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- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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“I say, Jack!” cried Peterkin, waving his hand; “come here, like a good fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our assistance, for he’s out o’ sight beyond me already!”
“What’s the matter?” inquired Jack, coming up, while he endeavoured to scrub his long hair dry with a towel of cocoa-nut cloth.
I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who, I was happy to find, quite agreed with me. “The best plan,” he said, “will be to put very few animals at first into your tank, and add more as you find it will bear them. And look here,” he added, pointing to the sides of the tank, which, for the space of two inches above the water-level, were encrusted with salt, “you must carry your philosophy a little further, Ralph. That water has evaporated so much that it is too salt for anything to live in. You will require to add fresh water now and then, in order to keep it at the same degree of saltness as the sea.”
“Very true, Jack; that never struck me before,” said I.
“And, now I think of it,” continued Jack, “it seems to me that the surest way of arranging your tank so as to get it to keep pure and in good condition will be to imitate the ocean in it; in fact, make it a miniature Pacific. I don’t see how you can hope to succeed unless you do that.”
“Most true,” said I, pondering what my companion said. “But I fear that that will be very difficult.”
“Not at all,” cried Jack, rolling his towel up into a ball and throwing it into the face of Peterkin, who had been grinning and winking at him during the last five minutes—“not at all. Look here. There is water of a certain saltness in the sea; well, fill your tank with sea-water, and keep it at that saltness by marking the height at which the water stands on the sides. When it evaporates a little, pour in fresh water from the brook till it comes up to the mark, and then it will be right, for the salt does not evaporate with the water. Then there’s lots of seaweed in the sea; well, go and get one or two bits of seaweed and put them into your tank. Of course the weed must be alive, and growing to little stones; or you can chip a bit off the rocks with the weed sticking to it. Then, if you like, you can throw a little sand and gravel into your tank, and the thing’s complete.”
“Nay, not quite,” said Peterkin, who had been gravely attentive to this off-hand advice—“not quite. You must first make three little men to dive in it before it can be said to be perfect; and that would be rather difficult, I fear, for two of them would require to be philosophers. But hallo! what’s this?—I say, Ralph, look here! There’s one o’ your crabs up to something uncommon. It’s performing the most remarkable operation for a crab I ever saw—taking off its coat, I do believe, before going to bed!”
We hastily stooped over the tank, and certainly were not a little amused at the conduct of one of the crabs which still survived its companions. It was one of the common small crabs, like to those that are found running about everywhere on the coast of England. While we gazed at it we observed its back to split away from the lower part of its body, and out of the gap thus formed came a soft lump which moved and writhed unceasingly. This lump continued to increase in size until it appeared like a bunch of crab’s legs; and, indeed, such it proved in a very few minutes to be, for the points of the toes were at length extricated from the hole in its back, the legs spread out, the body followed, and the crab walked away quite entire, even to the points of its nipper-claws, leaving a perfectly entire shell behind it, so that, when we looked, it seemed as though there were two complete crabs instead of one.
“Well,” exclaimed Peterkin, drawing a long breath, “I’ve heard of a man jumping out of his skin and sitting down in his skeleton in order to cool himself, but I never expected to see a crab do it!”
We were, in truth, much amazed at this spectacle, and the more so when we observed that the new crab was larger than the crab that it came out of. It was also quite soft, but by next morning its skin had hardened into a good shell. We came thus to know that crabs grow in this way, and not by the growing of their shells, as we had always thought before we saw this wonderful operation.
Now I considered well the advice which Jack had given me about preparing my tank, and the more I thought of it the more I came to regard it as very sound and worthy of being acted on. So I forthwith put his plan in execution, and found it to answer excellently well—indeed, much beyond my expectation; for I found that after a little experience had taught me the proper proportion of seaweed and animals to put into a certain amount of water, the tank needed no further attendance. And, moreover, I did not require ever afterwards to renew or change the sea-water, but only to add a very little fresh water from the brook, now and then, as the other evaporated. I therefore concluded that if I had been suddenly conveyed, along with my tank, into some region where there was no salt sea at all, my little sea and my sea-fish would have continued to thrive and to prosper notwithstanding. This made me greatly to desire that those people in the world who live far inland might know of my wonderful tank, and by having materials like to those of which it was made conveyed to them, thus be enabled to watch the habits of those most mysterious animals that reside in the sea, and examine with their own eyes the wonders of the great deep.
