Chapter III: Introduction (2)

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.”

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.

These little fellows, we have every reason to think, are purely inland in their habits, and we know of no instance of their being known to travel either singly or in bodies to the sea coast. A member of the same genera, represented in the annexed cut, is found in many parts of the south of Europe, forming burrows for itself in the river banks, and from this habit obtains the name of _Thelphusa fluviatilis_. Few specimens reach three inches in length, and the colour is no means inviting, being of a dingy yellow. Yet it appears to have attracted much attention amongst the ancients: both Aristotle and Hippocrates knew it well, and there are medals which were struck in very early periods bearing representations of this Crab on them. There appear to be some religious associations connected with crustaceans of this description, as we find the monks of the Greek church taking some pains to procure them, and then disposing of the dainty without troubling the cook. In Italy the burrowing Crabs are eaten at Easter, much as we eat hot-cross-buns on Good Friday. There are other Crabs which form burrows both in the sands of the sea-shore and the banks and plains of the interior. One of these is the _Sand Crab_ (_Ocypoda arenaria_) of naturalists). The wide, open sand stretches of many tropical countries, abound with these remarkably agile little creatures, who excavate holes in the sand close to the borders of the tide. These are the lilliputian pedestrians with whom skylarking midshipmen engage in foot-races along the strand, and meet ignominious defeat in consequence. As autumn approaches, their sea-side retreats are quitted, the inland burrows occupied, and a state of hybernation gone into, until, the winter having passed away and the spring weather come, _Seaward ho!_ is the order of the day again.

The _Gelasimus_ is in many respects similar in its habits to these fleet-footed gentlemen, but he turns his attention more directly to sapping and mining operations, carrying on his labours in the most cunning and artful manner. Nothing annoys him more than to have prying men or investigating animals, passing their remarks, or taking note of the mouth of his shaft; so he digs away in his deep level, until he has accumulated a goodly quantity of sand and earth, when up he comes stealthily to the opening of his mine, pops out his head, peers sharply and jealously round, and, if the coast appears clear, round he flourishes his claw with all the force and precision of an accomplished round-hand bowler at cricket, and away he casts the proceeds of his excavations, but at the same time taking care that no two clawfuls go in the same direction, lest the newly-raised sand should betray the secret he is so careful to conceal.

