Part 4

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.