Part 6

The popularity of the Lobster extends far beyond the limits of our island, and he travels about to all parts of the known world, like an imprisoned spirit soldered up in an air-tight box. It has been said that during the Indian war a box of regimental stores belonging to our forces fell into the hands of the enemy, who thinking that a great capture of some kind of deadly and destructive ammunition had been made, rammed the painted tin cases, with goodly charges of powder behind them, into their immense guns, laid them steadily on the devoted British troops, and then with a flash and a thundering roar, preserved lobster, from Fortnum and Mason’s, was scattered far and wide over the battlefield. Fishermen declare that thunder or the reports of artillery causes the lobsters in the store boxes or wells, in which they are brought alive to market, to suddenly cast off their large claws, just as the crabs do in their battles with each other; a smart blow will cause a lobster to throw off a damaged claw, and thus stop bleeding in the manner before described.

The regular Lobster season may be said approximately to last from the month of March to August. About the middle or latter end of the last-mentioned month the shifting of shells takes place, and the fish is unfit for human food; but, like silkworms after a change of skin, they commence feeding in the most voracious manner directly the new garment is durable enough to admit of their taking their walks abroad, and their temporary seclusion and compulsory abstinence is amply made up for by a course of heavy feeding. The lost plumpness and condition soon return, and the winter season furnishes Lobsters equal in goodness and flavour to any caught “in high lobster time.” It has been remarked by many experienced shell-fish dealers that the Lobster is exceedingly local in its habits, and there are some who profess to be able to recognise the natives of particular localities by their general appearance and the colour of their shells. Unlike some crustaceans who are coldly indifferent to the welfare of their offspring, the mamma Lobster keeps her little brood about her until the youthful lobsterkins are big enough to start in life for themselves.

The coasts of British North America, as well as many portions of the sea board of the United States, abound in mail-clad inhabitants of many kinds. In some localities great amusement is at times afforded by their capture--a sort of pic-nic or lobster frolic being organised. A boat with plenty of eatables, drinkables, and a capacious cooking pot are provided, and long poles with their ends split (much as the extremities of clothes-pins are fashioned) prepared. On the boat or skiff being propelled slowly through the shallow water, a sharp look-out is kept on the regions below, and on the Lobster being discovered, the split end of the pole is lowered quietly, and with the greatest caution, until just over the unsuspecting victim’s back, when by a sudden downward thrust, the forceps like instrument securely nips him, and he is brought to the surface in spite of his claws and the pinches he inflicts on the tough, unyielding wood. Some overhanging rock, or pleasant nook on the shore, is usually selected as a place in which to dine and cook the proceeds of the Lobster hunt. The driftwood and such dry sticks and shrubs as the neighbourhood will afford, are used as fuel to boil the pot, and the revels proceed right joyously. The bays, shallows, and mouths of rivers on the coast of Prince Edward’s Island, abound in a species of sea-weed, known amongst the inhabitants as “eel grass;” on this vast numbers of Lobsters feed as in a rich sea garden. To these favoured hunting-grounds the Lobster-catchers betake themselves, and by wading little more than half-leg deep gather as many as they require. A bushel basket has been filled in this way in less than an hour.

Like the branching growths of sub-marine life which form the connecting link between the vegetable and animal kingdoms, we find crustaceans, dwelling, so to speak, on the border lands of other races, and linking the shrimp, crab, and lobster families together; partaking of the nature of each, but being identical with neither: such are the so-called squat lobsters or Galathea. Three well-marked kinds are to be met with more or less abundantly; these are the Olive squats (G. squamifera), the scarlet squat (G. nexa), and the painted squat (G. strigosa); all these are of comparatively small size, the largest or painted description rarely exceeding three and a half inches in length. The singular alertness of all the race renders capture somewhat difficult. Like the lobsters they possess extraordinary powers of vision and retrograde movement. The horns are extremely long, and so sensitive that the slightest touch seems to reveal at once the nature of an approaching object, and enables the alarmed squat to seek a safe sanctuary between the rock clefts, from which, he is by no means easy to withdraw.