The sands of the reefs and islands of the Eastern seas afford a home for the King Crab (_Limulus_), who, with his odd-looking, shield-shaped body, and long blade-like spike or spear, will be familiar to many of our readers. Some individuals of this species grow to a very large size, and are sought for by the Malays, both on account of the immense number of eggs they sometimes contain, and the natural weapon with which nature has armed them. These lance-shaped spears are often made use of as points for arrows and other warlike implements, mainly because the wounds inflicted with them are more painful and dangerous than those received from instruments of iron or steel. The Malays are by no means an amiable or forgiving race, and take infinitely more pains to poison the blade of the “crease” or serpentine-knife they carry, than to serve a friend or save a life, and we therefore feel far more respect for the Crab who furnishes the point for the arrow, than for the man who fires it. Then there is the _Nut Crab_, or _Calappa_, whose queer little legs are so closely tucked away under his odd little shell, that rambling “_Jack Tars_” in search of “_Curios_” not unfrequently gather a few to bring home to their friends, under the idea that when cut and polished they will serve to form elegant brooches and splendid shirt-pins, for the gay promenades of Portsmouth and Plymouth. A dry old salt of a quartermaster, on the Indian station, chanced one day, when on shore for a cruise, to become possessed of a goodly number of these _lucky stones_, as he called them, and by way of securing his treasures placed them in an old silk-handkerchief, and stowed them away, with a few dollars and sundry cakes of _cavendish_, in the corner of his chest. It so happened that some piratical ship-mate, not proof against the allurements of _honey dew_ and silver, but totally indifferent to natural history, seized his opportunity and spirited off the tobacco and money, but left the _lucky stones_ behind. The next day, when our old friend came for his accustomed supply of the weed, he, to his horror, astonishment, and indignation, found the supposed pebbles in active motion, performing foot-races over his best jacket, the handkerchief spread open, and, alas! empty. “Well,” exclaimed he, “blow me if this ain’t too much of the monkey. Why, look ye here, messmates; these here blessed stones have come to life, every man Jack of ’em. _They’ve chawed all my bacca_ and spent every meg of my money; and now I’ll heave all the beggars to Davey Jones’s locker. Overboard is where I means to pitch ’em!” and so he did, no doubt to the intense gratification of the falsely-accused Crabs. Like the Rocky Mountain ant, in whose hill precious stones are not unfrequently found,--the codfish acts the part of treasure-seeker among the rocks and sands of the ocean’s depths,--minute crustaceans of great variety, are by the shrewd and practical lover of natural history, taken from the stomachs of the captured fish, and many would have remained all but unknown to science had it not been that the Crab collecting-habits of certain large sea-fish, were discovered and promptly taken advantage of. We strongly advise all those who are fond of collecting either British or foreign specimens never to miss the opportunity of acquiring crustaceous wealth held out by the taking of a large deep sea-fish. Take out his “_treasure-sack_”--the stomach,--wash the contents in plenty of clean water, carefully examine them, and the trouble will not be thrown away, or the research made in vain. We have obtained very large numbers of a very pretty little Crab scarcely as large as a coffee-bean (_Porcellana longicornis_) in this way. This little creature is closely allied to _P. platycheles_, found abundantly on the southern coast of Devon. He delights to dwell like a sort of “_Dirty Dick_” of crustacean life in a mud hovel of his own scooping, working his way beneath stones which appear close enough to the bottom to make a crab-biscuit of him. Catch him, when or how you will, he is always like an elfish brick-maker, condemned to make bricks without straw, and debarred the privilege of washing. His jacket and trousers are begrimed with red dust, and his queer little face peers out at you, like that of an Indian idol smeared with war-paint. Nature has, however, endowed him with brush-bearing feet, with which he from time to time dusts his own suit; but he remains a rather dusty, grimy, little fellow after all, and we cannot help thinking that the treatment prescribed by Mr. Dick, for David Copperfield, would greatly benefit his personal appearance. Nature appears, when modelling the forms of the endless types of curious crustacean life with which the Southern and Eastern seas abound, to have given free scope to a love for marvellous quaintness and oddity of contour. The coasts of Japan furnish us with examples of Crab life so hideously grotesque, that nothing short of seeing a veritable specimen would serve to convince any one who had first seen a sketch of this Japanese notability, that the whole conception was not the creation of a distempered dream. _Macrocheira-kœmpferi_, of which two remarkably fine specimens are to be seen in the British Museum, are just the kind of Crabs a timid young lady, or nervous young gentleman, would strongly object to meet “_by the sad sea wave_,” or elsewhere. Their legs are so long, that running away from them would be utterly useless,--giving them, when standing, the height of an ordinary camp-stool, whilst the nipper claws appear constructed precisely on the same principle as are the arms of the magic policeman of a pantomime, which stretch easily from the level of the street to the housetop, where that prince of evil-doers, the clown, has vainly sought sanctuary. Then the coasts of Tasmania and other portions of Australasia are inhabited by Crabs, who make up in bulk and enormous power, the little they may fall short of their Japanese cousins in length of limb. The pincers of some of these are large enough to embrace the thigh of a man easily, and we apprehend that escape from that bugbear of apple-stealing rustics, the village man-trap, would be a matter of perfect simplicity, and a mere practical joke, to getting out of the grip of one of the gigantic crustaceans of the antipodes. As some of these are remarkable for their formidable appearance and colossal power, so are others well worthy of note on account of their beauty of colour and elegance of conformation. _Neptunus pelagicus_, a Crab of medium size, is wonderfully handsome, being ornamented with most strangely arranged spicules, and spotted with purple, shading off into pink. _Oceanus crucifer_, an inhabitant of the Indian seas, is perfectly charming in his way; in fact, a sort of “_Dresden beauty_,” who might be easily mistaken for a specimen of the most exquisite pink and white china.

