Part 11

There are multitudes too of a charming little kind, which, on account of the pure whiteness of the crown of tentacles, is known as the Snowy. The disk is of the same spotless hue; and the column of a light drab deepening into pale olive towards the summit. With the exception of its colours, this species has a very close resemblance to the Rosy, with which it is generally associated, even as we see it here. And here is the Orange-disk, one of exceeding loveliness, which you might fancy a cross-breed between the Rosy and the Snowy, having the rich brown column of the former, and the white tentacles of the latter; but that it has a character of its own in the disk being of the most brilliant orange-red. All these are scattered in the most abundant profusion, looking like gems sown on the rough rock; or, as I compared them before, like gorgeous composite flowers, of which you might easily fancy the little tufts of green and purple Algæ to be the proper leaves. There are also others, less conspicuous, the Daisy, the Sandalled, the Cave-dweller, the Translucent, more or less numerously mingled with the rest, of which I have not space here to speak, but whose history I have elsewhere written in detail. And we see here and there, for the most part crowded into groups, another interesting kind, the Plumose, which differs much in appearance from its associates, having a taller column much more pellucid, and a crown of tentacles so short, so numerous and so dense, as to form a large confused tuft of frills, which cannot be separated into rows. This kind is always of self-colours, which, however, may be light olive, fawn-brown, orange, flesh-colour, or pure white. Those which the tide has left exposed, loll out of their holes and droop; but under the water they stand erect, with a noble boldness. Each group generally contains individuals of all sizes, and may be considered as a single family of several generations, or, to speak more correctly, of several series of offsets, of different ages. For it is highly characteristic of this species to increase by spontaneous division. When a large individual has been a good while adherent to one spot, and at length chooses to change its quarters, it does so by causing its base to glide slowly along the surface on which it rests;--the glass side of the tank, for instance. But it frequently happens that small irregular fragments of the edge of the base are left behind, as if their adhesion had been so strong, that the animal found it easier to tear its own tissues apart than to overcome it. The fragments so left soon contract become smooth, and spherical or oval in outline; and in the course of a week or fortnight each may be seen furnished with a margin of tentacles and a disk; transformed, in fact, into perfect though minute Anemones. Occasionally a separated piece, more irregularly jagged than usual, will, in contracting, constringe itself, and form two smaller fragments, united by an isthmus, which goes on attenuating until a fine thread-like line only is stretched from one to the other; this at length yields, the substance of the broken thread is rapidly absorbed into the respective pieces, which soon become two young Anemones.

All the kinds which we have seen in this locality belong to one great family, the Sagartiadæ, a group which includes nearly one-third of the seventy species of Anemones and Corals which we have on the British coast; and certainly the most beautiful and the most known, taking them one with another. They are distinguished by a remarkable peculiarity; the skin of the body is pierced with minute holes, capable of being opened and closed at will, out of which can be forced curious slender threads, which ordinarily lie coiled up in great profusion in the interior of the animal. These threads are almost entirely composed of those extraordinary capsules, called cnidæ, or nettling-cells, found indeed in most of the tissues, but nowhere in such abundance as here, which eject with amazing force a poisonous filament having the strength and elasticity of a wire, and furnished with reversed barbs, but of almost inconceivable tenuity. The filaments, projected by myriads at the pleasure of the animal, penetrate deeply into the flesh of other soft-bodied creatures, and cause immediate paralysis and speedy death.

DAHLIA WARTLET.

The waning day and the turning tide warn us homeward; but we shall have time to visit a fine dark overarched pool in the rocks which I know on our route. Here it is; noticeable because of its being the chosen residence of a colony of that magnificent species, the Dahlia Wartlet. All round the curving sides of the sea-washed basin, crowding one upon the other beneath the projecting angles, or seated in single majesty on some prominence, we see them flaunting the most gorgeous colours, and attaining a diameter of expanse that no other, at least of our common forms, can rival or approach. The wide but low column, rough with coarse warts, may be olive, or deep green, or purple-crimson, or light green splashed and streaked with scarlet like an apple; the disk is equally varied, but generally displays diverging bands of rich red which fork and embrace the tentacles; while the tentacles, short, stout, and conical, may be white with pellucid rings, deep crimson, or of the highest flush of rose, with a broad ring of lilac. Widely expanded, the Crassicornis is as good a mimicry of the great dahlias of our gardens, as the Sagartiæ are of the daisies and pompone chrysanthemums. Even bees are occasionally deceived. Mr. Couch, when once looking at a fine specimen which was expanded so close to the surface that only a thin film of water covered the disk and tentacles, saw a roving bee alight on the tempting surface, evidently mistaking the anemone for a veritable blossom; the tenacious tentacles instantly seized it, and though it struggled a good deal for its liberty, retained the disappointed bee till it was drowned, when it was soon consigned to the insatiable stomach. The story reminds us of the well-known fact that the flesh-flies, deceived by the carrion smell of some of the Stapeliæ, sometimes lay their eggs on the flowers; both cases showing that animal instinct is not quite so unerring as it is frequently represented.

PLATE 8.

