560 THE PORTUGUESE MAN-OF-WAR. 
curious inhabitants of the ocean, and devours the whole body with the exception of the firm 
cartilaginous plates. 
A conspicuous member of this class of animals is the celebrated Porruagursk MAN-oOF- 
War (Physalis pelagicus). 
This beautiful but most formidable acaleph is found in all the tropical seas, and never 
fails to attract the attention of those who see it for the first time. The general shape of this 
remarkable being is a bubble-like envelope filled with air, upon which is a membranous crest, 
and which has a number of long tentacles hanging from one end. 
These tentacles can be protruded or withdrawn at will, and sometimes reach a consider 
able length. They are of different shapes, some being short, and only measuring a few inches 
in length, while the seven or eight central tentacles will extend to a distance of several feet. 
These long tentacles are most formidably armed with stinging tentacles, too minute to be 
seen with the naked eye, but possessing venomous powers even more noxious than those of 
the common nettle. ‘It is in these appendages alone,” writes Mr. D. Bennett, ‘‘ that the 
stinging property of the Physalis resides. Every other part of the mollusk may be touched 
with impunity, but the slightest contact of the hand with the cables produces a sensation 
as painful and protracted as the stinging of nettles ; while, like the effect of that vegetable 
poison, the skin of the injured part often presents a white elevation or wheal. 
‘*Nor is the inconvenience confined to the hand; a dull aching pain usually proceeds up 
the arm and shoulder, and even extends to the muscles of the chest, producing an unpleasant 
feeling of anxiety and difficulty in respiration. Washing the injured part with water rather 
ageravates than relieves the pain, which is best remedied by friction with olive oil. The 
cables retain their urent property long after they have been detached from the animal, and 
their viscid secretion when received ona cloth retains the same virulent principle for many 
days, and communicates it to other objects.” 
It is most probable that these terrible appendages are employed for the purpose of 
procuring food, and that they serve to entangle and kill the creatures on which the Physalis 
lives. Several of these acalephs have been observed with the bodies of half decomposed fishes 
entangled among the short tentacles. 
The colors of the Physalis are always beautiful, and slightly variable, both in tint and 
intensity. The delicate pink crest can be elevated or depressed at will, and is beautifully 
transparent, grooved vertically throughout its length. The general hue of its body is blue, 
taking a very deep tint at the pointed end, and fading into softer hues towards the tentacles. 
A general iridescence, however, plays over the body, which seems in certain lights to be 
formed of topaz, sapphire, or aquamarine. The short fringes are beautifully colored, the 
inner row being deep purple, and the outer row glowing crimson, as if formed of living 
carbuncle. The larger tentacles are nearly colorless, but are banded at very small intervals 
throughout their length, giving them the appearance of being jointed. 
It is a common trick with sailors to induce a “green hand” to pick up a floating 
Physalis, and to make him buy a rather dear experience at the cost of several hours’ smart. 
The vesicular body seems to be permanently filled with air, the animal having no power of 
inflating or collapsing at will. Many of these beings may be found on the sea-shore, where 
they have been flung by a tempest, the tentacles all decayed, but the body still inflated 
with air. 
This is one of the most familiar objects seen in tropical waters, and it is one of the most 
beautiful. A thin, bubble-like, pear-shaped float rests upon the water, colored a brilliant 
indigo shading to pink. Along its upper crest is a narrow ruffle of silvery-white. Delicate 
in the extreme is this gorgeous bubble. But on the under side, hanging in the water, is 
a jelly-like mass of flesh, from which depend in coils, of several feet in length, the tentacular 
organs. So low is this creature in the scale of life, it has no propelling power. The little 
sail-like ruffle along the erest of the bladder catches the breeze, and the tiny ship seems to sail 
before it. The adult length is about nine inches. Often these creatures are seen in great 
numbers, bedecking the ocean far and wide with their richly-colored floats. 