From the Chilian coast we have another Crab, of a totally different style of beauty, in the person of _Cancer dentatus_, who appears to have laid the forest under contribution to furnish his unique wardrobe. A coat of bark, plant-stalk legs, and a very becoming frill, of autumnal-brown fern-leaves, constitute his _get up_, and it is no flattery to say that he looks uncommonly well in it. From the Caribbean sea we get, amongst a whole host of strange productions, that little gem of a Crab, _Mithraculus coronatus_. He looks as if designed expressly to be converted into a brooch, his compact little body resembling the most delicately tinted, blue porcelain, whilst his tiny claws are more like minute tufts of fur than aught else we can compare them to.

_Leucosia urania_ is another strange Chinese Crab, resembling in no common degree a pebble of polished white agate; whilst a brother, _P. porcellana_, is found in Australia; and nearer home, we obtain from the neighbourhood of the Island of Madeira the _Plagusia squamosa_, or Goat Crab, whose whole shell is rich in ornamentation, and who is by no means unlike a handsomely chased snuff-box, inlaid with chinaware and metal. Unlike these bits of ocean bric-a-brac is _Parthenope horrida_, from the reefs bordering the Isle of France. This unprepossessing individual the casual observer would declare without hesitation to be an ungainly, rugged lump of broken white coral rock; and there are uncomfortable asperities and corners enough to prevent any pedestrian, however heedless, from stepping on it; and let him just pick one up to cast at some passing sea-bird, and see how quickly the stone will resent the liberty, and show how he is to be depended on at a pinch. Then, to step from the harsh and uncompromising to the grotesque and elfish, we have but to visit the genial blue waters of the Mediterranean, where we find about as comical a little Crab as exists in all “Crabdom,” wide as that ill-defined dominion unquestionably is. This little gentleman is known as _Dromia lator_, and his habits, to say the least of them, are as eccentric as his personal appearance is queer. A hairy, wiry-coated, round-bodied, little crabling is he, and his delight is to go hunting and foraging about amongst the coralines, medusæ, and molluscs at the bottom, and because he is a designing, artful little wolf of a crab, he brings to bear his talent for stratagem. After searching out a nice, hollow piece of soft and fine-grained sponge, he works his way under it--roaches up his little back, until the yielding material opens and again closes round him, thus forming a snug and well fitting great-coat, which, like charity, covers a multitude of sins.

The tricksy sprites of fish and shrimps, as they joyously disport themselves amongst the branching coral, take little heed of the familiar ball of sponge, which in some unaccountable manner or another appears, uninvited, in the very midst of the revels. It is strange, certainly, that guest after guest should vanish into it, and return no more; but sponges, you know, are common enough in every grade of society, and therefore it is that the one in question is little suspected of having a live adventurer, of the most acquisitive and _nipsome_ habits, bound up within its folds: but there he is, for all that, as you would find out to your cost, if you unwittingly enlisted him for toilet purposes, on the strength of his borrowed uniform.

As another instance of quaint resemblance to inanimate or stationary objects, we have _Echinocerus cibarius_, a native of the North-west Coast of America, where it was discovered during the voyage of Her Majesty’s ship _Plumper_; and nothing on earth does this rugose creature so much resemble as a large, uneven, ball of half-baked brick clay, and his claim to the honour of being a Crab, would be laughed to scorn by those who from bashfulness had never shaken hands with him. Australia, that land of oddities, contributes to our store a perfect little sea vagabond, in the person of _Pilumnus nespertilis_, who is without any exception the very dirtiest and most disreputable-looking little scamp in all king Neptune’s dominions. Cut a frayed-out corner, from a chimney-sweep’s soot-bag, and you have his exact resemblance. Yet who shall say that _P. nespertilis_ is not a gentleman, in spite of his unpromising and unfashionable raiment!

Australia is a land of contradictions, as we all know. Even _explorers’_ names serve but to mislead and confound the uninitiated. We have “Cape pigeons,” which are no more pigeons than wild geese or storks: “Cape salmon,” which own to no bonds of relationship with the family of _Salmonidæ_.

