CHAPTER IV.

RESPIRATION OF THE LARVA.

We well know, from the various melancholy accidents which have taken

place, that unless human beings have a constant supply of pure fresh

air they must perish. Many years ago, a number of unfortunate persons

were shut up in a narrow cell, called the Black Hole, at Calcutta,

where they could scarcely find room to stand, much less obtain air to

breathe. In one night the greater part of them died. More recently, as

some poor Irish were being conveyed in a steamer in stormy weather, the

captain, out of prudence and mistaken kindness, ordered the hatches

to be all battened down, so that fresh air was prevented from getting

in. A shocking spectacle was beheld soon afterwards:--in the close,

suffocating cabin lay a number of dead bodies, of men, women, and

children, all destroyed by the want of air. Now, precisely the same

fatal results take place if we treat larvæ in the same manner; from

which we learn that undoubtedly breathing is not only one of their

functions, but a most necessary and important one.

This may be easily proved. If the reader will procure about a dozen

caterpillars of any common kind, and put them into a dry phial, corking

them closely up, and if he leaves them in their prison of glass a

sufficient time, all will die, even though he may have supplied them,

on putting them in, with an abundance of food. Clearly, therefore,

they do not die of starvation, and we should be naturally disposed to

say they must have died of suffocation; that is, they died because

the function of breathing could not take place, as there was not the

necessary change of the air contained in the phial. But suppose that

other caterpillars were procured and put into another phial, with a

sufficiency of green food, the mouth being covered over with a piece

of muslin, or fine lace, what would then be the result? Simply that

they would live and thrive for as long a period as they received their

proper quantity and quality of food, and would pass through all their

stages of existence as comfortably as if in the open air. The reason

would be because the open fibres of the muslin, or lace, do not

interfere in the least with the requisite change of air for respiration.

Again, if after corking up the bottle for a short time, we were to

shake out all the caterpillars from it, and then put into it a little

water, in which quick-lime has been slaked--sold by chemists under

the name of lime-water,--we should find it become quite white and

milk-like. This would be, because, as the physiological chemist well

knows, the function of breathing causes carbonic acid gas to be poured

out of the body, no matter whether it is the body of an insect or an

elephant; and this gas has the property of turning lime-water of the

colour mentioned. Hence we have a second and convincing proof that

larvæ breathe--we need scarcely remind the reader that caterpillars

are larvæ--and more than this, that the function of breathing in them

resembles, so far as the discharge of this peculiar gas is concerned,

the same function, whether carried on in the human body or in that of

the most mighty and majestic of the beasts of the field.

The great chemist, Scheele, has experimented, somewhat in the manner

we have recommended, upon the breathing of larvæ. He found that

when caterpillars and maggots, to use the customary terms for these

varieties of larvæ, were confined in vessels containing only about

eleven cubic inches of atmospheric air, and so stopped as to preclude

the ingress of any fresh air whatever, although furnished with an

abundant supply of food, they soon died. When he put them into a still

smaller vessel, they died the sooner. In fact, precisely in proportion

to the purity, or to the amount of the air contained in the space in

which he confined them, were their lives prolonged or shortened. He

found on examining the air that it contained, as above stated, carbonic

acid gas.

[Illustration: _A Spiracle open._]

[Illustration: _The same shut._]

We may, therefore, consider the question as settled--that larvæ do

breathe. Strange it may appear to some, but neither in the larva nor in

any other form of its existence do insects breathe by the _mouth_. How,

then, it may be asked? We shall now describe their breathing apparatus

very briefly. Along each side of the body runs a delicate tube for the

conveyance of air, called a _trachea_, or when both are spoken of, the

_tracheæ_; these channels run underneath the muscles and skin, and

open to the air by little branch tubes, the mouths of which are called

_spiracles_. Besides these branch tubes which open to the air, the

large tubes send off a great number of smaller ones, which extend to

all parts of the body, penetrating even to the legs and wings. In some

insects, the spiracles, or breathing holes, are defended by a pair

of flaps, which swing to and fro, so as to let in the air, and close

upon it after each inspiration. By this simple means the breathing of

insects is carried on; the air enters the tubes, passes along them,

and is then conveyed to every part of the body; after which, having

fulfilled its duties, it escapes again. In man, and the higher animals,

there is a separate place for the air in the body, which we call the

lungs, and here the blood is conveyed to the air, in order to be

purified. But, as we have just seen, in insects it is very different,

for in them the air is conveyed by innumerable minute pipes to every

portion of the frame. Such is the breathing mechanism common in larvæ

which live in the air.

