with much certainty, for Jack afterwards
admitted the fact, and Peterkin, although he stoutly denied it, I heard
snoring loudly at least two minutes after lying down. In this condition
we remained all night and the whole of the following day without awaking
once, or so much as moving our positions. When we did awake it was near
sunset, and we were all in such a state of lassitude that we merely rose
to swallow a mouthful of food. As Peterkin remarked, in the midst of a
yawn, we took breakfast at tea-time, and then went to bed again, where we
lay till the following forenoon.
After this we arose very greatly refreshed, but much alarmed lest we had
lost count of a day. I say we were much alarmed on this head, for we had
carefully kept count of the days since we were cast upon our island, in
order that we might remember the Sabbath-day, which day we had hitherto
with one accord kept as a day of rest, and refrained from all work
whatsoever. However, on considering the subject, we all three
entertained the same opinion as to how long we had slept, and so our
minds were put at ease.
We now hastened to our Water Garden to enjoy a bathe, and to see how did
the animals which I had placed in the tank. We found the garden more
charming, pelucid, and inviting than ever, and Jack and I plunged into
its depth, and gambolled among its radiant coral groves; while Peterkin
wallowed at the surface, and tried occasionally to kick us as we passed
below. Having dressed, I then hastened to the tank; but what was my
surprise and grief to find nearly all the animals dead, and the water in
a putrid condition! I was greatly distressed at this, and wondered what
could be the cause of it.
"Why, you precious humbug," said Peterkin, coming up to me, "how could
you expect it to be otherwise? When fishes are accustomed to live in the
Pacific Ocean, how can you expect them to exist in a hole like that?"
"Indeed, Peterkin," I replied, "there seems to be truth in what you say.
Nevertheless, now I think of it, there must be some error in your
reasoning; for, if I put in but a few very small animals, they will bear
the same proportion to this pond that the millions of fish bear to the
ocean."
"I say, Jack," cried Peterkin, waving his hand, "come here, like a good
fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our
assistance, for he's out o' sight beyond me already!"
"What's the matter?" inquired Jack, coming up, while he endeavoured to
scrub his long hair dry with a towel of cocoa-nut cloth.
I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who, I was happy to find, quite agreed
with me. "Your best plan," he said, "will be to put very few animals at
first into your tank, and add more as you find it will bear them. And
look here," he added, pointing to the sides of the tank, which, for the
space of two inches above the water-level, were incrusted with salt, "you
must carry your philosophy a little farther, Ralph. That water has
evaporated so much that it is too salt for anything to live in. You will
require to add _fresh_ water now and then, in order to keep it at the
same degree of saltness as the sea."
"Very true, Jack, that never struck me before," said I.
"And, now I think of it," continued Jack, "it seems to me that the surest
way of arranging your tank so as to get it to keep pure and in good
condition, will be to imitate the ocean in it. In fact make it a
miniature Pacific. I don't see how you can hope to succeed unless you do
that."
"Most true," said I, pondering what my companion said. "But I fear that
that will be very difficult."
"Not at all," cried Jack, rolling his towel up into a ball, and throwing
it into the face of Peterkin, who had been grinning and winking at him
during the last five minutes. "Not at all. Look here. There is water
of a certain saltness in the sea; well, fill your tank with sea water,
and keep it at that saltness by marking the height at which the water
stands on the sides. When it evaporates a little, pour in _fresh_ water
from the brook till it comes up to the mark, and then it will be right,
for the salt does not evaporate with the water. Then, there's lots of
sea-weed in the sea;--well, go and get one or two bits of sea-weed, and
put them into your tank. Of course the weed must be alive, and growing
to little stones; or you can chip a bit off the rocks with the weed
sticking to it. Then, if you like, you can throw a little sand and
gravel into your tank, and the thing's complete."