The “robins” of the United States of America bear no resemblance to those of England, and enjoy none of the love, protection, and numerous privileges universally accorded to their more fortunate namesakes on this side of the Atlantic. Again, we say advisedly, let no man heedlessly try the strength of his teeth on an “Indian wood-apple,” simply because it is called “an apple.” He had far better make an attempt on an iron cannon-shot of Woolwich pattern at once, than try his powers of mastication on one of these forest fruits. The cherry of Australia, too, has a disagreeable and exasperating habit of growing with its stone outside, and of being highly unpalatable into the bargain; whilst the “pear” of that favoured land would, if duly fitted by a clever cabinet-maker, and properly polished, make an excellent and highly ornamental knob for a street door. A cabbage-tree is by no means bad as a producer of material for the manufacture of hats, and the green tops are occasionally boiled by settlers of vegetarian inclinings; but any one sanguine enough to seek cabbages amongst the cabbage-palms might reasonably be looked for, with bridle on arm, and basket in hand, carefully prospecting the pastures for a “mare’s nest,” with a view to the leading home of the colts and the basketing of such eggs as might remain unhatched. Depend, therefore, that our begrimed little acquaintance is not exactly as stupid as he looks, and that his dirty, hempen jacket, is given him for some wise purpose. Nothing is created in vain; and Columbus, with all his talent and power as a sea commander, gladly availed himself of the services of one of the most tiny Crabs (_Planes minutus_), who, floating by the good ship, in his tangled bed of _Sargossa_ or gulf-weed, was hauled on board by the bronzed and storm-tossed mariners, by whom he was at once introduced to the chief, the man of demonstration, who crushed in the egg’s end to make it stand upright. “A crab!” said he; “a good and fair harbinger of land, which, with God’s help, we shall soon discover.” And so they did, for the Crab’s tale came true, and the West India Islands were almost immediately fallen in with, and duly investigated.

_P. minutus_ is a roving sailor by nature, and is carried on his long sea-voyages by the masses of weed ever carried onward by the warm and genial gulf-stream, and there is little doubt that members of the family to which he belongs, now naturalized on our own coasts, first travelled hither amongst the meshes of their ocean raft, which knew no return. Such specimens as have been procured on the coasts of England, are not as large or brilliant in their colour, as those captured in more genial climes.

The Floating Crabs, as met with in true gulf streams, are extremely pretty little creatures, measuring about eight-tenths of an inch in length. They are clouded and shaded with rich warm brown, yellow, and buff, and well deserve the consideration of the lover of natural history.

The almost innumerable channels stretching between the coral reefs, lagunes, and palm-clad islands of the Southern Seas are inhabited by legions of Crabs of next to endless species and varieties. Many of these feed luxuriously on the vast numbers of “Trepang,” or sea slug (_Holotharia edulis_) found in these latitudes. The human crab industriously seeks his share of this half-grub, half-slug, delicacy, and some account of its nature and mode of preparation may not prove unacceptable to the reader. The _Bêche-de-mer_, as this uninviting looking creature is called by the traders who deal in it, is in immense request in nearly every market in the Chinese empire, as a stock ingredient to be used in the preparation of the rich, glutinous soups and stews, in which the Celestials so much delight. They are also extensively used to mix with little squares of salt pork, sharks’ fins, and pickled bamboo shoots; when thus combined, served up as a stew, and accompanied by diminutive cups of hot “sam shoo,” or rice spirit, John Chinaman, when fortunate enough to get it, yields himself to gastronomic enjoyment, and cares not to call the most important mandarin in the empire, his uncle. As there are brands of high repute amongst wine producers, so are there _high_ and _low_ class _slugs_ in the sea’s great larder, and there are six kinds well known in the trade.

The best are those procured by divers, who prosecute their labours amongst the deep recesses between the reefs, where the water is always of considerable depth. The next quality is taken by nocturnal hunting-parties, who sally forth, torch in hand, and thread the intricate mazes amongst the coral ponds and lagunes, making night hideous by their fiendish shouts, and wild, weird proceedings. The bright moon-light nights so enjoyable within the tropics, are also taken advantage of, for slug-catching purposes, when great quantities of average worth are not unfrequently procured. The inferior sorts are usually gathered by the idlers and children of the islands, who wander about in the rock pools left by the receding tide, and pick up all they can there discover. The trader obtains the various kinds and qualities from the slug-hunters, and at once proceeds to select them according to their market value. Benches are erected, on which they are first cut open with sharp knives, cleansed, and placed without water in very large cauldrons to cook. The juices thrown out by the Trepang are sufficient to prepare him in, and prevent his becoming too dry in the kettle stage of the operation.