It will be readily imagined that those larvæ which dwell in the water

must be furnished somewhat differently, in order to enable _them_ to

breathe. And here, as we shall now find, there are some very curious

arrangements, in order to effect this object. They may be considered

under two divisions. First, contrivances for breathing air while the

larva is immersed in the water; and, second, apparatus for extracting

the dissolved oxygen gas necessary for breathing from the water.

[Illustration: _Breathing apparatus of an aquatic Larva._]

Let us select a few of the most singular instances under the first of

these divisions. "No better example," write the entertaining authors

of the Introduction to Entomology, "can be selected than the gnat. You

must have occasionally observed in tubs of rain-water, numerous little

wriggling worm-like animals, which frequently ascend to the surface,

there remain awhile, and then bending their head under the body,

rapidly sink again to the bottom. These are the larvæ of some species

of the genus just named; and if you take one out of the water and

examine it, you will perceive that it is furnished, near the end of the

body, with a singular organ, which varies in length according to the

species, and forms an angle with the last segment but one. The mouth

of this organ is funnel-shaped, and terminates in five points like a

star; and by this it is usually suspended at the surface of the water,

and preserves its communication with the atmosphere. In its interior

is a tube which is connected with the _tracheæ_, and terminates in

several openings, visible under a microscope at the mouth of the organ.

The points or rays of this mouth are used to close it when the animal

is disposed to sink in the water, and thus cut off its communication

with the atmosphere. When the animal is immersed, a globule of air

remains attached to the end of the tube, so that it is in fact of less

specific gravity than water, and it is not without some effort that it

descends to the bottom; but when it wishes to rise again, it has only

to unclose the tube, and it rises without an effort to the surface, and

remains suspended for any length of time. The extremity of the larva is

clothed with bunches of hairs, which are furnished with some repellent

material which prevents their becoming wet. It is this repellent

quality that probably causes a dimple or depression of the surface,

which, if you look narrowly, you will discover round the mouth of the

tube."

In summer time, the reader can scarcely fail of the gratification of

watching these most curious creatures, for they abound in ditches,

pools, and the stagnant waters of artificial fountains. They form a

very curious object under the microscope, and particularly in the

gas microscope, or solar microscope, where the image of the larvæ is

thrown, as in the case of the magic-lantern, upon a white sheet, or

wall. Their curious writhings to and fro, the energy they display in

lashing about their tails, so as to throw the few drops of water in

which they are imprisoned into mimic whirlpools, their occasional

dartings down to the bottom, and subsequent gentle rise up to the

surface, together with the terror into which countless minor occupants

of the same watery prison with themselves are thrown, when one of these

comparative giants plunges into the midst of them, form a spectacle as

unique as it is interesting and diverting. A sharp eye, and a phial and

cork, are the alone requisites for finding out these singular beings

on most fine days in summer. But a little while ago the writer was

amused to find, on a sunny day in June, the water of a small fountain

playing before his study window, thickly populated with these active

larvæ, and it became an amusement which seldom wearied, to watch their

fantastic evolutions, and to trace their changes from the larva through

the ulterior stage up to the perfect insect. To this, however, we shall

probably have occasion to revert before the conclusion of this work.

Another instance of a curious contrivance for assisting the breathing

of a larva, whose body is wholly immersed in water, may also be found

near home. Most probably the majority of our readers have seen, or

at any rate are well acquainted with the apparatus by which the

diver descends and works under water. Lest some should not, we may

mention that it consists of a water-tight dress, which covers the

diver from head to foot, while his head is enclosed in a helmet, or

hood, furnished with a pipe or hose, which is long enough to reach

to the surface of the water, and is there generally connected with

an air-pump, which forces down fresh air, and so enables the man to

breathe almost as comfortably as if he were walking on land, instead

of at the bottom of the sea. Let it be conceived now that there were

no air-pump at the top of the hose, but simply a buoy of cork to

keep it floating, and that the diver had the power of shortening or

lengthening the hose at his pleasure, we should then have a tolerably

fair representation of the contrivance with which Infinite Wisdom has

supplied the humble creatures of whom we are about to speak.

By carefully examining the water running from manure heaps, or water

which has become putrid, and is much loaded with mud and ooze, the

reader will pretty generally be successful in discovering a number of

the larvæ of a two-winged fly of the shape represented in the cut.

When discovered, the singularity of their structure will amply repay

him for the trifling unpleasantness attending the search after them.

After washing them in a little fair water, and putting them into a tall

ale-glass, or German beer-glass, which must be three parts filled with

water, they will be in the best condition for our examination. When

Réaumur first beheld them, he gave them the name of _Vers à queue de

rat_; that is, larvæ with a rat's tail; and when the reader looks at

them, as shown in the representation annexed, he will be inclined to

think with us, that a more appropriate title could not have been found.

