Fig. 107. Young Nanomia; magnified.Fig. 107. Young Nanomia; magnified.Fig, 108. Young Nanomia with rudimentary Medusae.Fig. 108. Young Nanomia with rudimentary Medusæ.Fig. 109. Young Nanomia, older than Fig. 108.Fig. 109. Young Nanomia, older than Fig. 108.Fig. 110. Heart-shaped swimming bell of NanomiaFig. 110. Heart-shaped swimming bell of Nanomia; magnified.
[fig 111]
Fig. 111. Cluster of Medusæ with tentacles having pendent knobs.Fig. 111. Cluster of Medusæ with tentacles having pendent knobs.
Besides these locomotive members, the community contains three kinds of Hydræ arising as buds from the primitive Hydra below the swimming bells, the latter remaining always nearest the oil bubble at the top, while the first Hydra, the founder of the community, in proportion as the new individuals are added, is gradually pushed downward, and remains always at the end of the string, the stem of which is formed by the elongated neck of the primitive Hydra. All the three sets of Hydræ have certain features in common, while they have other distinguishing characteristics marking them as distinct individuals. They are all accompanied by triangular shields (Fig. 111), arising with them at the same point on the parent stem, and all are furnished with tentacles hanging down from the summit of the Hydra at the side opposite the shield. These facts are important to remember, since we shall presently perceive, upon analyzing their parts, that these Hydræ have a close homology to the Hybocodon. The tentacles differ in structure as well as in number for each kind of Hydra. Having shown in what characters they agree, let us now take each set individually, and see what differences they present.
In the first set which we will examine the Hydra is open-mouthed. Like the original Hydra, it is only a digestive tube, similar in all respects to the proboscis of a Medusa-disk. Its only function is that of feeding, and it shows a laudable fidelity to its calling, being very constantly and earnestly engaged in the work. Let us add, however, that in this instance the occupation is not a wholly selfish one, since the cavity of every Hydra communicates with that of the stem, and the food taken in at these over-gaping mouths, is at once circulated through all parts of the community, with the exception of the oil bubble, from which it is excluded by the transverse partition dividing it fromall the lower members of the stock. The shields share in this general nourishment of the compound body by means of chymiferous tubes extending toward the outer surface, and opening into the cavity of the stem. The mouth of this Hydra is very flexible (Fig. 111), expanding and contracting at the will of the animal, and sometimes acting as a sucker, fastening itself, leech-like, on the object from which it seeks to draw its sustenance. (See Fig. 111.) The tentacles attached to this set of Hydræ are exceedingly long and delicate. They arise in a cluster at the upper and inner edge of the Hydra, just at its point of juncture with the stem, and being extremely flexible and contractile, their long tendril-like sprays are thrown out in an endless variety of attitudes. (See Fig. 115.) Along the whole length of this kind of tentacle are attached little pendent knobs at even distances;Fig. 112represents such a knob greatly magnified, and absolutely paved with lasso-cells, the inner and smaller ones being surrounded by a row of larger ones.
[fig 112]
[fig 113]
The second set of Hydræ (Fig. 113), are also open-mouthed, corresponding with those described above, in everything except the tentacles, which are both shorter and thicker, and are coiled in a corkscrew-like spiral. These are thickly studded for their whole length with lasso-cells. (See Fig. 113.)
In the third and last set of Hydræ (Fig. 114), the mouthis closed; they have, therefore, no share in feeding the community, but receive their nourishment from the cavity of the stem into which they open. They differ also from the others in having a single tentacle instead of a cluster, and on this tentacle the lasso-cells are scattered at uneven distances (Fig. 114). The special function of these closed Hydræ is yet to be explained; they have oil bubbles at their upper end (seeFig. 111, the top Hydra), and though we have never seen them drop off, it seems natural to suppose that they do separate from the parent stock, and found new communities similar to those from which they arise.
