There is a wonderful worm, common on our southern coasts, and bearing, as far as I know, no popular name. It is known to the scientific world as Nemertes Borlasii. It possesses the power of extension and contraction more than any known creature, and uses those powers for the purpose of capturing prey. The fishermen say that this worm can extend itself to a length of ninety feet, and as Mr. Davis found one to measure twenty-two feet, after being immersed in spirits of wine, it is likely that their account may be true, especially as the spirit greatly contracted the animal in point of length.
A most vivid description of this worm is given by C. Kingsley, in his “Glaucus,” and was written before he knew its name.
“Whether we were intruding or not, in turning this stone, we must pay a fine for having done so; for there lies an animal as foul and monstrous to the eye as ‘hydra, gorgon, or chimæra dire,’ and yet so wondrously fitted to its work that we must needs endure for our own instruction to handle and to look at it. Its name I know not (though it lurks here under every stone), and should be glad to know. It seems some very ‘low’ Ascarid or Planarian worm.
“You see it? That black, shiny, knotted lump among the gravel, small enough to be taken up in a dessert spoon. Look now, as it is raised and its coils drawn out. Three feet, six, nine at least; with a capability of seemingly endless expansion; a slimy tape of living caoutchouc, some eighth of an inch in diameter, a dark chocolate black, with paler longitudinal lines.
“Is it alive? It hangs helpless and motionless, a mere velvet string, across the hand. Ask the neighbouring Annelids and the fry of the rock-fishes, or put it into a vase at home, and see. It lies motionless, trailing itself among the gravel; you cannot tell where it begins or ends; it may be a dead strip of seaweed, Himanthalia lorea, perhaps, or Chorda filum, or even a tarred string.
“So thinks the little fish who plays over and over it, till he touches at last what is too surely a head. In an instant a bell-shaped sucker mouth has fastened to his side. In another instant, from one lip, a concave double proboscis, just like a tapir’s (another instance of the repetition of forms), has clasped him like a finger; and now begins the struggle: but in vain. He is being ‘played’ with such a fishing-line as the skill of a Wilson or a Stoddart never could invent; a living line, with elasticity beyond that of the most delicate fly-rod, which follows every lunge, shortening and lengthening, slipping and twining round every piece of gravel and stem of seaweed, with a tiring drag such as no Highland wrist or step could ever bring to bear on salmon or on trout.
“The victim is tired now; and slowly, and yet dexterously, his blind assailant is feeling and shifting along his side, till he reaches one end of him; and then the black lips expand, and slowly and surely the curved finger begins packing him end foremost down into the gullet, where he sinks, inch by inch, till the swelling which marks his place is lost among the coils, and he is probably macerated to a pulp long before he has reached the opposite extremity of his cave of doom.
“Once safe down, the black murderer slowly contracts again into a knotted heap, and lies, like a boa with a stag inside him, motionless and blest.”
The accuracy as well as the pictorial effect of this description cannot be surpassed. The “velvety” feel of the creature is most wonderful, as it slips and slides over and among the fingers, and makes the task of gathering it together appear quite hopeless.