Here, again, it is difficult to see how a mistake in observation can have occurred, and admitting the facts to be true, they go far beyond Mr. Bourne’s theory to account for these phenomena, which, however, has been adopted by Mr. Pocock, as the result of his own experiments. In the first place, it is not here the heat—unless by association of ideas—but the actual sight of the flame that terrifies the scorpion, and death, apparently, is inflicted as the result of that. Again, there can be no doubt as to the self-inflicted stinging, and from the manner of it, as well as its invariability, it seems to have been deliberate. Whether death was the result of it or not, we have the act, and the act, if a voluntary one, must have implied a destructive intention. It hardly seems possible, however, that the light of a candle, outside a tumbler, though held near it, can in so short a time have made the interior so hot as to kill the scorpion, whilst, on the other hand, the poison from the creature’s sting must have pierced its brain, and a few seconds afterwards it was dead.
If, then, we decide to disbelieve in the story of scorpions committing suicide when unable to escape from fire, we must explain away these two accounts, which we can do by supposing the narrators to be either dishonest or stupid. There is no other way that I can see, so if neither of these do, we ought to believe the story. However, there is plenty of evidence which points in the opposite direction, and the advantage of this is that we can take our choice.
Scorpions are interesting animals to keep in captivity, and their habits under these conditions have been carefully studied by Mr. Pocock.[[154]] When supplied with sand they dig pits in it, in which they lie during the greater part of the day. The second and third pairs of legs are used for this purpose, the scorpion raising itself upon the other two pairs, as well as, to a certain extent, upon the claws and the end of the tail. In this position it kicks the sand backwards from under it, and then when the excavation is sufficiently deep, sweeps away the accumulated heap, with its tail, so that the edge of its lurking-place is on a level with the surrounding surface. It can thus, as it lies there, obtain an uninterrupted view, which the better enables it to receive with proper attention any creature of the requisite size and quality that approaches its portals. Such creatures are principally insects, spiders, centipedes, wood-lice, and the like—but here we may remember one little spider that imitates a scorpion, and may therefore approach with impunity, at least if the disparity in size be not too great, for whilst some scorpions are quite small, others attain a length of eight or nine inches, with a bulk more than in proportion to their length.
In captivity, and, no doubt, under nature too, when they happen to come across them, scorpions will eat cockroaches, but a cockroach is not altogether a defenceless creature, and sometimes a large one will give battle, and even with success. The weapons upon which, in these cases, it relies are its powerful hind legs armed, as they are, with spines which project backwards. Backwards accordingly it advances upon the scorpion, and increasing its pace suddenly, when at the requisite distance salutes the astonished enemy with a shower of kicks. So unexpected is this mode of assault that it is sometimes effective, even against so redoubtable an opponent as a scorpion, whilst a tarantula spider has been known to fly, panic-stricken, before or rather behind a large cockroach. But such efforts, however heroic, can have only a transient success, where the conditions are so unequal. Jaws and sting must prevail against soft bodies armed only with spiny legs. “Alla stoccata carries it away.” Generally the poor cockroach is seized—sometimes, in the first instance, by the antennæ—as it comes inadvertently too near to the scorpion, or even trespasses upon its back. At once the tail is bent above it, and the fatal sting enters its body. Paralysis ensues, and would no doubt be quickly followed by death, even were the scorpion, thereupon, to retire. As it is, however, it is difficult to say whether the victim dies more of the sting or of being eaten.
From the latter process, at any rate, there is no recovery, as may be seen in the case of smaller cockroaches, upon whom the scorpion, from motives of economy, does not always waste its poison. It merely, when thus provident, holds the contemptible creature in its claws, whilst bringing to bear upon it its two pairs of chelæ or real jaws, which act upon the same principle as those of Galeodes vorax, if the reader remember. It feeds in a leisurely manner, the impatience of the cockroach not affecting it in the least. Two hours for a good-sized one—a pièce de résistance—is not considered too long by the scorpion.
Scorpions, it appears, use their stings in a very careful, deliberate manner. It is not a mere random thrust with them, lunged in anywhere, just as the body of an insect happens to come. On the contrary, they feel about this body, most anxiously, with their tail, till they have found a soft spot in it, and then introduce their sting in a careful manner. In fact, they sting an insect in much the way that Isaak Walton impaled a frog upon the hook—“tenderly as if they loved him”—and for the same class of reason, viz. to make a workmanlike job of it, and not break their stings against the harder parts of its body, for the point of this weapon is delicate and might get chipped against the hard shards of a beetle, or other such resisting surface.
For the same prudent reason the tail is carried aloft, over the scorpion’s back, when it walks, so that the whole organ, but especially the point of it, which is curled round again underneath, is preserved from contact with the outer world. The sting, or rather the sides of the poison vesicle just above it, are clothed with hairs, which are, no doubt, delicately tactile, and the same may be said of the tail and various other parts of the body. Touch, indeed, is the principal sense which conveys impressions to the soul of the scorpion. Sight is defective, and hearing does not seem to exist.
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH