Let us then scramble down to the beautiful Anstey’s Cove, along the steep path tangled with briers and ferns; where the swelling buds of the hawthorn and honeysuckle are already bursting, while the blackbird mellowly whistles in the fast-greening thicket, and the lark joyously greets the mounting sun above us. Yonder on the shingle lies a boat, newly painted in white and green, for the attraction of young ladies of maritime aspirations; she is hauled up high and dry; but the sinewy arms of honest Harry Bate, who hearing footsteps has come out of his little grotto under the rock to reconnoitre, will soon drag her down to the rippling waves, and, “for the small sum of a shilling an hour,” will pull us over the smooth and pond-like sea, whithersoever we may choose to direct him.
“Jump aboard, please, Sir! Jump in, ladies! jump in, little master!” And now, as we take our seats on the clean canvas cushions astern, the boat’s bottom scrapes along with a harsh grating noise over the white shingle-pebbles, and we are afloat.
SEA-CAVERN.
First to the caverns just outside yonder lofty point. The lowness of the tide will enable us to take the boat into them, and the calmness of the sea will preclude much danger of her striking the rocks; especially as watchful Bate will be on the alert, boat-hook in hand, to keep her clear. Now we lie in the gloom of the lofty arch, gently heaving and sinking and swaying on the slight swell, which, however smooth the surface, is always perceptible when you are in a boat among rocks, and which invests such an approach with a danger that a landsman does not at all appreciate. Yet the water, despite the swell, is glassy, and invites the gaze down into its crystalline depths, where the little fishes are playing and hovering over the dark weeds. The sides of the cavern rise around us in curved planes, washed smooth and slippery by the dashing of the waves of ages, and gradually merge into the massive angles and projections and groins of the broken roof, whence a tuft or two of what looks like samphire depends. But notice the colonies of the Smooth Anemone or Beadlet clustered about the sides; many of them are adhering to the stone walls, several feet above the water. These have been left uncovered for hours, and are none the worse for it. They are closed, the many tentacles being concealed by the involution of the upper part of the body, so that they look like balls, or hemispheres, or semi-ovals of flesh; or like ripe fruits, so plump and succulent and glossy and high-coloured, that we are tempted to stretch forth the willing hand, to pluck and eat. Some are greengages, some Orleans plums, some magnum-bonums,--so various are their rich hues; but look beneath the water, and you see them not less numerous, but of quite another guise. These are all widely expanded; the tentacles are thrown out in an arch over the circumference, leaving a broad flat disk; just like a many-petalled flower of gorgeous hues: indeed, we may fancy that here we see the blossoms, and there the ripened fruit. Do not omit, however, to notice the beads of pearly blue that stud the margin all round, at the base of the over-arching tentacles. These have been supposed by some to be eyes; the suggestion, however, rests on no anatomical ground, and is, I am afraid, worthless; though I cannot tell you what purpose they do serve.
PLATE 7.
P. H. GOSSE, del. LEIGHTON, BROS.
SNOWY ANEMONE. DEAD-MAN’S FINGER. ROSY ANEMONE. LUCERNARIA. SMOOTH BEADLET. ]
TANGLE FORESTS.
Away! for I wish to explore another scene not less romantic than this, and which I know by experience to be much more prolific in strange and beautiful forms of life. Harry shall pull us round yonder low point, which bears the appellation of Hope’s Nose, calling on the way to look at some one of the inlets that lie between the long projecting points at the foot of Black Rock. Here the boat floats over dense forests of great brown sea-weeds, the Laminariæ, which lift their dark masses, and wave to and fro, with a majestic dignity. Here is the narrow crumpled blade of the Oarweed, of a rich yellow brown; and the wavy stem of the Furbelows springing from its hedgehog-like bladder; but chiefly is the forest composed of vast plants of the Tangle, whose broad deep-brown fronds of a substance like stout leather, French-polished, divide into many long straps, slide over each other, and flap to and fro in the heave of the sea. Yonder we see on the broadest part of a frond, just before it divides, what seems a flower, as large as a chrysanthemum, but of the liveliest pea-green hue, every long petal tipped with rosy pink. Hand over the boat-hook, and carefully lift the tangle to the surface. Now we have it fully in view. It is the green variety of the Opelet; so called because it is scarcely capable of infolding the walls of the body over the disk and tentacles; these therefore remain habitually open, though the animal is at times much less expanded than at others. We now see it in its most charming condition; the short fawn-coloured column inflated, the mouth elevated on a strong cone in the centre of the wide saucer-shaped disk, and the numerous tentacles arranged in groups, as if several stems sprang from the same root, long, slender, very flexible, twisting about like the snaky locks of Medusa’s head, all of the most delicate light green, with a rich satin lustre, and all tipped with the richest crimson-lilac or light rose,--a most beautiful harmony of colours. The animal adheres by a broad base firmly to the disk of the tangle, and awaits, as it waves hither and thither, the approach of one of the little fishes that play heedlessly at bo-peep among the fronds. No sooner does one of them touch the far-stretching tentacles, than a virulent and penetrating poison shoots through its frame; its vigour is benumbed in an instant; it ceases to struggle; its powerful fins strike the water no more; others of the fatal tentacles enwrap themselves around it, and drag it towards the mouth, already protruding and expanding in expectation of the morsel; where it is in a few minutes engulfed, and soon digested in that capacious maw.
