The star-fish’s mouth is on its lower side, and almost directly abuts on its stomach. It is a voracious feeder, and will even attack molluscs. Formerly it was believed that the animal would open an oyster with one of its rays, or legs, but this was unlikely, as the oyster might be likely enough to have the best of it in such a case by shutting his shells on the intruder. It is now pretty well understood that it injects an acrid poison into the oyster’s shell, which obliges it to open.
STAR-FISH.
The “Urchins” seem to owe their name to Aristotle, and their spiny covering and armature have in all ages attracted the attention of naturalists. Some of them have 3,000 or 4,000 prickles, and their organisation is really wonderful. They are enclosed in a globular hollow box, which grows with their growth. Gosse explains how. The box can never be cast off, and it is obvious that the deposits made from inside would only narrow the space, which really requires to be enlarged. “The growing animal feels its tissues swelling day by day, by the assimilation of food. Its cry is ‘Give me space! a larger house, or I die!’ How is this problem solved? Ah! there is no difficulty. The inexhaustible wisdom of the Creator has a beautiful contrivance for the emergency. The box is not made in one piece, nor in ten, nor a hundred. Six hundred distinct pieces go to make up the hollow case, all accurately fitted together, so that the perfect symmetry of outline remains unbroken; and yet, thin as their substance is, they retain their relative positions with unchanging exactness, and the slight brittle box retains all requisite strength and firmness, for each of these pieces is enveloped by a layer of living flesh; a vascular tissue passes up between the joints, where one meets another, and spreads itself over the whole exterior surface.” Their spines are instruments of defence and of locomotion; each has several muscles to work it.
The poet-scientist, Michelet, has beautifully painted the animal’s nature, and makes it describe itself as follows. “I am born,” says the unobtrusive Echinoderm, “without ambition; I ask for none of the brilliant gifts possessed by those gentlemen the molluscs. I would neither make mother-of-pearl nor pearls; I have no wish for brilliant colours, a luxury which would point me out; still less do I desire the grace of your giddy medusas, the waving charm of whose flaming locks attracts observation and exposes one to shipwreck. Oh, mother! I wish for one thing only, to be—to be without these exterior and compromising appendages; to be thickset, strong, and round, for that is the shape in which I should be the least exposed; in short, to be a centralised being. I have very little instinct for travel. To roll sometimes from the surface to the bottom of the sea is enough of travel for me. Glued firmly to my rock, I could there solve the problem, the solution of which your favourite, man, seeks for in vain—that of safety. To strictly exclude enemies and admit all friends, especially water, air, and light, would, I know, cost me some labour and constant effort. Covered with movable spines, enemies will avoid me. Now, bristling like a bear, they call me an urchin.”[34]
URCHINS IN A ROCK.
The term “sea-cucumber” accurately describes the shape of the Holothuria, which is in general terms a worm-like cylinder, varying as much as from an inch or two to [pg 127]thirty, and, in exceptional cases, forty inches in length. The skin of the animal is usually thick and leathery; it is crowned by a mouth with a fringe of tentacula, which expand like a flower when it is unmolested. They particularly avoid the glare of light. One large eatable species is common in the Mediterranean, and is used for food in Naples and elsewhere. But it is in the Indian, Malayan, and Chinese seas that the Holothuria edulis, known there as the trepang, is an important adjunct to the food of the natives. Thousands of junks are employed in the trepang fisheries. The Malay fisherman will harpoon them with a long bamboo terminating in a sharp hook at a distance of thirty yards. In four or five fathoms of water native divers are employed, who seize them in their hands, and will bring up several at a time. They are then boiled, and flattened with stones; after which process they are spread out on bamboo mats to dry, first in the sun and afterwards by smoking. They are then put in sacks and shipped principally to Chinese ports, where they are considered a luxury.
The great French navigator, Dumont d’Urville, witnessed the processes employed while in Raffles Bay. An hour after the arrival of four prows all the men were at work ashore cooking them in boilers placed over roughly-constructed stone furnaces, after which they were dried on hurdled roofs. Captain d’Urville went on board one of the Malay vessels, where he was received with cordiality by the padrone, or captain. “He,” says that navigator, “showed us over his little ship. The keel appeared to us sufficiently solid; even the lines did not want elegance; but great disorder seemed to reign in the stowage department. From a kind of bridge, formed by hurdles of bamboos and junk, we saw the cabin, which looked like a poultry house: bags of rice, packets and boxes were huddled together. Below was the store of water, of cured trepang, and the sailors’ berths. Each boat was furnished with two rudders, one at each end, which lifted itself when the boat touched the bottom. The craft was furnished with two masts, without shrouds, which could be lowered on to the bridge at will by means of a hinge; they carry the ordinary sail; the anchors are of wood, for iron is rarely used by the Malays; their cables are made of rattan fibre; the crew of each bark consists of about thirty-seven, each shore boat having a crew of six men. At the moment of our visit they were all occupied in fishing operations, some of them being anchored very near to us. Seven or eight of their number, nearly naked, were diving for trepang; the padrone alone was unoccupied. An ardent sun darted its rays upon their heads without appearing to incommode them, an exposure which no European could hold up under. It was near mid-day, and the moment, as our Malay captain assured us, most favourable for the fishing. In fact, we saw that each diver returned to the surface with at least one animal, and sometimes two, in his hands. It appears that the higher the sun is above the horizon, the more easily is the creature distinguished at the bottom. The divers were so rapid in their movements that they scarcely touched the boat, into which they threw the animals before they dived again. When the boat was filled with them, it proceeded to the shore, and its place was supplied by an empty one.” The Holothuria taken there were five to six inches long. D’Urville tasted it when prepared, and says that it resembled lobster. His men, however, took more kindly to it than did he.