"Nay, not quite," said Peterkin, who had been gravely attentive to this
off-hand advice, "not quite; you must first make three little men to dive
in it before it can be said to be perfect, and that would be rather
difficult, I fear, for two of them would require to be philosophers. But
hallo! what's this? I say, Ralph, look here. There's one o' your crabs
up to something uncommon. It's performing the most remarkable operation
for a crab I ever saw,--taking off its coat, I do believe, before going
to bed!"
We hastily stooped over the tank, and certainly were not a little amused
at the conduct of one of the crabs which still survived it companions. It
was one of the common small crabs, like to those that are found running
about everywhere on the coasts of England. While we gazed at it, we
observed its back to split away from the lower part of its body, and out
of the gap thus formed came a soft lump which moved and writhed
unceasingly. This lump continued to increase in size until it appeared
like a bunch of crab's legs: and, indeed, such it proved in a very few
minutes to be; for the points of the toes were at length extricated from
this hole in its back, the legs spread out, the body followed, and the
crab walked away quite entire, even to the points of its nipper-claws,
leaving a perfectly entire shell behind it, so that, when we looked, it
seemed as though there were two complete crabs instead of one!
"Well!" exclaimed Peterkin, drawing a long breath, "I've _heard_ of a man
jumping out of his skin and sitting down in his skeleton in order to cool
himself, but I never expected to _see_ a crab do it!"
We were, in truth, much amazed at this spectacle, and the more so when we
observed that the new crab was larger than the crab that it came out of.
It was also quite soft, but by next morning its skin had hardened into a
good shell. We came thus to know that crabs grow in this way, and not by
the growing of their shells, as we had always thought before we saw this
wonderful operation.
Now I considered well the advice which Jack had given me about preparing
my tank, and the more I thought of it, the more I came to regard it as
very sound and worthy of being acted on. So I forthwith put his plan in
execution, and found it to answer excellently well, indeed much beyond my
expectation; for I found that after a little experience had taught me the
proper proportion of sea-weed and animals to put into a certain amount of
water, the tank needed no farther attendance; and, moreover, I did not
require ever afterwards to renew or change the sea-water, but only to add
a very little fresh water from the brook, now and then, as the other
evaporated. I therefore concluded that if I had been suddenly conveyed,
along with my tank, into some region where there was no salt sea at all,
my little sea and my sea-fish would have continued to thrive and to
prosper notwithstanding. This made me greatly to desire that those
people in the world who live far inland might know of my wonderful tank,
and, by having materials like to those of which it was made conveyed to
them, thus be enabled to watch the habits of those most mysterious
animals that reside in the sea, and examine with their own eyes the
wonders of the great deep.
For many days after this, while Peterkin and Jack were busily employed in
building a little boat out of the curious natural planks of the chestnut
tree, I spent much of my time in examining with the burning-glass the
marvellous operations that were constantly going on in my tank. Here I
saw those anemones which cling, like little red, yellow, and green blobs
of jelly, to the rocks, put forth, as it were, a multitude of arms and
wait till little fish or other small animalcules unwarily touched them,
when they would instantly seize them, fold arm after arm around their
victims, and so engulf them in their stomachs. Here I saw the ceaseless
working of those little coral insects whose efforts have encrusted the
islands of the Pacific with vast rocks, and surrounded them with enormous
reefs. And I observed that many of these insects, though extremely
minute, were very beautiful, coming out of their holes in a circle of
fine threads, and having the form of a shuttle-cock. Here I saw curious
little barnacles opening a hole in their backs and constantly putting out
a thin feathery hand, with which, I doubt not, they dragged their food
into their mouths. Here, also, I saw those crabs which have shells only
on the front of their bodies, but no shell whatever on their remarkably
tender tails, so that, in order to find a protection to them, they thrust
them into the empty shells of wilks, or some such fish, and when they
grow too big for one, change into another. But, most curious of all, I
saw an animal which had the wonderful power, when it became ill, of
casting its stomach and its teeth away from it, and getting an entirely
new set in the course of a few months! All this I saw, and a great deal
more, by means of my tank and my burning-glass, but I refrain from
setting down more particulars here, as I have still much to tell of the
adventures that befell us while we remained on this island.