[fig 114]
[fig 115]
The intricate story of this singular compound existence does not end here. There is still another set of individuals whose share in maintaining the life of the community is by no means the least important. Little bunches of buds, of a different character from any described above, may be seen at certain distances along the lower part of the stem. These are the reproductive individuals. They are clusters of imperfect sexual Medusæ, resembling the rudimentary Medusæ of Tubularia (Fig. 99), which are never freed from the parent stem, but discharge their contents at the breeding season. Like many other compound Hydroids, the sexes are never combined, in one of these communities; they are always either male or female, and as those with female buds have not yet been observed, we can only judge by inference of their probable character. Front what is already known, however, of Hydroid communities of a like description, we suppose that the process of reproduction must be the same in these, and that the female stocks of Nanomia give birth to small Jelly-fishes, the eggs of which become oil bubbles, similar to that with which our little community began. (Fig. 108.)
[fig 116]
Fig. 116. Oil float of Nanomia; greatly magnified.Fig. 116. Oil float of Nanomia; greatly magnified.
By the time all these individuals have been added along the length of the stem, the stem itself has grown to be about three inches long (Fig. 115), though the tentacles hanging from the various members of the community give to the whole an appearance of much greater length. The motion of this little string ofliving beings is most graceful. The oil bubble (Fig. 116) at the upper end is their float; the swimming bells immediately below it (Fig. 110), by the convulsive contractions of which they move along, are their oars. The water is not taken in and expelled again by all the bells at once, but first from all the bells on one side, beginning at the lower one, and then from all those on the opposite side, beginning also at the lower one; this alternateaction gives to their movements a swinging, swaying character, expressive of the utmost freedom and grace. Whether such a little community darts with a lightning-like speed through the water, or floats quietly up and down, for its movements are both rapid and gentle, it always sways in this way from side to side. Its beauty is increased by the spots of bright red scattered along the length of the stock at the base and tips of the Hydræ, as well as upon the tentacles. The movements and attitudes of the tentacles are most various. Sometimes they shoot them out in straight lines on either side, and then the aspect of the whole thing reminds one of a tiny chandelier in which the coral drops make the pendants, or they may be caught up in a succession of loops or floating in long streamers; indeed, there is no end to the fantastic forms they assume, ever astonishing you by some new combination of curves. The prevailing hue of the whole community is rosy, with the exception of the oil bubble or float, which looks a bright garnet color when seen in certain lights.
Let us now compare one of the Hydræ hanging from the stem (Fig. 113) with the Hybocodon (Fig. 102). The reader will remember the unsymmetrical bell of this singular Medusa, one half of its disk more largely developed than the other, with the proboscis hanging from the centre, and the cluster of tentacles from one side. Let us now split the bell so as to divide it in two halves with the proboscis hanging between them; next enlarge the side where there are no tentacles, and give it a triangular outline; then contract the opposite side so as to draw up the cluster of tentacles to meet the base of the proboscis, and what have we? The proboscis now corresponds to the Hydra of our Nanomia, with the cluster of tentacles attached to its upper edge (Fig. 113), while the enlarged half of the bell represents the shield. If this homology be correct it shows that the Nanomia is not, as some naturalists have supposed all the Siphonophores to be, a single animal, its different parts being a mere collection of organs endowed with special functions, as feeding, locomotion, reproduction, &c.,but that it is indeed a community of distinct individuals corresponding exactly to the polymorphous Hydroids, whose stocks are attached, such as Hydractinia, and differing from them only in being free and floating.
[fig 117]
Fig. 117. Physalia; a b air sac with crest c, m bunches of individuals, n central tentacles, t t expanded tentacles. (Agassiz.)Fig. 117. Physalia;a bair sac with crestc,mbunches of individuals,ncentral tentacles,t texpanded tentacles. (Agassiz.)
The homologies of the Siphonophoræ or floating Hydroids, with many of the fixed Hydroids, is perhaps more striking when we compare the earlier stages of their growth. Suppose, for instance, that the planula of our Melicertum (See Fig. 81) should undergo its development without becoming attached to the ground,—what should we then have? A floating community (Fig. 83), including on the same stock like the Nanomia, both sterile and fertile Hydræ, from the latter of which Medusæ bells are developed. The little Hydractinia community (Fig. 100), in which we have no less than four distinct kinds of individuals, each performing a definite distinct function, affords a still better comparison.
Physalia. (Physalia ArethusaTil.)