The spined lobster (Palinurus vulgaris), crawfish, cray, or crowder, will from its thorn-coated shell, long horns, powerful nippers, and generally formidable appearance, be familiar to most of our readers. Like most other crustaceans the Cray delights in a home among rugged sunken rocks, and is taken in the traps laid down for ordinary lobsters and crabs. It not unfrequently happens whilst line-fishing over sunken reefs, or on rocky ground, that, on a bite being felt and the line drawn in, a steady drag is felt as though a cuttlefish had grasped the bait; on looking down into sea beneath the boat, in all probability the Cray will be seen in all his spined armament, coming on at the end of the line like a sea porcupine with horns. Some care will be needed to coax him deftly onward until the net is well under, or your line and Cray are likely to part company. These thorn-clad heroes, “in their spiked armour like Egyptian porke pigs,” are not held in as high esteem for the table as their more smoothly-plated relations--their flesh being of harder texture and of a sweet flavour is objected to by professed lobster-eaters; still, to our taste, a well-conditioned “porke pig,” the shape of a Crayfish, is by no means to be despised. Some portions of the Pacific Ocean, and the warm seas of the East, contain them in vast numbers. Many spots on the coast of South America, and the bays and inlets of the island of Juan Fernandez, literally swarm with them; and it is to be questioned whether Robinson Crusoe, or Man Friday either, would have ever consented to leave that fertile and picturesque locality if they had entertained the least idea that it was surrounded by countless thousands of Crays in a perfect fever of anxiety as to whose good fortune it would be to get boiled first.

Some idea may be formed of the abundance of animated creatures of this and other kinds to be taken in these seas, by the following account of the fishing to be obtained in them, given by the Hon. F. Walpole:--“The fishing afforded the best return for labour, and a boat might be filled in four hours with hook and line only. Fish swarmed of every size and colour, and seemingly of every variety of appetite, for they took any bait. The bottom was literally lined with Crawfish of a large size; some must have weighed five pounds at least. There needed no hook--a piece of anything let down on a string to the bottom was enough; they saw it, grasped it, and kept their hold till you had seized them by their long feelers and borne them into the boat, where they crawled about and extended their feelers as if in search of more bait. The Conger eels, which were almost as numerous as the Crawfish, were great enemies to us, for they took up time in the catching, and their execution, which followed immediately, was a work of some skill--Gordian knots, twists, and all manner of wriggles being used to evade the knife raised to slay them, and frequently their powerful teeth enabled them to bite through the wire and escape with hook, bait, and line. Catching Crawfish was one of the favourite amusements of the seamen. One man held a pole, on which was fastened a bait thrown into the water near the beach; one or two others stood ready, and when the Crawfish, allured by the bait, had approached within attainable distance, those dogs of war pounced upon him, and he was high and dry upon the beach before he had even meditated a retreat. The boat-keepers in the boats alongside used to let down pieces of net spread on the hoops of a cask, with pieces of bait inside them. In a few minutes these were hauled up, and one of our simple friends appeared seated, greatly enjoying the travelling. Sometimes two or three came up struggling for standing room. But enough of Crawfish, I will only add that we thoroughly enjoyed both the catching and the eating. We had crawfish for breakfast, crawfish for dinner, crawfish for supper, and crawfish for any incidental meal we could cram in between. The last I saw of my friends was with their long feelers wreathing about, as they were borne about Valparaiso as presents on our return.”

We learn from the old authors that Apicius, after profoundly studying the culinary art at Minturnus, in Campania, where he feasted right royally on Crawfish, in order, it is said, to strengthen and improve the appetite--at length feeling that change of scene and provender were needed, and opportunely hearing that Craws of marvellous size and surpassing excellence were captured on the coast of Africa, the sage knew no rest until he had obtained a ship and had set sail for that favoured land. The voyage proved prosperous, and, as might be reasonably anticipated, as the shore was neared a sea-earned appetite of more than ordinary intensity set in, and the philosopher’s first thoughts rested on the delicious crustaceans he had journeyed so far to enjoy. The dusky fishers, roused into bustle and activity by the august arrival, soon brought the spoils of their crawfish hunt, rejoicing no doubt at their quick success; but the Craws were found, like most other things when made the subject of long anticipation, by no means equal to the exaggerated standard, and were contemptuously sent with their owners to the right-about, orders being given that larger specimens might be immediately brought. On being informed that to do so would be impossible, Apicius at once expressed his supreme contempt for Africa, Crawfish, and all else, ordered his pilot to attend, and gave directions for instant departure for Italy.

