Natural History, Fishes/Fishes
NATURAL HISTORY.
FISHES.
The Class of Fishes possesses a greater number of known species than any other of the primary divisions of Vertebrate animals; perhaps, indeed, when we consider the ratio which water bears to land on the surface of our globe, and the peculiar difficulties which attend the study of these animals, it may not be extravagant to suppose that the species of Fishes exceed in number those of Mammalia, Birds, and Reptiles put together. The number of individuals, also, composing the different species, in general, much exceeds the average as found in the other Classes, arising as well from the extent and depth of the element which they inhabit, as from their astonishing fecundity. The eggs of a bird are reckoned numerous when they amount to a score, but the eggs of fishes are commonly counted by thousands, and in some cases even by millions! In the ovary of a Cod, nine million eggs have been ascertained to exist, and Mr. Jesse asserts that "the ovary of one female Salmon will produce twenty million eggs." When we add that fishes yield an immense quantity of agreeable and wholesome food to man, both in a fresh and salted state, and that they afford constant employment for millions of capital, fleets of shipping, and almost the whole population of large and numerous districts, it will be seen that this Class is not devoid of high interest, though, as compared with other animals, little is known of those details of manners and instincts, which constitute so large a part of the charm of Natural History.
Fishes are, for the most part, cold-blooded animals; their heart consists of but one auricle and one ventricle, which receive the blood from the veins, and send it to the gills for renewal; it is thence circulated through the body in arteries, aided by the contraction of the surrounding muscular fibres. The gills are organs for respiration analogous to the lungs of terrestrial animals, calculated to extract the oxygen needful for the renewal of the blood from the air contained in the water, not, as has been frequently supposed, by the decomposition of water itself. The apparatus is double, placed on each side of the neck, and, in its most common form, consists of several series of membranous plates, fixed on slender arches of bone. Over these plates, innumerable blood-vessels ramify, whose walls are so thin as to permit the fluid contained in them to absorb the oxygen with which they are thus brought into contact. In order to carry off the water when deprived of its oxygen, and to bring fresh portions in succession to be respired, a constant current is produced over the surface of the gills, by the fish taking in the water at the mouth, and ejecting it on each side, behind the gills, through orifices for the purpose, called the gill-openings. The breathing apparatus is protected by large bony plates.
In most of the Bony Fishes there is found a membranous bladder, commonly of a lengthened form, placed along the body between the spine and the bowels. It is filled with air, and is well-known as the air-bladder, or swimming-bladder. It varies in appearance; sometimes, as in the Hedgehog-fishes (Diodon), and their allies, it is two-lobed, more rarely it is double; in some genera, as in the Electric Eels, and the Carp family, it is divided by a transverse partition, which, in the latter, allows of intercommunication through a narrow orifice. In one of the Catfish family (Pangasius) it is divided into four compartments. In many species there are closed or blind tubular processes sent off from various parts of the surface; and in others it is subdivided into many irregular cells. From this structure it appears evident that the air-bladder is the lingering remnant of the lungs of air-breathing animals.
In some instances this bladder is found to be connected with the organs of hearing; but its chief function is the regulation of the specific gravity of the animal, aiding it in rising or sinking in the water, or maintaining any particular depth that its exigencies may require. In general, those species that swim at the surface, or that rove freely through the water, are furnished with this organ, while deep-water fishes are destitute of it; but there are many unaccountable exceptions. The air contained is found to vary in its character; but in marine fishes oxygen preponderates, while in those of fresh-water, it is largely, or wholly composed of nitrogen.
The following fact recorded by Mr. Jesse shows that the possession of an air-bladder may, under some circumstances, expose fishes to danger.
“On the 9th, 10th, and 11th days of April, 1837, a friend of mine, then residing at Hastings, observed several fish floating on the surface of the water, and men and boys wading in, and pulling them out, the fish apparently making no effort to escape. On inquiry, he found that they were all Gurnards, no other fish exhibiting this phenomenon at that time, although he was informed that, a few years before, some Conger Eels were, during severe weather, in the same predicament.