Among the most beautiful of the Siphonophores, is the well-known Physalia or Portuguese man-of-war, represented inFig. 117. The float above is a sort of crested sac or bladder, while the long streamers below consist of a number of individuals corresponding in their nature and functions to those composing a Hydroid community. Among them are the fertile and sterile Hydræ (Fig. 118), the feeders and Medusæ bells (Fig. 119). The Physalia properly belongs to tropical waters, but sometimes floats northward, in the warm current of the Gulf Stream, and is stranded on Cape Cod. When found so far from their home, however, they have usually lost much of their vividness of color;to judge of their beauty one should see them in the Gulf of Mexico, sailing along with their brilliant float fully expanded, their crest raised, and their long tentacles trailing after them.
[fig 118]
[fig 119]
Velella. (Velella muticaBosc.)
Another very beautiful floating Hydroid, occasionally caught in our waters, though its home is also far to the south, is the Velella (Fig. 120). It is bright blue in color, and in form not unlike a little flat boat with an upright sail. Its Medusa (Fig. 121) resembles so much that of some of our Tubularians, that it has actually been removed on this account from the old group of Siphonophoræ, and placed next the Tubularians; another evidence of the close affinity between the former and the Hydroids.
[fig 120]
[fig 121]
MODE OF CATCHING JELLY-FISHES.
[fig 122]
Fig. 122. Ptychogena, natural size.Fig. 122. Ptychogena, natural size.
Not the least attractive feature in the study of these animals, is the mode of catching them. We will suppose it to be a warm, still morning at Nahant, in the last week of August, with a breath of autumn in the haze that softens the outlines of the opposite shore, and makes the horizon line a little dim. It is about eleven o'clock, for few of the Jelly-fishes are early risers; they like the warm sun, and at an earlier hour they are not to be found very near the surface. The sea is white and glassy, with a slight swell but no ripple, and seems almost motionless as we put off in a dory from the beach near Saunders's Ledge. We are provided with two buckets, one for the larger Jelly-fishes, the Zygodactyla, Aurelia, &c., the other for the smaller fry, such as the various kinds of Ctenophoræ, the Tima, Melicertum, &c. Beside these, we have two nets and glass bowls, in which to take up the more fragile creatures that cannot bear rough handling. A bump or two on the stones before we are fairly launched, a shove of the oar to keep the boat well out from the rocks along which we skirt for a moment, and now we are off. We pull around the point to our left and turn toward the Ledge, filling our buckets as we go. Now we are crossing the shallows that make the channel between the inner and outer rocks of Saunders's Ledge. Look down,—how clear the water is and how lovely the sea-weeds, above which we are floating, dark brown and purple fronds of the Ulvæ, and the long blades of the Laminaria with mossy green tufts between. As we issue from this narrow passage we must be on the watch, for the tide is rising, and may come laden with treasures, as it sweeps through it. A sudden cry from the oarsman at the bow, not of rocks or breakers ahead, but of "A new Jelly-fish astern!" The quick eye of the naturalist of the party pronounces it unknown to zoölogists, un-described by any scientific pen. Now what excitement! "Out with the net!—we have passed him! he has gone down! no, there he is again! back us a bit." Here he is floating close by us; now he is within the circle of the net, but he is too delicateto be caught safely in that way, so, while one of us moves the net gently about, to keep him within the space enclosed by it, another slips the glass bowl under him, lifts it quickly, and there is a general exclamation of triumph and delight,—we have him. And now we look more closely; yes, decidedly he is a novelty as well as a beauty. (SeeFig. 122,Ptychogena lacteaA. Ag.) Those white mossy tufts for ovaries are unlike anything we have found before (Fig. 123), and not represented in any published figures of Jelly-fishes. We float about here for a while, hoping to find more of the same kind, but no others make their appearance, and we keep on our way to East Point, where there is a capital fishing ground for Medusæ of all sorts. Here two currents meet, and the Jelly-fishes are stranded as it were along the line of juncture, able to move neither one way nor the other. At this spot the sea actually swarms with life; one cannot dip the net into the water without bringing up Pleurobrachia, Bolina, Idyia, Melicertum, &c., while the larger Zygodactyla and Aurelia float about the boat in numbers. These large Jelly-fishes produce a singular effect as one sees them at some depth beneath the water;the Aureliæ, especially, with their large white disks, look like pale phantoms wandering about far below the surface; but they constantly float upward, and if not too far out of reach, one may bring them up by stirring the water under them with the end of the oar.