From the boiling department they are removed to large wooden sheds, erected for drying them in. Here they are arranged on shelves placed one over the other, where they are constantly turned and most carefully attended to; huge wood fires being kept burning to expedite the process, as it is essential that the slugs should be completely freed from even the slightest suspicion of moisture before they are packed for deposit on board ship. Comparatively few persons have any idea of the immense commercial importance to be attached to this branch of industry; but some rough notion of the enormous number of these questionable-looking dainties annually collected by the Trepang catchers may be formed, when we state, that a single trader from America obtained, during a bartering expedition amongst the Fejee group of islands, in return for the issue of miscellaneous articles and objects of trade, representing no very great value, 25,000 dollars’ worth of Trepang in seven months. And in order to still further show that even this repulsive and insignificant-looking sea-worm is worthy of the consideration of the “grave and staid merchant,” we give the financial return made on one voyage prosecuted for its obtainment:--Peculs[3] of slugs obtained, 1,200; cost of goods and outfit, 3,500 dollars; money return on sales effected, 27,000 dollars. The value of the prepared slugs in the markets of the East may be said to range between ten and sixty dollars per pecul, according to condition, demand, and quality. Advantages even greater than the direct acquisition of money have resulted from this peculiar trade. Discoveries have been made of islands, unknown until the adventurous traders landed on them; and commercial pursuits have been successfully prosecuted with tribes who, in all probability, would have remained hostile to Europeans for ages to come, had not that humble missionary, the sea-slug, opened up the road to friendship, well-reposed trust, and business relationship.

[3] A _Pecul_ weighs 133⅓ lbs., and is a weight common throughout the Southern and Eastern seas.

SHRIMPS AND PRAWNS.

Like our friends the crabs, these are of many species, and inhabit every sea from pole to pole. Our own coast line is pretty generally occupied by them, and very few places of seaside resort fail in affording sport to the Shrimp or Prawn catcher. An error, into which many persons fall, is the confounding of Shrimps and Prawns with each other, although the differences between their general form and appearance are sufficiently marked to strike the most casual observer. The true Shrimp of our waters is the mottled spotted-brown kind, the so-called Sand Shrimp (_Crangon vulgaris_) the subject of the annexed cut. Besides the difference in colour and the hooked form of the fore-feet, the tremendously formidable-looking weapon with which the head of the Prawn is provided, and from which the Pacific Islanders appear to have borrowed the design for their shark-tooth swords, is absent in _C. vulgaris_. Its favourite haunts are the wide, open sand flats and the mouths of tidal rivers. The name “sand raiser,” often applied to it by fishermen, is by no means inappropriate, and arises from the curious habit it has of suddenly raising a perfect cloud of fine sand, round itself--firing, so to speak, “a broadside for the sake of the smoke,” and literally throwing dust in the eyes of his enemies.

This designing little Genius, after raising his own sand storm, adroitly scoops for himself a tiny trench in the soft material on which he rests, and then remaining perfectly still, allows the falling grains to cover him snugly in, like a sheep in a snow-drift. Great numbers of Shrimps of this kind, as well as small flat fish, and an endless number of odd waifs and strays, can be taken with the dredge--a contrivance shown in the following cut. The framework is of iron, the two straight bars or bridle rods are made so as to play freely round the end bars of the frame, as at _a_, whilst a sort of hinge joint admits of their moving up or down, thus insuring close contact between the lower edge of the frame and the bottom, as it is dragged along by a rope, either lowered from a boat or attached to a horse. The extreme end, or purse of the net, is made to untie like the mouth of a bag as at B, which greatly facilitates the removal of its contents when overhauling is needed. The two rings, C C, serve to attach the drag rope to.

