Very few beetles have ever seen a Glass Pond. I once spent a week inone, and though I think, with good management, and in society suitablyselected, it may be a comfortable home enough, I advise mywater-neighbours to be content with the pond in the wood.
The story of my brief sojourn in the Glass Pond is a story with a moral,and it concerns two large classes of my fellow-creatures: those who livein ponds and--those who don't. If I do not tell it, no one else will.Those connected with it who belong to the second class (namely, Francis,Molly, and the learned Doctor, their grandfather) will not, I am sure.And as to the rest of us, there is none left but--
However, that is the end of my tale, not the beginning.
The beginning, as far as I am concerned, was in the Pond. It is verydifficult to describe a pond to people who cannot live under water, justas I found it next door to impossible to make a minnow I knew believe indry land. He said, at last, that perhaps there might be some littlespace beyond the pond in hot weather, when the water was low; and thatwas the utmost that he would allow. But of all cold-bloodedunconvinceable creatures, the most obstinate are fish.
Men are very different. They do not refuse to believe what lies beyondtheir personal experience. I respected the learned Doctor, and wasreally sorry for the disadvantages under which he laboured. That acreature of his intelligence should have only two eyes, and those noteven compound ones--that he should not be able to see under water or inthe dark--that he should not only have nothing like six legs, but bequite without wings, so that he could not even fly out of his own windowfor a turn in the air on a summer's evening--these drawbacks made mequite sorry for him; for he had none of the minnow's complacentignorance. He knew my advantages as well as I knew them myself, and boreme no ill-will for them.
"The _Dyticus marginalis_, or Great Water-Beetle," I have heard him say,in the handsomest manner, "is equally at home in the air, or in thewater. Like all insects in the perfect state, it has six legs, of whichthe hindmost pair are of great strength, and fringed so as to serve aspaddles. It has very powerful wings, and, with Shakespeare's witches, itflies by night. It has two simple, and two sets of compound eyes. Whenit goes below water, it carries a stock of air with it, on thediving-bell principle; and when this is exhausted, comes to the surface,tail uppermost, for a fresh supply. It is the most voracious of thecarnivorous water-beetles."
The last sentence is rather an unkind reflection on my good appetite,but otherwise the Doctor spoke handsomely of me, and without envy.
And yet I am sure it could have been no matter of wonder if my compoundeyes, for instance, had been a very sore subject with a man who knew ofthem, and whose one simple pair were so nearly worn out.
More than once, when I have seen the old gentleman put a green shade onto his reading-lamp, and glasses before his eyes, I have felt inclinedto hum,--"Ah, my dear Doctor, if you could only take a cool turn in thepond! You would want no glasses or green shades, where the light comestenderly subdued through water and water-weeds."
Indeed, after living, as I can, in all three--water, dry land, andair,--I certainly prefer to be under water. Any one whose appetite is askeen, and whose hind-legs are as powerful as mine, will understand thedelights of hunting, and being hunted, in a pond; where the light comesdown in fitful rays and reflections through the water, and gleams amongthe hanging roots of the frog-bit, and the fading leaves of thewater-starwort, through the maze of which, in and out, hither andthither, you pursue, and are pursued, in cool and skilful chase, by amixed company of your neighbours, who dart, and shoot, and dive, andcome and go, and any one of whom at any moment may either eat you or beeaten by you.
And if you want peace and quiet, where can one bury oneself so safelyand completely as in the mud? A state of existence, without mud at thebottom, must be a life without repose.
I was in the mud one day, head downwards, when human voices came to methrough the water. It was summer, and the pond was low at the time.
"Oh, Francis! Francis! The Water-Soldier[D] is in flower."
"Hooray! Dig him up for the aquarium! Grandfather says it's veryrare--doesn't he?"
"He says it's not at all common; and there's only one, Francis. Itwould be a pity if we didn't get it up by the roots, and it died."
"Nonsense, Molly. I'll get it up. But let's get the beasts first. Youget the pickle-jar ready, whilst I fix the stick on to the colander."
"Does cook know you've taken it, Francis?"
"By this time she does, I should think. Look here, Molly--I wish youwould try and get this stick right. It wants driving through thehandles. I'm just going to have a look at the Water-Soldier."
"You always give me the work to do," Molly complained; and as she spoke,I climbed up an old stake that was firmly planted in the mud, and seatedmyself on the top, which stood out of the water, and looked at her.
She was a neat-looking little soul, with rosy cheeks, and a resoluteexpression of countenance. She looked redder and firmer than usual asshe drove the broomstick through the handles of the colander, whilst theboy was at the other side of the pond with the Water-Soldier, whosemaiden-blossom shone white among its sword-leaves.