[fig 123]
Fig. 123. Ovary of Ptychogena; magnified.Fig. 123. Ovary of Ptychogena; magnified.
When we have passed an hour or so floating about just beyond East Point, and have nearly filled our buckets with Jelly-fishes of all sizes and descriptions, we turn and row homeward. The buckets look very pretty as they stand in the bottom of the boat with the sunshine lighting up their living contents. The Idyia glitters and sparkles with ever-changing hues, the Pleurobrachiæ dart about, trailing their long graceful tentacles after them, the golden Melicerta are kept in constant motion by their quick, sudden contractions, and the delicate transparent Tima floats among them all, not the less beautiful because so colorless. There is an unfortunate Idyia, who, by some mistake, has got into the wrong bucket with the larger Jelly-fish, where a Zygodactyla has entangled it among his tentacles and is quietly breakfasting upon it.
During our row the tide has been rising, and as we near the channel of Saunders's Ledge, it is running through more strongly than before, and at the entrance of the shallows a pleasant surprise is prepared us; no less than half a dozen of our new friends (the Ptychogena as he has been baptized), come to look for their lost companion perhaps, await us there, and are presently added to our spoils. We reach the shore heavily laden with the fruits of our morning's excursion.
The most interesting part of the work for the naturalist isstill to come. On our return to the Laboratory, the contents of the buckets are poured into separate glass bowls and jars; holding them up against the light, we can see which are our best and rarest specimens; these we dip out in glass cups and place by themselves. If any small specimens are swimming about at the bottom of the jar, and refuse to come within our reach, there is a very simple mode of catching them. Dip a glass tube into the water, keeping the upper end closed with your finger, and sink it till the lower end is just above the animal you want to entrap; then lift your finger, and as the air rushes out the water rushes in, bringing with it the little creature you are trying to catch. When the specimens are well assorted, the microscope is taken out, and the rest of the day is spent in studying the new Jelly-fishes, recording the results, making notes, drawings, &c.
Still more attractive than the rows by day are the night expeditions in search of Jelly-fishes. For this object we must choose a quiet night, for they will not come to the surface if the water is troubled. Nature has her culminating hours, and she brings us now and then a day or night on which she seems to have lavished all her treasures. It was on such a rare evening, at the close of the summer of 1862, that we rowed over the same course by Saunders's Ledge and East Point described above. The August moon was at her full, the sky was without a cloud, and we floated on a silver sea; pale streamers of the aurora quivered in the north, and notwithstanding the brilliancy of the moon, they too cast their faint reflection in the ocean. We rowed quietly along past the Ledge, past Castle Rock, the still surface of the water unbroken, except by the dip of the oars and the ripple of the boat, till we reached the line off East Point, where the Jelly-fishes are always most abundant, if they are to be found at all. Now dip the net into the water. What genie under the sea has wrought this wonderful change? Our dirty, torn old net is suddenly turned to a web of gold, and as we lift it from the water heavy rills of molten metal seem to flow down its sides and collect in a glowing mass at the bottom. The truth is, the Jelly-fishes, so sparkling and brilliant in the sunshine, have a still lovelier light of their own at night; they give out a greenish golden light as brilliant as that of the brightest glow-worm, and on acalm summer night, at the spawning season, when they come to the surface in swarms, if you do but dip your hand into the water it breaks into sparkling drops beneath your touch. There are no more beautiful phosphorescent animals in the sea than the Medusæ; it would seem that the expression, "rills of molten metal" could hardly apply to anything so impalpable as a Jelly-fish, but, although so delicate in structure, their gelatinous disks give them a weight and substance; and at night, when their transparency is not perceived, and their whole mass is aglow with phosphorescent light, they truly have an appearance of solidity which is most striking, when they are lifted out of the water and flow down the sides of the net.
