Nature's Teachings. John George Wood
clinging—say the glass of the aquarium—until it has reached the air. It then very slowly, and bit by bit, detaches the upper part of the base from the glass, allowing itself to hang with its tentacles downward. These, by the way, are almost wholly withdrawn when the animal is engaged in this business. By degrees the whole of the base is detached from the glass except a very tiny portion of the edge. The base is next contracted in the middle into the form of a shallow cup, and, when this is done, the last hold of the glass is released, and the animal floats away, supported by its hollowed base.
Entomologists are familiar with the following facts, and were this work addressed to them alone, a simple mention of the insect would be sufficient. But as this work is intended for the general public, it will be necessary to give a description, though a brief one, of the wonderful manner in which an insect, which we are apt to think is only too common, plays the part of a boat at its entrance to life and just before its departure from this world, not to mention its intermediate state, to which reference will be made under another heading.
The insect in question is the common Gnat (Culex pipiens), which makes such ravages upon those who are afflicted, like myself, with delicate skins, and can have a limb rendered useless for days by a single gnat-bite.
In this insect, the beginning and the end of life are so closely interwoven, that it is not easy to determine which has the prior claim to description, but we will begin with the egg.
With very few exceptions, such as the Earwig, which watches over its eggs and young like a hen over her nest and chickens, the insects merely deposit their eggs upon or close to the food of the future young, and leave them to their fate. The eggs of the Gnat, however, require different treatment. The young larvæ, when hatched, immediately pass into the water in which they have to live, and yet the eggs are so constituted that they need the warmth of the sun in order to hatch them. The machinery by which both these objects are attained is singularly beautiful.
The shape of the egg very much resembles that of a common ninepin, and the structure is such that it must be kept upright, so that the top shall be exposed to the air and sun, and the bottom be immersed in the water. It would be almost impossible that these conditions should be attained if the eggs were either dropped separately into the water or fixed to aquatic plants, as is the case with many creatures whose eggs are hatched solely in or on the water.
As is the case with many insects, each egg when laid is enveloped with a slight coating of a glutinous character, so that they adhere together. And, in the case of the Gnat, this material is insoluble in water, and hardens almost immediately after the egg is deposited. Taking advantage of these peculiarities, the female Gnat places herself on the edge of a floating leaf or similar object, so that her long and slender hind-legs rest on the water. In some mysterious way, the eggs, as they are successively produced, are passed along the hind-legs, and are arranged side by side in such a manner that they are formed into the figure of a boat, being fixed to each other by the glutinous substance which has already been mentioned.
It is a very remarkable fact, which assists in strengthening the theory on which this book is written, that the lines of the best modern life-boats are almost identical with those of the Gnat-boat, and that both possess the power of righting themselves if capsized. In all trials of a new life-boat, one of the most important is that which tests her capability of self-righting; and any one who has witnessed such experiments, and has tried to upset a Gnat-boat, cannot but be struck with the singular similitude between the boat made by the hand of man and that constructed by the legs of an insect, without even the aid of eyes.
Push the Gnat-boat under water, and it shoots to the surface like a cork, righting itself as it rises. Pour water on it, and exactly the same result occurs, so that nothing can prevent it from floating. Then, when the warm air has done its work in hatching the enclosed young, a little trap-door opens at the bottom of the egg, lets the young larvæ into the water, and away they swim.
Now we come to another phase of existence in which the Gnat forms a boat. Every one knows the little active Gnat larvæ, with their large heads and slender bodies, much like tadpoles in miniature. When they have reached their full growth, and assume the pupal form, their shape is much changed. The fore part of the body is still more enlarged, as it has to contain the wings and legs, which have so great a proportion to the body of the perfect Gnat. And, instead of floating with its head downwards, and breathing through its tail as it did when a larva, it now floats with the head uppermost, and breathes through two little tubes.
Even in its former state the creature had something almost grotesque in its aspect, the head, when magnified, looking almost as like a human face as does that of a skate. But in its pupal state it looks as if it had put on a large comical mask much too large for it, very much like those paper masks which are enclosed in crackers, and have to be worn by those who draw them.
In process of time the pupa changes to a perfect Gnat within this shelly case, able to move, but unable to eat. The body shrinks in size, and the wings and legs are formed, both being pressed closely to the body. When the Gnat is fully developed, the pupal skin splits along the back, and opens out into a curiously boat-like shape, the front, which contains the heavier part of the insect, being much the largest, and consequently being able to bear the greatest weight.
By degrees, the Gnat draws itself out of the split pupal skin, resting its legs on it as fast as they are released. It then shakes out its wings to dry, and finally takes to the air.
It is a really wonderful fact that the insect which, for three stages in life—namely, an egg, larva, and pupa—lived in the water, should in the fourth not only be incapable of aquatic life, but should employ its old skin to protect it from that very element in which it was living only a minute or two before.
Should the reader wish to examine for himself either the egg or skin boat of the Gnat, he can easily procure them by searching any quiet pond, or even an uncovered water-butt. They are, of course, very small, averaging about the tenth of an inch in length, and are nearly always to be found close to the side either of pond or tub, being drawn there by the power of attraction.
I may here mention that there are other dipterous insects belonging to the genus Stratiomys, which undergo their metamorphosis in a very similar fashion. In these insects, the larva breathes through the tail, and when it attains its pupal condition, the actual insect is very much smaller than the pupal skin, only occupying the anterior and enlarged part. Indeed, the difference of size is so great, that several entomologists believed the future Stratiomys to be but a parasite on the original larva. The beautiful Chameleon-fly (Stratiomys chamæleon) is a familiar example of these insects.
CHAPTER II.
THE OAR, THE PADDLE, AND THE SCREW
Propulsion by the Oar.—Parallels in the Insect World.—The “Water-boatman.”—Its Boat-like Shape.—The Oar-like Legs.—Exact mechanical Analogy between the Legs of the Insect and the Oars of the human Rower.—“Feathering” Oars in Nature and Art.—The Water-boatman and the Water-beetles.—The Feet of the Swan, Goose, and other aquatic Birds.—The Cydippe, or Beroë.—The Self-feathering Paddle-wheel.—Indirect Force.—The Wedge, Screw, and Inclined Plane.—“Sculling” a Boat.—The “Tanka” Girls of China.—Mechanical Principle of the Screw, and its Adaptation to Vessels.—Gradual Development of the Nautical Screw.—Mechanical Principle of the Tail of the Fish, the Otter, and the sinuous Body of the Eel and Lampern.—The Coracle and the Whirlwig-beetle.
THE Boat naturally reminds us of the Boatman. In the two gnat-boats which have been described there is no propelling power used or needed, the little vessel floating about at random, and its only object being to keep afloat. But there are many cases where the propelling power is absolutely essential, and where its absence would mean death, as much as it would to a ship which was becalmed in mid ocean without any means of progress or escape. There are, for example, hundreds of creatures, belonging to every order of animals, which are absolutely dependent for their very existence on their power of propulsion, and I believe that there is not a single mode of aquatic progression employed by man which has not been previously carried out in the animal world. There are so many examples of this fact that I am obliged to select a very few typical instances in proof of the assertion.
Taking the