Another writer, having no opportunity of viewing the living animal, does not consider it difficult to imagine the Pholas 'licking a hole' with its foot, from the fact that he (Mr. Sowerby) managed to make 'a sensible impression' upon a piece of kitchen hearthstone. 'I had,' he says, 'not patience to carry the experiment any further, but as far as it went, it left no doubt on my mind that, with the foot alone, and without any silicious particles, without a chemical solvent, and without using the rasping power of its shell, our little animal could easily execute his self-pronounced sentence of solitary confinement for life.'
Such an inconclusive statement as this would, I feel certain, never have been penned, had its author been so fortunate as to have had opportunity of watching a Pholas at work.
But, as Professor Owen truly observes, 'Direct observation of the boring bivalves in the act of perforation has been rarely enjoyed, and the instruments have consequently been guessed at, or judged of from the structure of the animal.' Such, evidently, is the case with Mr. Sowerby, and several other writers who treat on this subject.
Here we may call attention to the folly of naturalists endeavouring to tag a pet theory upon all the boring acephala, to the exclusion of every other. Such a system is defended upon the principle that, 'it is much more philosophical to allow that animals, so nearly allied as these in question, are more likely to effect a similar purpose by the same means, than that several should be adopted. Surely this is more consistent with the unity of the laws of nature, and that beautiful simplicity which is everywhere prevalent in her works.'
How much more shrewd and philosophical are the opinions of such a man as Professor Owen, who, when speaking of the mechanical action of the valves of P. crispata, says, 'To deny this use of the Pholas shell, because the shell of some other rock-boring bivalves is smooth, is another sign of a narrow mind.' Again, this learned author forcibly remarks, in direct opposition to the writer previously quoted, 'The diversity of the organization of the boring molluscs plainly speaks against any one single and uniform, boring agent at all!'
The more I study this subject, the more does the truth of the last-mentioned statement become apparent to my mind.
An examination of engravings of the shells, or even of the Pholas itself, when lying loose in the tank, or quietly seated in the rock, extending and retracting its siphons, fails to give one the slightest idea of its extraordinary appearance when enlarging its dwelling. At such times it seems to be a totally different animal, and to have suddenly acquired a most marvellous degree of power, energy, and perseverance, forming a striking contrast to its usual quiet, passive habits.
In the first place, as I have elsewhere written, it retracts its tube to, and even under, the level of its shell, just as a man, about to urge onwards some heavy mass with his shoulders, would depress his head to increase and concentrate his muscular power. Then follows an expansion of the neck or upper part of the ventral border, from whence the siphons protrude. This movement closes the posterior portions of the valves below the hinge, and brings their serrated points together. The next act on the part of the animal is to place its foot firmly at the base of the hole; when leaning forward, it makes a sweeping movement fully half round the cavity, pressing firmly-upon the umboes, which nature has strengthened for the purpose by two curved teeth fixed on the inside of the valves. At this stage it again reclines on its breast, and tilting up the shell as much as possible, it makes another motion round to its former position, leaning upon its back. By these intricate movements, which the Pholas appears to accomplish by a contraction almost painfully strong, it opens the rasping points of the valves. These execute a very peculiar scooping movement at the base of the cavity, and the animal having got so far, prepares itself for further exertion by a short rest.
The specimen whose movements I have attempted to describe, lived in my possession for a considerable time. It bored so completely through the piece of rock in which it was embedded, that the whole of its foot dropped through the aperture, and remained in this position for months, the animal, in consequence, being unable to change its position even in the slightest degree. Each movement of this specimen, both before and while the hole at the base of the cavity was gradually being enlarged, was watched, and every striking and interesting feature that occurred noted down at the moment. Various queries were put and answered, as far as possible, by direct ocular demonstration of the labours of the animal in the vase before me.