“Some of the fishermen attributed the helplessness of the Gurnards to the circumstance of their having been blinded by the cold. Others said, the fish mistook the flakes of snow, which fell on the surface of the sea, for insects; and that, by leaping up so constantly and eagerly, for the purpose of catching them, they at last ‘blew themselves;’ meaning, that they so distended the air-bladder, that it lost its elasticity, or power of contraction, and thus they became helpless. On inspecting a fish just caught, the eyes were perfect; but upon opening the abdomen, and removing the air-bladder, the latter was found extremely distended. It is probable that the Gurnards came into shallow water in search of food, and the shallow water being much colder than the deep water, the fish became so benumbed, that when they had once distended the air-bladder to mount to the surface, the muscles had not power to compress it, and hence they could not sink, and make off. It is, however, a curious subject for inquiry."[1]
The Diodon, as is well known, has the habit of inflating its body with air, and of floating helplessly in this condition at the surface; but in this case it appears that the air is not taken into the bladder, but into the huge stomach, filling the cavity of the abdomen.
"A Gold-fish, in a small fountain, in the grounds of a gentleman of my acquaintance, swam about for more than two months, with its belly upwards. It appeared perfectly healthy and lively. This change from the natural position of the fish was, probably, owing to an enlargement or defect in the air-bladder."[2]
In conformity with their structure, the sphere of activity of Fishes is the water. The Flying-fishes, and some of the Gurnards, are able to elevate themselves into the air, and to maintain their position there for a few seconds; and some of the Frog-fishes and Eels can crawl upon the exposed mud or sand, during the hours that intervene between the ebb and flow of the tide; but these exceptions scarcely break the universality of the law which confines Fishes to the water. There is, however, considerable diversity in the locality assigned to different species; some inhabit fresh-waters only, some only the sea; others are able to exist in both, either by periodical migration, or at pleasure. Of fresh-water Fishes, some inhabit large rivers, others small streams; rapid and sluggish waters have each charms for some: great inland lakes possess peculiar species, and some are found only in the deep ponds, or tarns, of mountain districts. Of Marine Fishes, some roam the wide ocean, some play around the coral islands of the tropics, others affect the mud, or the sands of the shallows; some linger near the estuaries of great rivers; others come in mighty armies around the coast at particular seasons, retiring again to the deep water in the offing; finally, some habitually keep near the surface, while others rarely rise from the vicinity of the bottom.
The form of a fish is that best calculated to facilitate its progression through a fluid medium. It is commonly that of a spindle, swelling in the middle, and tapering to each extremity. There are, it is true, many modifications of this form; some, as the Skates and Flat-fishes, are flattened horizontally; others vertically, as the Chætodons and the Dory; some are globose, as the Diodons and Sun-fishes; some are drawn out into a serpent-form, as the Eels and Lampreys; and some, as the Ribbon-fishes, resemble in length and thinness the fabrics from which they derive their name. Yet, in all these varieties the normal form may, without difficulty, be traced. The surface of the body is sometimes smooth, or covered with a slimy secretion; occasionally it is armed with bony plates, which are sometimes set with hard tubercles; in a few species the body is covered with spines, which are capable of being laid close to the body, or erected at will; but the general covering of the body forms scales, or rounded plates (apparently horny, but considered by Professor Owen to be more allied to bone), the front margins of which are imbedded in the skin, and the posterior margins are loose and commonly overlapping. "By maceration in water, scales exhibit a series of laminæ, the smallest in size having been the first produced; they resemble a cone, the apex of which is outwards, the smallest being in the centre; hence
SCALES OF FISHES.
the appearance of numerous concentric lines, all of the same shape, which mark the growth."[3]
Along each side, in most fishes, may be observed a line, known as the lateral line, formed by scales of peculiar form. They are commonly more bony than the other scales, and are pierced by a tubular orifice for the escape of a mucous secretion, which is poured out from glands beneath, and thus flows over the body for the double purpose of protecting the skin from the macerating influence of the surrounding water, and of diminishing friction in swimming.