The various kinds present very different aspects; wherever the larger Aureliæ and Zygodactylæ float to the surface, they bring with them a dim spreading halo of light, the smaller Ctenophoræ become little shining spheres, while a thousand lesser creatures add their tiny lamps to the illumination of the ocean; for this so-called phosphorescence of the sea is by no means due to the Jelly-fishes alone, but is also produced by many other animals, differing in the color as well as the intensity of their light, and it is a curious fact that they seem to take possession of the field by turns. You may row over the same course, which a few nights since glowed with a greenish golden light wherever the surface of the water was disturbed, and though equally brilliant, the phosphorescence has now a pure white light. On such an evening, be quite sure that when you empty your buckets on your return and examine their contents you will find that the larger part of your treasures are small crustacea (little shrimps). Of course there will be other phosphorescent creatures, Jelly-fishes, &c., among them, but the predominant color is given by these little crustacea. On another evening the light will have a bluish tint, and then the phosphorescence is principally due to the Dysmorphosa (Fig. 105).
Notwithstanding the beauty of a moonlight row, if you would see the phosphorescence to greatest advantage you must choose a dark night, when the motion of your boat sets the sea on fire around you, and a long undulating wave of light rolls off from your oar as you lift it from the water. On a brilliant eveningthis effect is lost in a great degree, and it is not until you dip your net fairly under the moonlit surface of the sea, that you are aware how full of life it is. Occasionally one is tempted out by the brilliancy of the phosphorescence, when the clouds are so thick that water, sky, and land become one indiscriminate mass of black, and the line of rocks can be discerned only by the vivid flash of greenish golden light, when the breakers dash against them. At such times there is something wild and weird in the whole scene, which at once fascinates and appalls the imagination; one seems to be rocking above a volcano, for the surface around is intensely black, except where fitful flashes or broad waves of light break from the water under the motion of the boat or the stroke of the oars. It was on a night like this, when the phosphorescence was unusually brilliant, and the sea as black as ink, the surf breaking heavily and girdling the rocky shore with a wall of fire, that our collector was so fortunate as to find in the rich harvest he brought home the entirely new and exceedingly pretty little floating Hydroid, described under the name of Nanomia (Fig. 115). It was in its very infancy (Fig. 108), a mere bubble, not yet possessed of the various appendages which eventually make up its complex structure; but it was nevertheless very important to have seen it in this early stage of its existence, since, when a few full-grown specimens were found in the autumn, which lived for some days in confinement and quietly allowed their portraits to be taken (see Fig. 115), it was easy to connect the adult animal with the younger phase of its own life and thus make a complete history.
Marine phosphorescence is no new topic, and we have dwelt too long, perhaps, upon a phenomenon that every voyager has seen, and many have described. Its effect is very different, when seen from the deck of a vessel, from its appearance as one floats through its midst, distinguishing the very creatures that produce it, and any account of the Medusæ which did not include this most characteristic feature would be incomplete.
ECHINODERMS.
Our illustrations and descriptions of Echinoderms are scanty in comparison to those of the preceding class; for while, in consequence, perhaps, of the combined influence of the Gulf Stream and the cold arctic current on the New England shore, Acalephs are largely represented in our waters, our marine fauna is meagre in Echinoderms. But although we have few varieties, those which do establish themselves on a coast seemingly so ungenial for others of their kind, such as the Echinus, and our common Star-fish, for instance, thrive well and are very abundant. The class of Echinoderms includes five orders, viz.Crinoids,Ophiurans,Star-fishes,Sea-urchins, andHolothurians. The animals composing these orders differ so widely in appearance that it was very long before their true relations were detected, and it was seen that all their external differences were united under a common plan. Let us compare, for instance, the worm-like Holothurians (Figs. 124,126,127) with all the host of Star-fishes (Figs. 142,146,147) and Sea-urchins (Figs. 131,139), or compare the radiating form of the Star-fish, its arms spreading in every direction, with the close spherical outline of the Sea-urchin, or the Crinoid floating at the end of a stem (Fig. 152) with either of these, and we shall cease to wonder that naturalists failed to find at once a unity of idea under all these varieties of execution. And yet the fundamental structure of the class of Echinoderms is represented as distinctly by any one of its five orders as by any other, and is absolutely identical in all. They differ only by trifling modifications of development.