PLATE 9.
P. H. GOSSE, del. LEIGHTON, BROS.
GREEN OPELET. ORANGE-DISK ANEMONE. ]
It is not very uncommon for a single specimen of this species to become two by a perpendicular division. The whole process has been observed. A little notch first appears in the margin of the disk, which extends, cutting through the tentacles of that side, splitting the disk across, proceeding through the tentacles on the opposite side till it divides the margin there also. Meanwhile, it has advanced downward in an equal ratio, till it has reached the base; and at length there are two half-opelets still adhering in the closest proximity. Now, however, the two raw and open surfaces close up, and the bases glide gradually apart. A thick wall of flesh forms between the stomach and the wound, and new tentacles develop themselves on this. The two Opelets are complete.
RAISED BEACHES.
Half-an-hour’s vigorous pulling has doubled the long promontory of Hope’s Nose, a wilderness of stones, like what I suppose, from published descriptions, the foot of Mount Sinai to be, and brought us, between two raised beaches, into the pretty cove of Meadfoot, capped by elegant villas. These beaches, evidences of the lifting of the land, for they surely once stood, as beaches stand now, at the sea-level, are situate, the one on the main, the other on the Thatcher, a rocky islet some two hundred yards off shore. A few minutes more, and we are in a wild scene indeed. Isolated rocks stand up, in angular masses, upright columns, and sharp peaks, out of the sea, which is quite deep, even at lowest spring-tide. The coast itself too is rugged, precipitous, and in many spots quite perpendicular; one bold promontory, which runs out with a narrow knife-edge summit, is perforated by a natural archway of lofty elevation, of very striking aspect. It is distinctly visible for miles along the shores of Torbay, and is dignified with the name of London Bridge.
Here, then, is our fishing-ground to-day. Threading the slender passages between the perpendicular rocks, or creeping-in close under their overhanging landward sides, where no ray of the sun has ever penetrated, we hang on by the points and groins, and eagerly peer below. Into one lane our boatman hesitates to venture. It is but just wide enough to allow the boat to pass; indeed here and there she cannot without rubbing her gunwales; and if a stronger swell than usual were to roll-in from seaward while entangled, her side might be stove-in before she could be extricated. However, its gloom looks so tempting, and the water among the islets is so very smooth, that we succeed in persuading him, and we push and drag into the very midst of the watery alley. The rocks rise close on either hand like lofty walls, and descend as perpendicularly, deep and far down beneath our keel; as we can well see, for the water is of lustrous transparency.
LIFE ON SEA-ROCKS.
And what a sight is here! Hundreds of Anemones of many species are studding the walls almost as thick as they can be packed. Every tiny crevice, every hollow, every hole left by Pholas or Saxicava (and the rock is riddled and honeycombed by these burrowing mollusks), holds its little knob of plump flesh; some lolling out with a dewdrop hanging from the end; some just filling the cavity, and allowing the tips of the crowded tentacles to peep out as a speck of white, or of orange, or of rosy lilac, according to the species; and some retreated to the bottom of their stony fortress, to be detected only by the probing touch. Other forms too there are;--dead men’s fingers, white and yellow; worms, green and brown and grey, twining in and out, and grasping the sharp edges of the rock; tunicate mollusks, simple and compound; univalves and bivalves; sponges of all bright colours by hundreds:--what a maze, what a teeming world of life it is!
All this is at and above the level of the eye. Now let us bend over the boat’s gunwale, and gaze below, with our faces brought nearly to the surface of the sea. Here the sight is far more wonderful, and far more attractive; for here the life is seen in all its fullest activity, every creature performing its functions, and pursuing its instincts with the most single earnestness, self-contained, and altogether regardless of the myriad fellow-beings that surround it and press upon it, in this eager contest and struggle for maintained existence.
DEAD MAN’S FINGER.
