The spines of these sea-urchins make slate-pencils in some of the islands, and are excellent for hastily writing on a nearby cliff a message to a friend who is following tardily.  The creatures are poisonous when alive, however, and revenge a blow of careless hand or foot by wounds that are long in healing.

We found lobsters among the rocks, too, and on some beaches a strange kind of lobsterish delicacy called in Tahiti varo, a kind of mantis-shrimp that looks like a superlatively villainous centipede.  They grow from six to twelve inches long and a couple of inches wide, with legs or feelers all along their sides, like the teeth of a pocket-comb.  Their shells are translucent yellow with black markings; the female wears a red stripe down her back and carries red eggs beneath her.  Both she and her mate, with their thousand crawling legs, their hideous heads and tails, have a most repulsive appearance.  If one did not know they are excellent food and most innocent in their habits, one would flee precipitately at sight of them.

Catching the varo is a delicate and skilful art.  They live in the shallows near the beach, digging their holes in the sand under two or three feet of water.  When the wind ruffles the surface, it is impossible to see the holes, but on calm days we waded knee-deep in the clear water, stepping carefully and peering intently for the homes of the sea-centipede.  Finding one, we cautiously lowered into the hole a spool fitted with a dozen hooks.

A pair of the creatures inhabits the same den.  If the male was at home, he seized the grapnel and was quickly lifted and captured, the hooks being lowered again for the female.  But if the female emerged first, it was a sure sign that her mate was absent.

I pondered as to this habit of the varo, and would have liked to persuade me that the male, being a courteous shrimp, combatted the invading hooks first in an effort to protect his mate.  But the grapnel is baited with fish, and though masculine pride could wish that chivalry urged the creature to defend his domestic shrine, it appears regrettably certain that he is merely after the bait, to which he clings with such selfish obstinacy that he sacrifices his liberty and his life.  However, the lady soon shows the same grasping tendency, and their deserted tenement is filled by the shifting sands.

Catching varo calls for much patience and dexterity.  I never succeeded in landing one, but Teata would often skip back to the sands of the beach with a string of them.  Six would make a good meal, with bread and wine, and they are most enjoyable hot, though also most dangerous.

“Begin their eating by sucking one cold,” warned Exploding Eggs when presiding over my first feast upon the twelve-inch centipedes.  “If he does not grip you inwardly, you may then eat them hot and in great numbers.”