The organs of motion in this Class are the fins. They generally take the form of a delicate membrane, more or less transparent, stretched over parallel or radiating rays. These rays are slender bones, sometimes consisting of a single piece, stiff and spinous; at other times composed of several pieces jointed together, and therefore flexible; the latter are frequently divided each into two or more branches at the tip. These characters of the fin-rays afford a ground for the division of one of the Sub-classes into Orders.
The fins of Fishes are of five kinds, and are designated according to their position, as pectoral, or breast-fins; ventral, or belly-fins; dorsal, or back-fins; anal, or vent-fins; and caudal, or tail-fins. The pectorals and ventrals are arranged in pairs, and correspond to the fore and hind limbs in other vertebrate animals; the pectorals, for instance, representing the wings of birds, the ventrals the feet. The other kinds have nothing corresponding to them in the other Classes, except it be the web-like expansion of skin that fringes the Newts, &c., or the cartilaginous dorsal in some of the Cetacea. The dorsal runs along the medial line of the back; it was formerly supposed to preserve the body in a perpendicular position in the water, but recent experiments have shown that it is not necessary for that object, though it may be accessory to it. Almost all fishes have this fin, and many have two; while a few, as the Haddock and Cod, have three dorsals. The anal fin corresponds to the dorsal, but is placed beneath the body, just behind the vent. The caudal is the most important fin of all, being the great organ of motion. It is the termination of the body, being expanded around the posterior extremity. In those fishes which are endowed with swiftness in swimming, the tail-fin is forked, each division being pointed, as are also the pectorals; while in those of sluggish habits, the caudal, as well as the pectorals, is commonly short, even, or rounded. It is by the force of the powerful strokes given obliquely right and left upon the water by this fin that the
HADDOCK.
fish is urged onward in swift swimming; the pectorals and ventrals seem little used to communicate motion, except it be in deliberate change of place, for very short distances, or for turning; their chief use seems to be that of balancing the body.
The bones are less dense and compact in their structure than those of the preceding Classes; yet in some of the Spiny-finned Fishes they possess much hardness. In one large division, including the Sharks and Rays, the skeleton is composed of gristle or cartilage instead of bone.
SKELETON OF HADDOCK.
The vertebræ, or joints of the spine, are excavated at each end in a conical cavity; the hollow thus formed between every joint and its neighbour is filled with a jelly-like substance, which is continuous through the whole spine, by means of a hole pierced through the centre of each vertebra. There is no true spinal marrow. In general, the tubular perforation is small, but in many of the Gristly Fishes it is of so great a diameter as to reduce the vertebræ to mere cartilaginous rings.
The vertebræ give origin to spinous processes, both above and below, for the attachment of muscles. Within the cavity of the belly the lower processes are wanting, and are replaced by lateral ones, to which the ribs are attached. These are commonly numerous, slender, flexible bones, each of which sends off a branch of almost equal length and tenuity; some species, as the Herring and Pilchard for example, have similar thread-like branches sent off from each of the vertebræ; so that the bodies of these fishes seem filled with long and slender bones.
The skull varies much in form in different tribes, but in general consists of pieces answering to those which compose the head of the other Vertebrata. Teeth are generally very numerous; and are found in almost every one of the bones that enter into the composition of the mouth, though not in all the species. They are generally simple spines, curved backwards, but innumerable modifications of this form occur. Thus the jaws of the deadly Shark are flat and lancet-like, the cutting edges being notched like a saw; the front teeth of the Flounder are compressed plates; some, as the Wrasse, have flat grinding teeth; others, as the Sheep's-head, have the grinding surface convex; and others, as the genus Chrysophrys, have convex teeth so numerous and so closely packed over a broad surface, as to resemble the paving-stones of a street. The beautiful Chætodons of warm climates, on the other hand, have teeth which resemble bristles, and these are set close together like the hairs of a brush; while the Perch of our own rivers have them still more slender, minute and numerous, so as to resemble the pile of velvet. Another of our well-known fishes, the bold and fierce Pike, is armed with teeth scarcely less formidable in size, form, and sharpness, than the canines of a carnivorous quadruped. In number also there is great variety. The Pike, the Perch, the Catfish, and many others, have their mouth crowded with innumerable teeth, while the Carp and the Roach have only a few strong teeth in the throat, and a single flat one above; and the Sturgeon, the Pipe-fish, and the Sandlance, are entirely toothless.