A yard or two below the surface the eye is caught by a great oyster projecting from the vertical wall. It is a strange situation for an oyster to be in, but it shows how the infant young, in their free-swimming form, so different from their ultimate condition, may be carried by the aid of their own cilia, and the sea-currents, into the most improbable situations, and may there find circumstances congenial for permanent settlement. Perhaps, however, its brown and rough shell would scarcely have attracted our notice, but for the rider that sits upon it. A specimen of the Dead-man’s finger, of noble dimensions, has selected this shell as the seat of its dominion; and we can discern the three or four great lobes of which it consists all surrounded by the gauzy cloud that tells of the thousands of translucent polyps projected from every part of its periphery. Fine as is that specimen, however, there are scores of others, many of which are of equal dimensions, and more easily accessible. By the aid of the hammer and cold-chisel, we may easily secure a specimen without harming it, after searching a while to select one which is seated on some projection of the rock that can be struck off. Thus removed, and at once transferred to one of our collecting jars, the curious compound animal will in captivity display its beauties, though, it must be confessed, it is often rather bashful before company. The lobes into which the mass is divided are sufficiently like stumpy fingers to have given it a popular designation, while their dull white hue has suggested that the fingers are those of a corpse. The animal is sometimes, however, called Cows’ paps, and sometimes Mermaids’ gloves; but I think this latter is a book name.
When we examine it in the aquarium, after it has recovered its equanimity disturbed by the rude shocks of the hammer battering about its castle, we see that the lobes are greatly swollen and sub-pellucid, from the imbibition of water into the canals with which its whole substance is penetrated. When out of water the surface was studded with shallow pits, as if the poor thing had at some period of its history been afflicted with the small-pox. Now, however, these pittings reveal their true character; for each has protruded itself in the form of a long but slender polyp, of exquisite translucency and perfect symmetry. It resembles a tubular flower with eight narrow pointed petals, which arch outward like those of a campanula or tulip. Each petal carries on its edges a row of very slender transparent filaments, arranged like the teeth of a comb, which also arch downward, and greatly augment the beauty of the flower-like polyp.
Structurally, this polyp is closely allied to the common forms of the Sea Anemones; the most obvious peculiarity being, that a multitude are combined into one mass, with a common life animating the whole. The fleshy mass is of a spongy texture, full of branching water-canals, and containing a multitude of calcareous spicula of characteristic forms. They resemble gnarled branches of oak, with the branchlets broken off, leaving ragged ends. The skin of the polyps contains, at certain fixed spots, groups of similar spicula, but much more minute. The microscope is necessary to discern these, as well as some other details of the organization of this very interesting creature.
The technical character by which this animal with its allies is distinguished from the proper Anemones, is that its plan of organization is fashioned on the number eight, whereas the true Anemones have six, as their characteristic number. Thus, however numerous the tentacles of an anemone may be,--and in the case of the Daisy or the Plumose, they often amount to several hundreds,--the young animal began with six, and the increase is normally a multiplication of six, though accidental irregularities do occur. On the other hand, the tentacles of the Alcyonium are permanently eight, as are the vertical partitions of the interior of the body; and by consequence, the chambers into which those membranous partitions divide it.
But we must not allow the interest attaching to these forms to divert our attention from the Anemones themselves. All the species which we saw on the rock above the water, are here below it, and all displaying their beauties in an incomparably more charming fashion. We can compare the whole submerged wall to nothing else than a parterre of most brilliant flowers, taken bodily and set on end. The eye is bewildered with their number and variety, and knows not which to look at first. Here are the Rosy Anemones, with a firm fleshy column of rich sienna-brown, paler towards the base, and with the upper part studded with indistinct spots, marking the situation of certain organs which have an adhesive power. The disk is of a pale neutral tint, with a crimson mouth in the centre, and a circumference of crowded tentacles of the most lovely rose-purple, the rich hue of that lovely flower that bears the name of General Jacqueminot. In those specimens that are most widely opened, this tentacular fringe forms a blossom whose petals overhang the concealed column, expanding to the width of an inch or more; but there are others in which the expansion is less complete in different degrees, and these all give distinct phases of loveliness. We find a few among the rest, which, with the characteristically-coloured tentacles, have the column and the disk of a creamy white; and one in which the disk is of a brilliant orange, inclining to scarlet. Most lovely little creatures are they all.
SCARLET-FRINGED ANEMONE.
Commingled with these charming Roses, there are others which attain a larger size, occurring in even greater abundance. They are frequently an inch and a half in diameter when expanded, and some are even larger than this. You may know them at once by observing that the outer row of tentacles, and occasionally also some of the others, are of a scarlet hue, which, when examined minutely, is seen to be produced by a sort of core of that rich hue pervading the pellucid tentacle. The species is commonly known as the Scarlet-fringed Anemone. The inner rows of tentacles, which individually are larger than those of the outer rows, are pale, marked at the base with strong bars of black. The disk is very variable in hue, but the column is for the most part of the same rich brown as we saw in the Rosy. Yet, though these are characteristic colours, there are specimens which diverge exceedingly from them, and some approach so near the Roses, as to be scarcely distinguishable from them. Generally, however, the scarlet-cored outer tentacles, and a peculiar habit of throwing the tentacular margin of the disk into crumpled folds, will be found sufficient to determine this very handsome kind of Anemone from its nearest allies.
PLUMOSE ANEMONE.
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