Pliny speaks of Crawfish of such huge dimensions, “four cubits long,” that we are almost led to believe they must have been the creation of a wild, distempered dream rather than substantial realities.

The tables of ancient Rome were often garnished with dishes of Crawfish served with asparagus; and it is our decided opinion that many worse things are daily partaken of by the gourmands of this enlightened age, notwithstanding the much-vaunted march of improvement in cookery.

The coral reefs fringing the island of Mauritius afford shelter to members of the family of Palinurus, which in both size and splendour of colouring far excel those taken in our seas. Some we had an opportunity of examining when freshly caught, by the fishermen of that fertile isle, looked so much like works of art that we could almost fancy Pallisey, that king of potters, must have returned to life, and that these were some of his choicest productions. Some were of delicate sea-green banded with white and ultra-marine blue, alternately. Others were striped with pale yellow, black, and green, whilst all were so highly glazed, and carried such a brilliant polish, that we deeply regretted the perishable nature of living things, and sighed as we reflected on the waste of so much loveliness on the more than half-heathen crew of Malabar coolies who grinned and chattered round the captives, and who had no appreciation whatever for crustacean perfection, except in association with rice and a brass cooking-pot.

THE COMMON RIVER CRAYFISH.

(Astacus fluviatilis.)

This little crustacean is very abundant in many of the rivers of England, although it is by no means as general as might be anticipated from its habits and mode of life. Rivulets and rivers in which clear streams flow, are its favourite resort, and the holes amongst the roots of trees, stones, or banks beneath the water, form snug retreats for it. It is somewhat strange that in the western portion of England, where running streams abound, the fresh water Cray is (except by name) unknown. Its food consists of animal substances, the spawn of fish, vegetable matter, the larvæ of water insects, &c. The rich scarlet colour assumed after boiling makes the Cray a great favourite for garnishing purposes; pic-nic parties are often formed for the sport afforded in taking them. Long sticks or rods with cord lines, to which pieces of bait are tied, are made use of to allure the Cray within the reach of a small hand-net, when he is scooped out; some enterprising anglers endeavour to throw them over their heads without using the net, others in their anxiety to inveigle the coquettish crustacean, slip on some slippery tree-trunk or moss-grown stone, and pay an unwilling visit to the home of the Crays at the bottom. Pinched fingers and other small catastrophes serve but to add to the general fun and hilarity of the river-side revellers. In some of the West India Islands torchlight expeditions of a like character are made to the streams flowing from the hills, and the Crays lifted out, after having been previously treated to pieces of manioc-root abundantly cast in the water for them. This substance has the property of stupefying such shell-fish as are silly enough to eat it, and the Cray pays the penalty of his too unsuspicious disposition. The rivers of France are abundantly supplied with Ecrevisses, as they are called in that country; enormous numbers are eaten every day in Paris, and the other large cities and towns of the continent. They are prepared in various ways for the table, and the celebrated potage à la bisque is made from them.