[Illustration: _Rat-tailed Larvæ._]

On watching them they will be seen to wriggle about until they are

comfortably settled, darting from place to place, as if uneasy in their

new position and in the pure element. By-and-by, however, they become

reconciled to their lot, and lie perfectly quiet at the bottom of the

glass in the position represented. From the tail of each will now be

seen to rise a beautifully delicate and minute tube, which comes up

to the surface of the water, and here, whatever be the movements of

the larva below, it remains floating and free. Just as the diver may,

while his companions above are pouring down torrents of fresh air,

move about, and perform various duties under, water, so the larva

may move from one position to another, and assume almost any variety

of attitude; but its little air-pipe still retains its perpendicular

direction, and does not quit the surface of the fluid.

A singular experiment may now be tried with them. Let a little water be

poured into the glass by means of a funnel, the end of which dips under

the water so as not to give them unnecessary disturbance, and by this

means the level of the water in the glass becomes insensibly raised

half an inch or so. In a few seconds it will be found that these little

tails have all lengthened themselves, and are again at the surface

of the water, even at its higher level. More water may be poured in

until perhaps the level is raised three or four inches, and still the

same thing takes place, the larvæ still prolong their curious tails,

until it seems as if they would stretch to an indefinite length, for

they are already eight or ten times longer than the body! But, as we

might jestingly say--the longest _tail_ comes to an end at last; for,

on continuing to pour more water in, the larvæ stretch their tails to

the utmost, and then, finding the level of the water still above their

reach, they become uneasy, and all quit the bottom of the glass and

attach themselves to its sides.

[Illustration: _The Tail magnified._]

Let us now examine more minutely this very singular apparatus. By a

good lens we may readily do this, as the organ is very transparent,

permitting its internal structure to be beautifully seen. Placing the

creature in a convenient position for our examination, and in a good

light, it will be presently seen that the tail is composed in reality

of two tubes, of which one slides up and down within the other, just

like the tubes of a telescope (see cut). By this means the larva is

provided with an instrument capable of being made to reach to a great

length, and yet also possessing the capability of being packed up again

in a very small compass. The proper breathing tube is the small inner

one; at its extremity is a pair of spiracles, or breathing pores, and

surrounding these are placed five minute bristles, which are supposed

to act somewhat as a buoy, and to retain the tail in its position.

Where the tail joins on to the body of the larva, two tubes thrown into

folds are placed, which are connected with the breathing tubes of the

tail, at one end, and with the breathing pipes which run along the body

of the larva at the other. When the tail is pushed out to its farthest,

these zig-zag tubes are stretched quite straight; when it is drawn in

again, they are thrown into folds. Both these appearances are shown in

the plate. It has been supposed that the larva causes the tube to be

pushed out by forcing air into it, and thus causing the zig-zag tubes

to straighten themselves. Perhaps the tail is drawn in by the same

tubes contracting again, and thus folding together and dragging back

the tube to which they are connected.

[Illustration: _End of the Tail._]

We need scarcely stop to mention how useful is this admirable

contrivance to the insect. Having to seek for their food at the bottom

of ditches, drains, or puddles, they are necessarily exposed to the

risk of suffocation, unless fresh air can be conveyed to them; and

it is difficult for us to imagine how any apparatus could have been

contrived which would have adapted itself to all the varying depths

of water in which the insect must be constantly living, as it changes

from place to place. He must have been a clever engineer who could have

successfully met this difficulty. None of our present diving apparatus

does so. The organ we have been considering, the creation of an

Infinite Mind, small and despicable as it may seem in our eyes, fulfils

perfectly every function for which it was formed. It admits of free

movement from place to place, it admits, moreover, of free change from

one level to another in the fluid by which the larva is surrounded,

and it is at the entire disposal of the insect, which can, without the

smallest inconvenience, accommodate it to the various circumstances in

which it may be placed.

