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 well-being 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, pellucid, and inviting than ever; and Jack and I plunged into
its depths 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. "The 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 encrusted with salt,
"you must carry your philosophy a little further, 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
seaweed in the sea; well, go and get one or two bits of seaweed 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 its companions.
It was one of the common small crabs, like to those that are found
running about everywhere on the coast 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
the 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 seaweed and animals to put into a certain
amount of water, the tank needed no further 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 round 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
shuttlecock. 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 whelks, 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.