A number of methods are had recourse to for their capture, amongst which may be mentioned the sinking by stones, in localities known to abound with them, rough bundles of thorn-sticks, with offal of some description fastened up in them. The Crays, in their attempts to obtain the dainty tit-bits, force their way through the entangled twigs, and are unable to retreat with sufficient speed to escape being drawn out when the Cray-catcher hooks out his treacherous fascine. Small pieces of frog are highly esteemed baits. These are laid down in considerable numbers along the course of the stream, and are after some time visited, and the feasting Crays brought to bag. Some persons are sufficiently indifferent to the nips they receive as to insert the hand and arm beneath the roots and hollow banks, and so drag forth their prey. There are other methods for Cray capture, but most of them depend on the use of bait placed in traps, much like those used for prawns, or some contrivance where entrance is easy and exit difficult, and it is remarkable that in every country in the known world the same principle is taken advantage of, in the construction of traps for fish, birds, and animals. Whether we visit the almost unknown chains of ponds among the gum-tree woods of Australia, the fern-clad river-banks of New Zealand, the great streams flowing through North-west America, or the tangled forests bordering the jeels, nullahs, and rivers of Central India, basket traps of various sizes and forms, but all alike in their mode of operation, will be found. Some we stumbled on while hunting among the Bheels of Candeish were of elegant design,--trumpet mouthed, and beautifully woven from the split-up fibres of single bamboo-joints, the knot at the small end being left to form a sort of plug-hole, through which the bait was introduced.

A. fluviatilis shifts his shell, much in the same manner as his salt-water cousins, and, like them, is painfully nervous and retiring in his habits during the hardening of the new case with which nature in due time protects him. Like the sea lobster, the Cray is wonderfully prolific, producing as many as 100,000 eggs in the breeding season, which are carried securely about for some time by the parent fish tucked up under the abdomen, and defended by the lateral rows of legs and claws. A notion prevails in some localities that the goodness of water may be surely tested by boiling a Cray in it, when, if the quality is all that could be wished, the colour of the Cray should be clear and bright red; whereas, if impure, the fish is said to remain dull and lustreless. This, although a very old opinion, appears much on a par with the idea, equally old, that a frog in a tea-kettle would prevent the water therein contained from ever boiling. We greatly fear, however, that a good brisk fire would not only go far towards dissipating the superstition, but at the same time make it peculiarly unpleasant for the frog. It has been stated, on good authority, that A. fluviatilis lives to a good old age under favourable circumstances. Desmarest says that it has been known to live for more than twenty years, and that it increases in size as age advances. We are disposed to think, however, that there must be a limit to development far within twenty years, or we should at times encounter some “grandfather Cray” who would be far more pleasant to follow than to meet, at any rate in his own element.

The ancient Greeks appear, from the writings of early historians, to have held the Cray in high esteem; and Alexandria had the reputation for producing it of the best quality. The Romans, too, were not behind-hand in their appreciation of the luxury, and some quaint ingredients are mentioned by the old writers as being requisite to complete the operations connected with its preparation. After being boiled, we are told that the Cray was eaten flavoured with cummin and seasoned with pepper, alisander, parsley, dried mint, and more cummin ground and mixed with honey, vinegar, and garum, with some liquid perfume. Bosc informs us that “Crayfishes can be preserved several days, not too warm, in baskets with some fresh grass, such as the nettle, or in a bucket with three-eighths of an inch of water. If there were enough water in it to cover them they would die in a few moments, because their great consumption of air does not allow them to live in water unless it is continually renewed.” The strange, mysterious waters flowing through the mammoth caves of Kentucky contain, amongst other wonders, considerable numbers of these interesting creatures; and we have recently been favoured with a sight of two specimens of remarkable size and beauty of form brought from the interior of Venezuela.

