I was for some time puzzled to find any aperture in connection with the club-like foot of the Pholas (P. crispata), although several of the bivalves were sacrificed to the cause of science. But what the microscope and scalpel in this instance failed to unfold, attentive watching of the animal in the aquarium made palpably apparent, in the following manner.
I had on one occasion captured about a dozen Pholades, some of which were embedded in the solid rock, others detached.
The first mentioned, I knew would be quite safe among the blennies and crabs, from the untempting and unedible nature of their siphonal tubes. Very different was the case with the defenceless, disentombed specimens. These were intended as food for their finny companions, who happened to be particularly fond of a change of diet. My 'pack' had subsisted for some time on Mussels, and on such excellent food, had become impudent, corpulent, and dainty. But overgorged epicures though they were, I knew that although everything else failed, a 'real live' Pholas placed before them would serve to speedily whet their appetites.
A splendid specimen of the siphoniferous bivalve was dropped into the tank, the base of which it had no sooner reached, than the fishes, with eager eyes and watering mouths, came hovering like a flock of vultures round the welcome meal thus unexpectedly placed before them.
One rascal, who seemed to be cock of the walk, came forward and made the first grip at the delicate fleshy foot, that in appearance was as white as a newly fallen snowflake. The pedal organ was, of course, instantly and forcibly withdrawn, so much so, indeed, as to be almost hidden from view, except at its extreme base. In this position it remained for several seconds. When the finny gourmand again boldly advanced to take a second mouthful, to my intense surprise he was, apparently, blown to a distance of several inches. I could scarcely credit the evidence of my senses. Another and another of the fishes were in their turn served in like manner as their leader. In a short time, however, the poor mollusc failed to repulse his enemies, and finally fell a passive victim to their gluttonous propensities.
Now comes the important question, 'How is the boring operation performed?' How can this simple animal, with its brittle shell, and soft fleshy body, manage to perforate the sandstone, or other hard substances, in which it lives?
For hundreds of years this query has been asked, and various are the replies which from time to time have been given. Singular to state, although specimens of the Pholas, and its allies the Saxicavæ, are to be procured in abundance in many parts of the kingdom, the subject is not even yet positively settled.
There have been many theories advanced, some the result of fancy or guess-work; others, of practical study. All these have their supporters, but none have, by common consent, been adopted by physiologists as the true one.
Having for several years made this subject a study of personal observation, I believe I may venture to state, that I have succeeded in casting a feeble ray of light upon it; and, although the result of my labours may not be deemed conclusive, I may at least claim some credit for my endeavours to clear up a most difficult, though deeply interesting point in natural history.