sometimes two feet in length, to be held firmly to the rock. I may here mention that they have been occasionally woven into gloves, and other articles of apparel, to which their natural soft grey-brown hue gives a very pleasing appearance.
A still more familiar instance of a natural marine cable is given by the common Mussel, which can be found in thousands on almost every solid substance which affords it a hold. Even copper-bottomed ships are often covered with Mussels, all clinging by their natural cables, and it is thought that the cases which sometimes occur of being poisoned by eating Mussels, or “musselled,” as the malady is called by the seafaring population, are due to the fact that the Mussels have anchored themselves to copper, and have in consequence imbibed the verdigris.
Passing from salt to fresh water, we come to a natural cable which is very common, and yet, on account of its practical invisibility, is almost unknown, except by naturalists. I refer to the curious cable which is constructed by the common Water-snail (Limnæa stagnalis), which has already been mentioned in its capacity of a boat.
This creature has a way of attaching itself to some fixed object, such as a water-lily leaf, by means of a gelatinous thread, which it can elongate at pleasure, and by means of which it can retain its position in a stream, or in still water can sink itself to the bottom, and ascend to the same spot. This cable seems to be made of the same glairy secretion as that which surrounds the egg-masses which are found so plentifully on leaves and stones in our fresh waters, and, like that substance, is all but invisible in the water, so that an inexperienced eye would not be able to see it, even if it were pointed out.
Slight, gelatinous, and almost invisible in the water as is this thread, its strength is very much greater than might be supposed. Not only can a mollusc be safely moored in the water by such a cable, but it can be actually suspended in the air, as may be seen from a letter in Hardwicke’s Science Gossip for 1875, p. 190:—
“Last summer (September 29) I met with the following unusual fact. In a green-house, from a vine-leaf which was within a few inches of the glass … a slug was hanging by a thread, which was more than four feet in length, not unlike a spider-web, but evidently much stronger.
“The slug was descending by means of this thread, and, as the glutinous matter from the under part of the body was drawn out by the weight of the creature, it was consolidated into a compact thread by the slug twisting itself in the direction of the hands of a clock, the power of twisting being given by the head, and the part of the body nearest the head being turned in the direction of the twist. There was no tendency to turn in the contrary direction. Evidently the thread became hard as soon as it was drawn away from the body.
“By wetting the sides of slips of glass, I secured two specimens of the thread. In one of these, part was stretched, and part quite loose, the latter appearing flat when seen through a microscope. The thread, which was highly elastic, was increased about three inches in a minute. The slug was white, and about an inch and a half in length.”
Now we come to the elastic system of the Chain Cable, and find it anticipated in Nature in various ways.
One curious example was that of a Spider, which found its wheel-like net in danger from a tempestuous wind. The Spider descended to the ground, a depth of about seven feet, and, instead of attaching its thread to a stone or plant, fastened it to a piece of loose stick, hauled it up a few feet clear of the ground, and then went back to its web. The piece of stick thus left suspended acted in a most admirable manner, giving strength and support, and at the same time yielding partly to the wind.
By accident the thread became broken, and the stick, which was about as thick as an ordinary pencil, and not quite three inches in length, fell to the ground. The Spider immediately descended, attached another thread, and hauled it up as before. In a day or two, when the tempestuous weather had ceased, the Spider voluntarily cut the thread, and allowed the then useless stick to drop.
A curious example of the elastic cable is seen in the egg-case of the Dog-fish, which is given on page 35. The egg-case is formed like that of the common skate, and has a projection from each of its angles. But the projections, instead of being mere flattened horns, are lengthened into long elastic strings, tapering towards the ends, and twisted spirally, like the tendrils of a grape-vine.
These tendril-like appendages twist themselves round seaweeds and other objects, and, on account of their spiral form, can hardly ever be torn from their attachments. Sometimes after a storm the egg is thrown on the shore, still clinging to the seaweed, but to find an egg detached is very rarely done.
I have already mentioned the tendrils of the vine, and their great strength. The reader may remember the corresponding cases of the Pea and the Bryony, the latter being a most remarkable example of the strength gained by the spiral form. It clambers about hedges, is exposed to the fiercest winds, has large and broad leaves, and yet such a thing as a Bryony being blown off a hedge is scarcely, if ever, seen. I never saw an example myself, though I have had long experience in hedges.
Another excellent example of this principle is found in the Vallisneria plant, which of late years has become tolerably familiar to us through the means of fresh-water aquaria, though it is not indigenous to this country.
In this plant the elastic power of the spiral cable is beautifully developed. It is an aquatic plant, mostly found in running waters, and has a most singular mode of development. It is diœcious—i.e. the male, or stamen-bearing, and the female, or pistil-bearing flowers, grow upon separate plants.
It has to deposit its seeds in the bed of the stream, and yet it is necessary that both sets of flowers should be exposed to the air and sun before they become able to perform their several duties. Add to this the fact that the male flower is quite as small in proportion to the female as is the case with the lac and scale insects, and the problem of their reaching each other becomes apparently intricate, though it is solved in a beautifully simple manner.
Fertilisation cannot be conducted by means of insects, as is the case with so many diœcious terrestrial plants, and it is absolutely necessary that actual contact should take place between them. This difficult process is effected as follows:—
The female flowers are attached to a very long spiral and closely coiled footstalk, and, when they are sufficiently developed, the footstalk elongates itself until the flower rests on the surface of the water, where it is safely anchored by its spiral cable, the coils yielding to the wavelets, and keeping the flower in its place.
Meanwhile the tiny male flowers are being developed at the bottom of the river, and are attached to very short footstalks. When they are quite ripe they disengage themselves from their footstalks, and rise to the surface of the river. Being carried along by the stream, they are sure to come in contact with the anchored female flowers. This having been done, and the seeds beginning to be developed, the spiral footstalk again coils itself tightly, and brings the seeds close to the bed of the stream, where they can take root.
There are other numerous examples, of which any reader, even slightly skilled in botany, need not be reminded, most of them being, in one form or another, modifications of the leaf or the petal, which, after all, are much the same thing. The vine and passion-flower are, however, partial exceptions.
I may here mention that soon after the failure of the first Atlantic telegraph cable, an invention was patented of a very much lighter cable, enclosed in a tube of india-rubber, and being coiled spirally at certain distances, so that the coils might give the elasticity which constitutes strength. The cable was never made, its manufacture proving to be too costly; but the idea of lightness and elasticity, having been evidently taken from the spiral tendrils of the bryony, was certainly a good one, and I should have wished to see it tried on a smaller scale than the Atlantic requires.
As a natural consequence, after the cable comes the Anchor, which in almost every form has been anticipated by Nature, whether it be called by the name of anchor, kedge, drag, or grapnel.
On the accompanying illustrations are shown a number of corresponding forms of the Anchor, together