An apparatus constructed much on the same general principles, and known as the _keer drag_, is also in much use. A beam of wood and a set of “_yoke lines_” serve to keep the body of the net distended, and the purse is secured with a few turns of twine. The dredge we have figured and described may have a much shorter _bag_ of very strong network attached to it, if the nature of the ground dredged over, and the kind of productions sought, should render it necessary. The net we have represented is mainly intended for the taking of small crustaceans, and such other odds and ends of animal and vegetable life, as may be found on smooth ground and the open sand flats. There are a number of patterns for dredges, more or less complicated, to be obtained from their respective inventors. The reader may perchance wish to design one for himself. Let him, however, bear in mind that simplicity of construction, and thoroughly good iron, are two important elements of successful manufacture, durability, and general usefulness.

The seaside visitor not possessed of one of these contrivances will find such a net as that figured in the above cut extremely useful and amusing. It can be made at a very trifling cost, and is easily repaired when broken. In using it the Shrimp fisherman wades steadily onward, and pushes his net steadily before him until it is supposed that the contents are sufficiently abundant, when they are taken out and fresh research commenced. The rugged rock-strewn shores of many parts of the coast of England, Ireland, and the Channel Islands, require fishing in an entirely different manner, both by pole and hoop-nets. The pole-net as shown in the following cut, is a most efficient instrument for the capture of the different kinds of Prawns and other small crustaceans found in the rock-pools, bays, and inlets of the coast line. The frame supporting the bag of the net should be of sound tough iron, and of flat form, but slightly turned up at the point, as at A. A slight groove, like the fullering of a horse-shoe, must extend entirely round both the under and upper surfaces, in order to form a secure rest for a stout piece of copper bell-wire, with which the bag of the net is secured to the frame. Small holes are now to be drilled at short intervals all round the frame in the bottom of the groove, so that the wire may be passed up and down through them, and so fasten on the net, the bottom of which must be so fashioned and constricted in making, as to terminate in the purse B. The pole C is best made of well-seasoned ash, and should be at least twelve feet long, and bent as at D. This is easily done by heat, as ox-bows and many other objects are formed. When Shrimping with the pole-net, it is a good plan to carry a rough, fork-ended wand, with which to probe crevices between rocks, too small or narrow to admit the net. The largest Prawns often take advantage of such retreats, and dart into them on the least alarm. It is well before wading into a promising-looking pool, to cast a sharp, scrutinising glance into it, when the Prawns will frequently be seen, out of their haunts, sailing about amongst the weeds and ledges with extraordinary grace and elegance of movement, their long feelers and hair-like antennæ spreading out and waving in ceaseless play. By introducing the net cautiously, a number of these gadabouts may be taken before sufficient disturbance is caused to send them off to their lurking-places, to which, when really alarmed, they shoot with the speed of an arrow. The fugitives generally seek a place of concealment as near the surface as possible, and it is well, therefore, to seek high up for them. As a dress for shrimping we strongly recommend a wool shirt, tweed jacket and trousers, wide, felt hat, woollen socks, and a pair of easy shoes in which there are plenty of holes for the water to run out through. A good number of narrow-headed, steel nails should be driven into both soles and heels, in order to prevent slipping on the sloping rock-faces, which, when coated with weeds, are far more difficult to maintain a footing on than ice. Never take a watch, keys, or a pocket-knife of any value with you when you go to shrimp, or they will be rusted to a certainty; but a common knife, and a good store of twine for repairs are essentials. Bags and over-handled baskets are both very inconvenient receptacles for such Prawns or Shrimps as you may be fortunate enough to catch--the bags getting wet and hanging about you in an uncomfortable and chilling manner, whilst the baskets appear to take a malignant pleasure in upsetting themselves in some uncomfortable manner, whenever they are left to themselves, even for a few minutes. Nothing is equal to the ordinary creel carried by the river fisherman. A broad piece of woollen web, such as race-horses’ circingales are made of, forms an excellent shoulder-strap, and is far better for the purpose than leather.