P. H. GOSSE, del. LEIGHTON, BROS.

DAHLIA WARTLET. ]

LUCERNARIA.

Attached to the thin crumpled leaf of an Ulva in this pool is an animal, having much of the texture, and somewhat of the form, of an Anemone. Formerly, indeed, it was associated in the same group, but it is now ascertained to have more affinities with the translucent and often colourless free-swimming jelly-fishes. From its resemblance to an elegant lamp, it is called Lucernaria. We must suppose a Medusa to be turned hollow upwards, and an adhesive foot to be produced from what was before the summit of its “umbrella;” and little more is necessary to constitute a Lucernaria. The most observable peculiarity is that the tentacles, which are very minute, and have the form of a globose head seated on a short stem, are disposed in compact groups of as many as seventy, which groups, eight in number, like so many round balls, are seated on projecting angles of the margin; while from the centre of the hollow rises a mouth, with four protrusile lips in form of a square. The colour is a dull dark red or liver brown. The animal preys on other creatures, which it captures by means of poison-capsules, and swallows, much as the anemones do.

And thus we wend our way homeward; meditating much as we glide across the smooth bay, on the wondrous elegance of form, the exquisite brilliance of colours, the great variety, the instincts, the powers, the most elaborate apparatus, bestowed on these humble creatures, of no apparent use whatever to man; indeed, until quite recently, utterly neglected by him and unknown, though exhibiting their loveliness under his very eyes, and close to his doors. We meditate on these things, and ask, For what purpose is all this profuse expenditure of power, wisdom, taste, skill? We hear the answer in the choral praise of those who know more of these matters than we can yet attain to,--“Thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are, and were created.”

FOOTNOTES:

Actinia mesembryanthemum, represented in Plate VII., at the lower right-hand corner.

Anthea cereus, var. smaragdina, represented at the left hand of Plate IX.

M. Coste has lately communicated a paper to the Academy of Sciences on the progress of his artificial oyster-beds on the western coast of France. Several thousands of the inhabitants of the island of Ré have been for the last four years engaged in cleansing their muddy coast of the sediments which prevented oysters from congregating there; and as the work advances the seed wafted over from Nieulle and other oyster localities settles in the new beds, and, added to that transplanted, peoples the coast, so that 72,000,000 of oysters, from one to four years old, and nearly all marketable, is the lowest average per annum registered by the local administration, representing, at the rate of from 25 to 30 francs per thousand, which is the current price in the locality, a sum of about two millions of francs, the produce of an extremely limited surface. That the waves or currents carry the seed of oysters is a well-known fact, since the walls of sluices newly erected are often covered with them. In the island of Ré, the existence of the oyster-beds, however, no longer depends upon this contingency, they being now in a state of permanent self-reproduction. The distinction of oyster-beds into those of collection and those of reproduction is quite unnecessary, since the property of reproduction belongs to them all. In some localities it is sufficient to prepare the emerging banks for collection to see them soon covered with seed; but in other places nothing would be obtained without transplanting proper subjects, an operation which by no means impairs their reproductive qualities. The concession of emerging banks is anxiously applied for by the inhabitants of the coast; the more so as improvements in the working of this branch of trade are of daily occurrence. Thus, Dr. Kemmerer, of Ré, covers a number of tiles with a coating of a kind of mastic, brittle enough to enable him to detach the small oysters from it. When this coating is well covered with seed he gets it off all in one piece, which he carries to the place where the seed is to grow. The same tile he coats a second time, and so on as long as the seed will deposit upon it. In short, wherever the violence of the currents and the instability of the bottom do not present irresistible obstacles the cultivation of the oysters has become a lucrative business.

Alcyonium digitatum, for which see Plate VII. It is the white object near the middle of the picture, partly concealed by the intervening leaf of green Ulva.

Sagartia rosea, of which a specimen, only partially open, is delineated in the centre foreground of Plate VII.

Sagartia miniata.

Sagartia nivea; two of this species, one closed, the other partially opened, are seen at the left corner of the foreground in Plate VII.

Sagartia venusta, a group of which occupies the right-hand side of Plate IX., including both expanded and closed individuals.

Sag. bellis, sphyrodeta, troglodytes, pura.

See my History of the British Sea-anemones.

Actinoloba dianthus.

For a fuller account of these organs and their offensive function, which constitute an apparatus not exceeded in interest by any that I know of in the whole realm of natural history, I beg to refer the reader to my Naturalist’s Rambles on the Devonshire Coast, and my Actinologia Britannica, passim.

Tealia crassicornis, which forms the subject of Plate VIII.

Lucernaria campanulata is represented in the upper right-hand corner of Plate VII.

IV.

APRIL.

Shall we explore the sands to-day? A bright sandy beach well exposed to the sea is no bad hunting-ground for the naturalist, bare as it looks, and proverbial as is its character for sterility,--“barren as the sand on the sea-shore.” And specially is it likely to be productive, when, as is often the case, the wide reach of yellow sand is interrupted by one or more isolated areas of rough rocks. Goodrington Sands, lying in the hollow of Torbay, afford just these conditions; and thither will we bend our steps this April morning.