For many days after this, while Peterkin and Jack were busily employed in building a little boat out of the curious natural planks of the chestnut-tree, I spent much of my time in examining with the burning-glass the marvellous operations that were constantly going on in my tank. Here I saw those anemones which cling, like little red, yellow, and green blobs of jelly, to the rocks, put forth, as it were, a multitude of arms and wait till little fish or other small animalcules unwarily touched them, when they would instantly seize them, fold arm after arm round their victims, and so engulf them in their stomachs. Here I saw the ceaseless working of those little coral insects whose efforts have encrusted the islands of the Pacific with vast rocks, and surrounded them with enormous reefs; and I observed that many of these insects, though extremely minute, were very beautiful, coming out of their holes in a circle of fine threads, and having the form of a shuttlecock. Here I saw curious little barnacles opening a hole in their backs and constantly putting out a thin, feathery hand, with which, I doubt not, they dragged their food into their mouths. Here, also, I saw those crabs which have shells only on the front of their bodies, but no shell whatever on their remarkably tender tails, so that, in order to find a protection to them, they thrust them into the empty shells of whelks, or some such fish, and when they grow too big for one, change into another. But, most curious of all, I saw an animal which had the wonderful power, when it became ill, of casting its stomach and its teeth away from it, and getting an entirely new set in the course of a few months! All this I saw, and a great deal more, by means of my tank and my burning-glass; but I refrain from setting down more particulars here, as I have still much to tell of the adventures that befell us while we remained on this island.
“Come, Jack,” cried Peterkin one morning about three weeks after our return from our long excursion, “let’s be jolly to-day, and do something vigorous. I’m quite tired of hammering and bammering, hewing and screwing, cutting and butting at that little boat of ours, that seems as hard to build as Noah’s ark. Let us go on an excursion to the mountain-top, or have a hunt after the wild ducks, or make a dash at the pigs. I’m quite flat—flat as bad ginger-beer—flat as a pancake; in fact, I want something to rouse me—to toss me up, as it were. Eh! what do you say to it?”
“Well,” answered Jack, throwing down the axe with which he was just about to proceed towards the boat, “if that’s what you want, I would recommend you to make an excursion to the waterspouts. The last one we had to do with tossed you up a considerable height; perhaps the next will send you higher—who knows?—if you’re at all reasonable or moderate in your expectations!”
“Jack, my dear boy,” said Peterkin gravely, “you are really becoming too fond of jesting. It’s a thing I don’t at all approve of; and if you don’t give it up, I fear that, for our mutual good, we shall have to part.”
“Well, then, Peterkin,” replied Jack with a smile, “what would you have?”
“Have?” said Peterkin. “I would have nothing. I didn’t say I wanted to have; I said that I wanted to do.”
“By the bye,” said I, interrupting their conversation, “I am reminded by this that we have not yet discovered the nature of yon curious appearance that we saw near the waterspouts on our journey round the island. Perhaps it would be well to go for that purpose.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Peterkin, “I know the nature of it well enough.”
“What was it?” said I.
“It was of a mysterious nature, to be sure!” said he with a wave of his hand, while he rose from the log on which he had been sitting and buckled on his belt, into which he thrust his enormous club.
“Well, then, let us away to the waterspouts,” cried Jack, going up to the bower for his bow and arrows.—“And bring your spear, Peterkin; it may be useful.”
We now, having made up our minds to examine into this matter, sallied forth eagerly in the direction of the waterspout rocks, which, as I have before mentioned, were not far from our present place of abode. On arriving there we hastened down to the edge of the rocks and gazed over into the sea, where we observed the pale-green object still distinctly visible, moving its tail slowly to and fro in the water.
“Most remarkable!” said Jack.
“Exceedingly curious!” said I.
“Beats everything!” said Peterkin.—“Now, Jack,” he added, “you made such a poor figure in your last attempt to stick that object that I would advise you to let me try it. If it has got a heart at all, I’ll engage to send my spear right through the core of it; if it hasn’t got a heart, I’ll send it through the spot where its heart ought to be.”
“Fire away, then, my boy,” replied Jack with a laugh.
Peterkin immediately took the spear, poised it for a second or two above his head, then darted it like an arrow into the sea. Down it went straight into the
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