As in crab-catching, advantage should be taken of very low tides, and a very sharp look-out kept for Prawns when the young flood begins to make its approach, as all ocean life is then in full activity. The _Hoop net_ before referred to, and represented in the annexed illustration, is used in a very different manner from that just described. Instead of being worked by hand, it is first baited with offal and then deposited in the bottom of such pools as are likely to contain Prawns. A considerable number of these nets are often taken out for use by one fisherman, who uses a long, fork-ended, pole, for laying down and taking them up; the cork bung, or float, which indicates their whereabouts, serving as a sort of button for the fork of the pole to lift them by, as at A. The hoop and net are kept in a proper position by being suspended like a scale pan by three or more cords. Iron or wood may be used for making the hoops, and a stone placed amongst the bait keeps the net steadily at the bottom. Nets of this kind are, in certain localities, used from boats. Shrimp-fisheries of great commercial importance exist in many localities for the supply of the London and other great markets, and it is only necessary to reflect for an instant on the enormous quantities of these crustaceans eaten every day in the almost endless tea-gardens, supper-rooms, and places of public resort in and about London alone, to be convinced that the consumption of shrimps is truly enormous. Billingsgate teems with them. Sieves worked by nimble hands separate the large from the small, and draw the “_ad valorem_” distinction between _St. James_ and _St. Giles_. Those coral-like aristocrats, the true Prawns of the family (_Palæmon serratus_), are not subjected to the ignoble standard of measurement, but are counted carefully and grudgingly out, like a king’s ransom, and estimated by the dozen. Yet it not unfrequently happens that _P. serratus_ in his infancy and youth, so far associates himself with plebeian company as to be boiled in the same pot with his less distinguished associates. (Here we might moralize, but space forbids.) Mixed with a heterogeneous crew of captured crustaceans of many grades, and the water torture gone through, P. S., like many other young gentlemen wearing jackets of a different colour, loses all individuality, and is ignominiously classed among “_cup shrimps_,” measured out in a vulgar tin half-pint, vended by a costermonger and eaten by a sweep. The countless thousands thus disposed of are not taken with the appliances which a pleasure-seeker or amateur would make use of, but are caught by regular network engines fitted out for the purpose, and worked from boats; and if a stray salmon or two will blunder stupidly into the meshes, _to the extreme annoyance of the owners_, what can H.M.’s Fishery Commissioners do, but pity their wayward flock for straying into the toils of the shrimp-wolf, and coming to an untimely end in consequence? It should be borne in mind that live shrimps are excellent baits for a number of sea and river fish. The perch, although usually classed among fresh-water fish, delights in a “sniff of the briney.” Brackish water he glories, revels, and thrives in; show him a nice fresh shrimp, and see how soon he becomes your humble servant. Grey mullet, too, have a weakness for shrimp enticements, and we know of no more deadly bait for the lordly salmon, than a freshly-caught Prawn. If any proof of its excellence for this purpose is needed, we have only to advise the sceptic to try it, by trolling as with a minnow. The principal food of _Salmo salar_ and some other migratory members of the family _salmonidæ_, when on their long sea voyages, mainly consists of crustacea, and the countless myriads of opossum shrimps (_Mysis vulgaris_) peopling the Northern and Arctic seas, serve to furnish food for the vast shoals of these fish, during their annual visits and migrations to salt water. “The Whalebone,” “Right,” or Greenland Whale, would soon become as extinct as the mastadon, if any shrimp-disease should, in an untimely manner, carry off the lively little opossum. Away among the ice-fields of the far north, where the drifting floes and crashing bergs drift onward before the gale, and where, as winter sets in, the polar bears and Arctic foxes, feel hard times, and are at a loss for a dinner, our huge leviathan acquaintance, the whale, holds high festival; merely opening his cavernous mouth wide enough for a deluge of water to rush in, and then by a sudden effort, sending it out again, through the numerous strainers and fringes, with which nature has gifted him.

“The sounds and seas, each creek and bay,
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals
Of fish that with their fins and shining scales
Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft
Bank the mid-sea: part single or with mate
Graze, the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves
Of coral stray; or sporting with quick glance,
Show to the sun their waved coats dropped with gold
Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend
Moist nutriment; or under rocks their food
In jointed armour watch; on smooth the seal
And bended dolphins play: part huge of bulk,
Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait.
Tempest the ocean: there leviathan,
Hugest of living creatures, on the deep,
Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims,
And seems a moving land; and at his gills
Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out a sea.”

MILTON.