In Echinoderms as a class, the body presents three regions differing in structure, and on the greater or less development of these regions or systems, as we may call them, their chief differences are based. Take, for instance, the dorsal system, the nature of which is explained by the name, indicating of course the back of the animal, though it does not necessarily imply the upper side of the body, since some of the Echinoderms, as the stemmed Crinoids, for example, carry the dorsal side downward, whilethe Star-fishes and Sea-urchins carry it upward, and the Holothurians, moving with the mouth forward, have the dorsal system at the opposite end of the body. Whatever the natural attitude of the animal, however, and the consequent position of the dorsal region, it exists alike in all the five orders, though it has not the same extent and importance in each. But in all it is made up of similar parts, bears the same relation to the rest of the body, has the same share in the general economy of the animal. And though when we compare the spreading back of a Star-fish with the small area on the top of a Sea-urchin, where all the zones unite, we may not at once see the correspondence between them, yet a careful comparison of all their structural details shows that they are both built with the same elements and represent the same region, though it is stretched to the utmost in the one case, and greatly contracted in the other.
This being true of the dorsal system, let us look at another equally important structural feature in this class. All Echinoderms have locomotive organs peculiar to themselves, a kind of suckers which may be more or less numerous, larger or smaller, in different species, but are always appendages of the same character. These are variously distributed over the body, but always with a certain regularity occupying definite spaces, shown by investigation to be homologous in all. For instance, the rays of the Star-fish correspond in every detail on their under side, along which the locomotive suckers run, with the zones on the Sea-urchin, from end to end of which the suckers are arranged; and the same is equally true of the distribution of the suckers on the Holothurians, Ophiurans, and Crinoids, though, as most persons are less familiar with these orders than with the other two, it might not be so easy to point out the coincidence to our readers. These suckers are called the ambulacra, the lines along which they run are called the ambulacral rows or zones, while the system of locomotion as a whole is known as the ambulacral system. Since these organs are thus regularly distributed over the body in distinct zones or rows, it follows that the latter must be divided by intervening spaces. These intervals are called the interambulacral spaces; but while in some orders they are occupied by larger plates and prominentspines, as in the Sea-urchin and Star-fish, in others they are either comparatively insignificant or completely suppressed, as in the Crinoids and Ophiurans. Such are the three regions or systems which by their greater or less development introduce an almost infinite variety of combinations into this highest class of Radiates. It may not be amiss before proceeding further to compare the five orders with reference to this point, and see which of these three systems has the preponderance in each one.
Taking the orders in their rank and beginning with the lowest, we find in the Crinoids that the dorsal system preponderates, being composed of highly complicated plates, and developed to such a degree as to form in many instances a stem by which the animal is attached to the ground, while the ambulacral system is limited to a comparatively small area, and the interambulacral system is wanting. The order of Crinoids has diminished so much in modern geological times that we must consult its fossil forms in order to understand fully the peculiar adaptation of the Echinoderm plan in this group.
In the Ophiurans, the dorsal system is still large, and though it no longer stretches out to form a stem, it folds over on the under side of the animal so as to enclose entirely the ambulacral system, forming a kind of shield for the arms. Here also the interambulacral system is wanting.
In the Star-fishes the dorsal system encroaches less upon the structure of the animal. The back and oral side here correspond exactly in size, and though the flat leathery upper surface of the animal, covered with spines, serves as a protection to the delicate ambulacral suckers which find their way between the rows of small plates along the under side of the arms, yet it does not enfold them as in the Ophiurans. On the contrary, in the Star-fishes the ambulacral rows are protected on either side by a row of the so-called interambulacral plates, through which no suckers pass.
In the Sea-urchin, the dorsal system is contracted to a minimum, forming a small area on the top of the animal, the rows of interambulacral plates which are separated and lie on either side of the ambulacra in the Star-fish being united in the Sea-urchin, and both the ambulacral and the interambulacral systems bentupward, meeting in the small dorsal area above, so as to form a spherical outline. Here the ambulacral and interambulacral systems have taken a great preponderance over the dorsal system, and the same is the case with the Holothurians, in which the same structure is greatly elongated, the dorsal system being thus pushed out as it were to the end of a cylinder, while the ambulacral and interambulacral systems run along its whole length. All Echinoderms without exception have ambulacral tubes, even though in some there are no external ambulacral suckers connected with them.