It shone in the sunshine which came gaily through a gap in the trees,and warmed my coat through to my wings, and made the pond look lovely.That greedy _Ranatra_, who eats so much, and never looks a bit the moresolid for his meals, crept up a reed and sunned his wings; thewater-gnats skimmed and skated about, measuring the surface of the waterwith their long legs; the "boatmen" shot up and down till one was quitegiddy, showing the white on their bodies, like swallows wheeling fortheir autumn-flight. Even the water-scorpion moved slowly over a sunnyplace from the roots of an arrow-head lily to a dark corner under theduck-weed.
"Molly!" shouted the boy; "I wish you'd come and give a pull at theWater-Soldier. I've nearly got him up; but the leaves cut my hands, andyou've got gloves. If the colander is ready, I'll begin to fish. There'sa beetle on that stick. I wish I were near enough, I could snatch him uplike anything."
"I wouldn't advise you to," said Molly. "Grandfather says thatwater-beetles have got daggers in their tails. Besides, some of thebeetles are very greedy and eat the fish."
"The Big Black one doesn't," said Francis. "He said so. _Hydroeus piceus_is the name, and I dare say that's the one. It's the biggest of all thewater-beetles and very harmless."
"He _may_ be a good one," said Molly, looking thoughtfully andunmistakably at me, "but then he may be one of the bad ones; and if heis, he'll eat everything before him."
But by this time Francis was dipping the colander in and out on theopposite side, and she was left to struggle with the Water-Soldier.
"He's up at last," she announced, and the Soldier was landed on thebank.
"Come round," said the boy; "I've filled three jars."
"I hope you've been careful, Francis. You know Grandfather says that tostock a fresh-water aquarium is like the puzzle of the Fox and the Geeseand the bag of seed. It's no use our having things that eat each other."
"They must eat something," said the boy; "they're used to it at home;and I wish you wouldn't be always cramming Grandfather down my throat. Iwant to do my aquarium my own way; and I gave most towards buying thebell-glass, so it's more mine than yours."
"Well, do as you like; only let us have plenty of water-boatmen," saidMolly.
"I've got half-a-dozen at least; and the last sweep I went very low,quite in the mud, and I've got some most horrid things. There's one ofthem like a flat-iron, with pincers at the point."
"That's a water-scorpion. Oh, Francis! he eats dreadfully."
"I don't believe he can, he's so flat. Molly, is that nasty-lookingthing a dragon-fly larva?"
"I believe it is; for there is the mask. You know his face is so uglynothing would come near him if he didn't wear a mask. Then he lifts itup and snaps suddenly; _he_ really _does_ eat everything!"
"Well, I can't help it. I must have him. I want to see him hatch; and Ishall plant a bullrush for him t
o climb up."
"I found a caddis-worm, with a beautifully built house, in the roots ofthe Water-Soldier, and I'm going to look along the edge for some shells.We must have shell-fish, you know, to keep the aquarium clean. Oh!"
"What is it, Molly? What have you found?"
"Oh, such a lovely spider! A water-spider--a scarlet spider. He's verysmall, but such a colour! Francis dear, may I keep him all to myself? Idon't think I _can_ let him go in with the others. If the dragon-flylarva ate him, I should never forgive myself, and you know you don'tknow for certain that the beetle is _Hydroeus piceus_. I shall give himan aquarium of his very own in a green finger-glass, with nothing but alittle very nice duckweed, and one small snail to keep it clean, like ageneral servant. May I, Francis?"
"By all means. I don't want your scarlet spider. I can get lots more."He went on dipping with the colander, and she began to dig upwater-plants and lay them in a heap. I sat and watched them, but the_Ranatra_ got nervous and tried to go below. As usual, the dry bristlesin his tail would not pierce the water without a struggle, and afterfloundering in the most ludicrous fashion for a few minutes, he fellstraight into the colander, and was put into one of the pickle-jars.
"I've got enough now," said the boy, "and I want to go home and seeabout my net. I must have some fish. Can you carry the plants, Molly?"
"I'll manage," said Molly. "Now I'm ready."
"Wait a minute, though--I'd forgotten the beetle."
When I heard this I dropped into the water; but somehow or other Iturned over very clumsily, and, like the _Ranatra_, I fell through intothe colander, and was transferred to a pickle-jar.
Anything more disagreeable than being shaken up in a glass bottle, withbeetles, and boatmen, and larvae of all sorts and sizes, including adragon-fly in the second stage of his career, I can hardly imagine. Whenthey took us out and put us into the glass pond, matters were certainlybetter, though there is a vast difference between a glass pond and apond in a wood.