Although neither crab, shrimp, or lobster, the bold and adventurous diver as a “submarine armour-clad,” holds a conspicuous position, as with helmet of proof, and ponderous, metal-soled boots, he plunges fearlessly beneath the wave, and prosecutes his researches “full fathoms five,” amongst the strange, weird fastnesses and cavernous depths of the deep sea. Huge and terrible as he with his eyes of glass, and India-rubber skin, must appear to the lesser inhabitants of the ocean’s realms, there are “Tritons amongst the minnows,” who fear him not, and would think little of making a meal of him, in spite of his crystalline eyes and indigestible equipment. The records of the voyage of H.M.S. Fawn serve to show that the human “armour-clad,” when submarine in his occupations, is by no means “Monarch of all he surveys.” “The gunner of the Fawn, being a very expert diver, was employed to recover the treasure from the Peninsular and Oriental Company’s ship Ava, wrecked a few years ago on the coast of Ceylon. Having, in a gutta-percha dress, made his way into the saloon, he was busily searching for the bullion, when, to his horror, he saw a huge ground shark come sailing in at the door. With great presence of mind he lay motionless on the locker, and watched it silently and quietly cruising about. One can well imagine his feelings when he saw its cold green eyes fixed upon him, and felt it pushing against the leaden soles of his boots, and rubbing against his dress, the slightest puncture in which would have been certain destruction. About ten minutes of suspense were thus passed, which must have seemed an age, during which the monster came back twice or thrice to have another look at him. Mr. Pound’s courage and coolness were at length rewarded by seeing him steering his way back as he came. Afterwards, Mr. Pound always armed himself with a dagger when he went down to the wreck, from which he recovered altogether 22,000l., having spent some 850 hours under water. He had also some narrow escapes at times from the opening and shutting of the iron plates of the ship as they worked with the roll of the sea. The air-pipe was twice severed from his helmet, but fortunately, slackening it warned the people above to lose no time in rescuing him from his perilous position.”

One is almost tempted to envy the cunning, miserly old crabs, who have it all their own way down amongst the branching coralines and vase-shaped sponges, and crawl to their very hearts’ content over the piles of sunken treasures scattered there. Treasures are there, too, not of man’s garnering, growing like rich sea-flowers beneath the waves. The sea feathers, or plume corals, are examples of these, and are found sprouting, like ocean fern-leaves, from the rock cave’s ledges, far down in the deep still water between the reefs; and we shall see how a love for the beauty of Nature’s handiwork not only led to the crabs being deprived of their hoard, but, favoured by good fortune, proved a guide to wealth, station, and ultimately, nobility. Thus goes the story, which, unlike many of a somewhat similar kind, has the priceless advantage of being literally true. In the year 1650, one Phipps, a blacksmith, of Pemaquid, in New England, was blessed with a son, who was christened William, and who in very early life manifested much ingenuity and a passion for ship-building. Very shortly after the term of his apprenticeship to a shipwright had expired, he built a vessel for himself, which he navigated in person; and hearing it reported that a Spanish ship, freighted with bullion, had sunk in the neighbourhood of the Bahamas, he at once betook himself to the scene of the disaster, and made the most determined but fruitless efforts to recover the lost gold. Treasure-seeking now appears to have become a fixed occupation with Captain Phipps. In the year 1683 we find him employed by the English Government to discover another lost ship (also Spanish), of immense value. This he failed in accomplishing, but became convinced that perseverance in the search would be ultimately crowned with success. For five years he was unsuccessful in his urgent applications for funds to renew his investigations, when the Duke of Albemarle, the then Governor of Jamaica, not only fully credited the assurances of Captain Phipps, but, better still, furnished him with ample means and fitting apparatus for his new expedition. How he reached the scene of his labours--how every lagune and gulf between the reefs was searched in vain, until hope well-nigh vanished--we need not dwell on here. No wreck could be discovered, and he had almost determined to abandon the undertaking in despair, when, after a day of more than ordinary fatigue and anxious exploration amongst the coral rocks, his boat’s crew were rowing him slowly and dejectedly back to his ship, one of the sailors directed his attention to a beautiful sea feather, growing from the ledges of a sunken rock. “Alas!” said poor Phipps, “there is a sea treasure indeed. I wish I could get it.”

One of the good-humoured black divers who accompanied him, anxious to oblige his commander, shot rapidly down to the coveted specimen, and just as rapidly returned with it, exclaiming--“Feather safe, fine feather, but plenty big cannon down where feather live.” This report, as may be readily imagined, made the sinking heart of the poor captain leap again. Blackey was despatched to the regions below to take another look at matters, and after a short absence came back with the glorious news that there were “plenty big boxes too, and lots of this,”--exhibiting his dusky paws filled with silver. Now the captain was in his true element at last; and there lay the work he loved so well, ready cut out for him; and he proved quite equal to the occasion, for from that deep gulf, far down among the corals and the Crabs, in whose custody it had quietly remained for more than half a century, he brought to light thirty-two tons of silver bullion, besides large quantities of gold, pearls, and other valuables. We find that Phipps was knighted by James II. He was appointed Sheriff of New England, and took command of a large expeditionary force against the French. We afterwards find him in command of a fleet fitted out to oppose the same enemy in Canada, and subsequently taking part in the Border warfare of the period, as a leader of some celebrity; and at this point of his career we bid adieu to Sir James Phipps and the happy-chance discovery which led him on to greatness.