There is one organ peculiar to the class of Echinoderms, the general structure of which may be described here, since it is common to them all, with the exception of the Crinoids, the anatomy of which is, however, so imperfectly understood, that we are hardly justified in assuming that it does not exist even in that order. This organ is known as the madreporic body; it is a small sieve or limestone filter opening into a tube or canal; by means of this tube, which connects with the ambulacral system, the water from without, first filtered through the madreporic body and thus freed from any impurities, is conveyed to the ambulacra. In the more detailed account of the different orders we shall see what is the position of this singular organ in each group, and how it is adapted in them all to their special structure. The development of Echinoderms forms one of the most wonderful chapters in the annals of Natural History. Marvellous as is the embryonic history of the Acalephs, including all the different aspects they assume in the cycle of their growth, it is thrown into the shade by the transformations which Echinoderms undergo before assuming their adult condition. This singular mode of development, although it has features recalling the development of Jelly-fishes from Hydroids, is nevertheless entirely distinct from it, and is known only in the class of Echinoderms. As the whole story is given at length in the chapter on the embryology of the Echinoderms, we need only allude to it here in general terms. We owe the discovery of this remarkable process to Johannes Müller, one of the greatest anatomists of this century.
HOLOTHURIANS.
[fig 124]
Fig. 124. Synapta, natural size.Fig. 124. Synapta, natural size.
Synapta. (Synapta tenuisAyres.)
This is one of the most curious of the Holothurians, and easily observed on account of its transparency, which allows us to see its internal structure. It has a long cylindrical body (Fig. 124) along the length of which run the five rows of ambulacra, which are in this instance closed tubes without any projecting suckers or locomotive organs of any kind attached to them, so that the name is retained only on account of their correspondence in position, and not from any similarity of function to the ambulacra in Star-fishes and Sea-urchins. But though the ambulacra in Synapta are in fact mere water-tubes like the vertical tubes in the Ctenophoræ, by means of which the water, first filtered through the madreporic body, circulates along the skin, they are as organs perfectly homologous with the ambulacra in all other Echinoderms. The mouth has a circular tube around the aperture, and a wreath of branching tentacles encircling it. The habits of these animals are singular. They live in very coarse mud, but they surround themselves with a thin envelope of finer sand, which they form by selecting thesmall particles with their tentacles, and making a ring around their anterior extremity. This ring they then push down along the length of the body, and continue this process, adding ring after ring, till they have entirely encircled themselves with a sand tube. They move the rings down partly by means of contractions of the body, but also by the aid of innumerable appendages over the whole surface. To the naked eye these appendages appear like little specks on the skin; but under the microscope they are seen to be warts projecting from the surface, each one containing a little anchor with the arms turned upward (Fig. 125). Around the mouth[fig 125]Fig. 125. Anchor of Synapta; a anchor, w plate upon which anchor is attached; greatly magnified.Fig. 125. Anchor of Synapta;aanchor,wplate upon which anchor isattached; greatly magnified.these warts are larger, but do not contain any anchors. It will be seen hereafter that these appendages are homologous with certain organs in other Holothurians, the warts with the anchors corresponding to the limestone pavement covering or partially covering the surface of the Cuvieria, for instance, while those without anchors correspond to the so-called false ambulacra in Pentacta. By means of these appendages, though aided also by the contractions of the body, the Synaptæ move through the mud and collect around themselves the sand tube in which they are encased. Their food is very coarse for animals so delicate in structure. When completely empty of food they are white, perfectly transparent, and the spiral tube forming the digestive cavity may be seen wound up and hanging loosely in the centre for the whole length of the body. In such a condition it is of a pale yellow color. But look at one that is gorged with food. The whole length of the alimentary canal is then crowded with sand, pebbles, and shells, distinctly seen through the transparent skin, and giving a dark gray color to the whole body. They swallow the sand for the sake of the nutritious substance it contains, and having assimilated and digested this, they then eject the harder materials. The motion of the body in consequence of its contractionsis much like that of leeches, and on this account these Synaptæ were long supposed to be a transition type between the Radiates and worms. The body grows to a great length, often half a yard and more, but constantly drops large portions from its posterior part, by means of its own contractions, or breaks itself up by the expulsion of the intestines, which are very readily cast out. The tentacles are hollow, consisting of a central rib with branches from either side. In the Synaptæ, as in all the Holothurians, the madreporic body is placed near the mouth, between two of the ambulacra, and opposite the fifth or odd one. The tube, connecting with the central tube around the mouth, by means of which it communicates with the ambulacral tubes, is very short.
Caudina. (Caudina arenataStimps.)
[fig 126]