[Illustration: _Chameleon-fly Larva._]

Possibly the same phial in which was brought home the last-named

larvæ with the rat's tail, will furnish us with an equally elegant

instance of larva-respiration under water, in the case of the larva of

a fly, called the chameleon fly. This little creature, if it can be

found, and though not as common as the last, it may yet be detected,

in summer by the edge of ponds, &c., has truly elegant habits. The

great Swammerdam, who first described it, was lost in admiration at

it. The extremity of its body is furnished with a coronet of about

thirty elegantly feathered hairs. These are under the control of the

insect, and are capable of being folded up, so as to enclose a minute

bubble of air. When the larva is weary of remaining at the top of the

water, and wishes to dive to the still and cool depths below, it causes

these hairs so to fold up and close upon each other as to include the

air-bubble, so that it cannot escape. Thus furnished with a pearl in

its tail, it plunges downward, and thus breathes under water until the

purity of the captive air-bubble is impaired, when it returns to the

surface to repeat the same operations. The appearance of the little

bubble shining, with a brilliant silvery lustre under the water, is

very pleasing, and accounts for the enthusiastic expressions used

by Swammerdam, in speaking of the visible manifestation of the skill

of God in this insect. The fact of an insect coming to the surface

for air, and stealing away a portion, then diving down again into the

waters, is not uncommon in insect history, although few are possessed

of so elegant a contrivance for effecting it as the larva in question.

We must pass on to mention an instance or two of larvæ which, from

the peculiarity of their respiration, come under the second of our

divisions, that is, they live in the water, and do not breathe air, but

obtain the gas necessary for their respiration _from the water_, which

holds it in a state of solution. We shall first speak of the larva of

the common May-fly, the perfect insect of which is so well known to,

and highly prized by, anglers, under the various names of "duns" and

"drakes," than which in some streams no insect that flies is a better

bait to the unwary fish. Should the reader wish to examine them for

himself, they may be found in May or June, hiding themselves during

the day in the mud, or underneath stones, or in little holes in the

banks, or taking a sub-aqueous tour upon the bed of the brook, while

the clear and purling waters roll smoothly on above them. Their little

under-water cells are shown in the cuts, together with the larva.

[Illustration: _Cells of May-fly Larva._]

[Illustration: _Larva and section of its cell._]

Their organs for breathing the water, if the expression, which is in

some measure correct, may be admitted, are very like the gills of a

fish. But instead of forming a part of the structure of the mouth

and head, as those of the fish, in the larva they are placed along

its body, and are arranged in pairs. A delicate little air-tube

enters into each of these gills, and there branches out into a great

many directions; this tube is connected with the large trachea,

or breathing vessel of the insect, running along its body. The air

entering these gills, and thus being exposed to a large surface of

water containing dissolved gas, loses its impurities, and absorbs the

pure gas from the water, whence it is then conveyed to the various

parts of the body. In many species of these larvæ the whole series

of gills are moved to and fro incessantly, and so quickly as to be

scarcely perceptible to the eye. Some of them use them as oars,

moving with inconceivable rapidity, and being capable of darting both

backwards and forwards with great quickness. They have also the power

of leaping or springing in the water to a considerable distance; and

feed on minute aquatic larvæ, and on vegetable matters.

The only other instance of this kind that we shall quote will be that

of the terrible larva of the dragon-fly, whose deeds of insect murder

came before us on a former occasion. The apparatus provided for them

is very singular, and has been described with his usual accuracy by

the talented Réaumur. It exists in the tail of the insect, and may be

readily watched in action by adopting the following expedient:--Pour

into a small glass, in which the larva has been put, and which is

half full of water, a few drops of a solution of carmine, by means of

a little tube introduced into the water, and made to drop its contents

near the tail of the creature. Immediately it will be seen that the

coloured liquid is rapidly sucked in by the tail of the insect, and

then, after the expiration of a little time, is forced back again

in a tiny jet, with considerable violence, to a distance of several

inches.[H] Réaumur tells us, that if we hold the insect between the

finger and thumb gently, and let fall a drop of water on its tail,

we shall presently see it eagerly sucked in, the body of the insect

becoming sensibly larger; and by-and-by it is thrown out again.

Sometimes it raises its tail above the surface of the water, and,

whether for sport or not, it is hard to say, squirts the water in a

mimic jet to some distance.

The apparatus has been described as resembling the piston or plunger

of a force-pump, which moves to and fro within a cavity inside the

insect's body, and by that means draws in and forces out the water.

The tail is defended by a sort of coronet, composed of five hard

bristle-like pieces, which are under the control of the creature,

and may be opened and closed at pleasure. The larva appears capable

of inflicting a somewhat painful pinch by this contrivance, so that,

what with its wonderful mask, with its powerful squirt, and with its

tail thus armed, it would be difficult to select another insect better

prepared for battle with creatures of every aquatic tribe than it.

The action of the pumping apparatus sends it rapidly forward through

the water, somewhat like a paddle-wheel, or at least upon the same

principle as that contrivance, namely, the resistance offered by the

water to the stroke of this apparatus.

The Life of an Insect being a history of the changes of insects from the egg to the perfect being. · 第 4 / 8 章