There is yet another little crustacean, rather a delver than a diver, well known to every sea-side visitor. This is the Sea Flea, or Sand Hopper, as it is popularly called, and because of its saltitary powers, young ladies in dainty boots keep at a most respectful distance from the scene of its performances, and rival the hopper himself in the agility with which they bound off on unwittingly invading the haunts of that nimble little gentleman. Lift but a tuft of half-dried weed, fragment of stranded wreck, stone, or tenantless shell, and up leap a whole army of Hoppers, like as many peas on a drum-head. They appear more vegetarian in their tastes than most other of their crustacean family connexions, subsisting mainly on the various weeds found scattered among the rocks. Fish and many other marine creatures feed voraciously on them, and the Cornish chough, in his black satin coat and scarlet stockings, picks them with marvellous dexterity with his coral-coloured, forceps-like beak, from amongst the tangled web of sea-cords and ocean-ribbons in which they delight to harbour. The poor, frost-beset starling, too, when the white snow lies thick on the pastures, and the pitiless north-east wind whistles down the vale, finds amongst the oar-weed heaps cast up at high-tide level, Sand Hoppers enough to prolong his wee-bird life till milder winds and better times smile, on the land and him. So even the most pigmy atoms of creation perform their allotted parts in the great plan which an all-wise Providence has so wisely laid down for created beings, and we become lost in wonder, at the marvellous and inscrutable laws brought to bear in its furtherance. The saltness of the sea, the metal iodine residing in its countless myriads of weeds, the migrations of the mighty hosts of fish, the ebbing and flowing of the tide, the labours of the coral insect, the strange sponge-growths, trade winds, and warm currents setting in from one region to another, all evince the operation of laws, far too vast for man, with all his boasted power, to penetrate or understand. As there are “sermons in stones, voices in running brooks, and good in everything,” so is there beauty and evidence of Divine foresight to be found under every fragment of drift-wood, cast between the rocks; each upturned stone discloses some wonder of creation, and as the mighty billows thunder on the strand and carry in their backward rush the beds of ever-wearing shingle, fretting and grinding with them, frail humanity can but look from nature, up to nature’s God, and feel its own utter insignificance.

The ocean’s broad expanse, when lulled in calm tranquillity, is no less a subject for pleasant and profound meditation, and he who seeks a field for peaceful reflection may find it by drifting away on the unruffled bosom of the deep; and as the bark bears him slowly onward, Montgomery’s lines will not fail to strike his memory:--

“Sky, sun, and sea, were all the universe, The sky, one blue interminable arch Without a breeze, or wing, or cloud; the sun Sole in the firmament, but in the deep Redoubled; where the circle of the sea, Invisible with calmness, seems to lie Within the hollow of a lower heaven.”

We could willingly thus gossip on, and prolong the journey on which our companion the reader has so far accompanied us, but all rambles amongst the rocks, or elsewhere, must have an end; our journey in search of crustacean lore can be no exception to this stern law, and we bid our fellow-pilgrim a cordial adieu until we meet again to ramble forth, staff in hand, cockle-shell in hat, and wallet on shoulder, to gather fresh stores of some other lore, so lavishly scattered along the pleasant paths where Nature, in all her goodness and beauty, beckons us to follow.

INDEX.

Anemone, the, 44.

Anthozoa, the living blossoms of the ocean, 31.

Apicius, his love of crabs, 3; his journey to Africa in search of crayfish, 103.

Apus productus, his curious habits, 88.