The first day it was by no means a bad imitation of a real pond, exceptfor the want of a bed of mud. Molly had covered the bottom of the glasswith gravel which she had steadily washed till water would run clearfrom it, in spite of the impatient exclamations of Francis, that it"would do now," and quite regardless of the inconvenience to which I wassubjected by being kept in the pickle-jar. In this gravel she hadembedded the roots of some Water Crowfoot and other pond-plants. Thestones in the middle were nicely arranged, and well covered with mossand water-weeds. When water had been poured in up to the brim of thebell-glass, and we had been emptied out of the jars, the dragon-flylarva got into a good hole among the stones and ate most of the May-flygrubs, water-shrimps, and so forth, as they came into sight. I did notdo badly myself, and only the bigger and stronger members of our societyand a few skins were there next day, when Francis brought a jar full ofminnows, a small carp, and a bull's-head, and turned them out in ourmidst.
"How they dart and swim round and round!" he exclaimed.
"Splendid," said Molly. "I _am_ so sorry I am going away just now. Youwill try and keep the water fresh, won't you?"
"Of course I will. And let me have the scarlet spider whilst you areaway. I couldn't find another."
"Well, if you must; but do take care, Francis. And here are the twobits of gutta-percha tubing to make into syphons. You must put them intohot water for a minute before you bend them, you know."
"I'll do it to-morrow, Molly; I have nothing else _to_ do, you know,because Edward Brown won't be back for three or four days. So we can donothing about the cricket club."
It was on the third day, when both the pieces of gutta-percha tubingwere in a wash-hand basin of hot water, and the dragon-fly larva and Iwere finishing a minnow, with the help of the water-scorpion, thatMaster Edward Brown arrived unexpectedly, and so pressed his friendFrancis to come out and consult "just for two minutes," and so delayedhim when he got him, that the tubing melted into a shapeless lump, andthe carp died unnoticed by any one but myself.
On the fourth day the glass pond was moved into the conservatory, "to beout of the way." The fish were excellent eating, and though the snailswere at their wits' end as the refuse rotted, and the water became morestagnant, and the weeds grew, till all the shell-fish in the pond couldnot have kept the place clean,--I did not mind it myself. As the watergot low, I found a nice bit of rockwork above water, where I could sitby day, and at night the lights from the drawing-room gave anindescribable stimulus to my wings, and I sailed in, and flew round andround till I was tired, and (forgetting that no pond, not even a bed ofmud, was below me!) drew in my wings, and dropped sharply down on to thefloor. To do the family justice, they learned to know the sound of myfall, and even the old Doctor himself would go down on hands and kneesto hunt for me under the sofa, for fear I should be trodden on.
On the fifth day I swallowed the scarlet spider. I hated myself fordoing it, when I thought of Molly; but the spider was very foolish tomeet me. He should have kept behind. And if I hadn't eaten him, thedragon-fly larva would. What _he_ had eaten, I do not think he couldhave told himself. There was very little left now for any one; even thewater-scorpion had disappeared.
On the sixth day the glass pond had only two tenants worth speakingof--the dragon-fly larva and myself. We had both over-eaten ourselves,and for some hours we moved slowly about through the thickening puddle,nodding civilly when we passed each other among the feathery sprays ofthe Water Crowfoot. Then I began to get hungry. I knew it by feeling animpulse to look out for the dragon-fly larva, and I knew he knew itbecause he began to avoid me.
On the seventh day Molly ran into the conservatory, followed by herbrother, and uttered a cry of dismay.
"Oh, what a state it's in! Where are the syphons?"
"Why, they melted the day Edward Brown came back. We've been having sucha lot of cricket, Molly!"
"There isn't a fish left, and it smells horribly."
"I'm very sorry, Molly. Let's throw it out. I don't want Grandfather tosee it. Let me come."
"No, no, Francis! There may be some left. Yes, there's the beetle. Ishall put it all in a pail and take it back to the pond. Oh dear! ohdear! I can't see anything of the scarlet spider. My beautiful scarletspider! I was so fond of him. Oh, I am so sorry! And no one has wateredthe Soldier, and he's dead too."
"Don't cry, Molly! Please don't cry! I dare say the spider is there,only it's so small."
For some time Molly poked carefully here and there, but the spider wasnot to be found, and the contents of the aquarium were carried back tothe wood.
I was very glad to see the pond again. The water-gnats were takingdimensions as usual, a blue-black beetle sat humming on the stake, anddragon-flies flitted hungrily about, like splinters of a brokenrainbow; but the Water-Soldier's place was empty, and it was neverrefilled. He was the only specimen.
Molly was probably in the right when, after a last vain search for thescarlet spider, as Francis slowly emptied the pail, she said with asigh,
"What makes me so very sorry is, that I don't think we ought to have'collected' things unless we had really attended to them, and knew howto keep them alive."
FOOTNOTES:
Footnote D: Water-soldier--_Stratiotes aloides._ A handsome and rareplant, of aloe-like appearance, with a white blossom rising in thecentre of its sword-leaves.
Brothers of Pity and Other Tales of Beasts and Men Page 16