The blood, as already observed, commonly takes the temperature of the surrounding element; in some of the swift oceanic Fishes of the Mackerel family, however, such as the Tunny and the Bonito, the blood is found to be 10° higher than the temperature of the surface of the sea, even within the tropics: the flesh of these Fishes is dark and dense. The blood-disks are sometimes circular, sometimes oval; they are larger than those of Mammalia and Birds; smaller than those of Reptiles, and especially than those of Amphibia.
The brain is small, and is divided into a succession of lobes or ganglionic masses, "most of them exclusively appropriated to the function of a nerve of special sense." The senses are possessed probably in very different degrees. Touch is considered to be feebly exercised; but the thick and fleshy lips of the Wrasses, the whiplike filaments of the Anglers, the beards of the Cod and Barbel, and the long flexible fingers in the pectoral fins of the Gurnards may be the seats of special sensations of feeling. Taste is even still more dubious. The bony character of the mouth, and the manner in which the tongue is often covered with teeth, combine with the circumstance that the food is almost invariably swallowed whole the instant it is seized,—to forbid the supposition of acute taste.
The sense of smell is probably possessed in considerable perfection by Fishes. The olfactory nerves are very large, and distributed over a great extent of surface. Professor Owen concludes, from certain anatomical peculiarities, that some Fishes, as the Rays, which have the olfactory nerves greatly developed, "scent as well as smell; i.e., actively search for odoriferous impressions by rapidly changing the current of water through the olfactory sac."[4] Many observations of living Fishes concur with deductions from structure to prove the exercise of smell. A Pike was seen to approach a dead Fish, but when within a foot of it, turned away, as if he had then become aware of what was the fact, that his supposed prey was stale. Mr. Couch observed, in a Stickleback, kept in a glass vase, that the nostrils opened and closed simultaneously with the action of the gill covers, and felt convinced that the water was received and rejected for the purpose of sensation.[5] Mr. Jesse states that Fishes prefer paste and worms that have been prepared with particular perfumes.
No external ear, nor even an auditory orifice is detected in Fishes, yet there is a complex internal apparatus of large size, for the reception of sounds. In many species of bony Fishes there is a communication between the acoustic chamber and the air-bladder, of which we shall presently speak. Mr. Jesse has seen Fishes start at the report of a gun, when they could not see the flash; and several instances are on record of tame Fishes having been taught to come to the surface of the water at accustomed sounds.
From the density of the medium inhabited by Fishes, a large number of the rays of light are absorbed and lost in passing through it; hence their eyes are very large, to collect as many of the remaining rays as possible. The cornea is flat, but the crystalline lens is perfectly spherical; the latter is familiar in the form of a white globule in a boiled Fish, the transparency being destroyed by heat. The pupil is large, and the iris is almost motionless. Eyelids are not present; and as the surface of the eye is always
EYE OF SWORD-FISH. bathed by the surrounding water, there is no need for the secretion of tears.
The eyes of Fishes frequently reflect brilliant colours, red, orange, yellow, blue, and black, and not unfrequently display a pearly or metallic lustre, like that of gold or silver. These hues are due to a membrane called the choroid, spread around the back of the eye, composed largely of highly reflecting microscopic crystals. The eyes of some species gleam like those of quadrupeds.
In general the eyes are placed opposite each other on the two sides of the head, so as to look laterally, and (owing to the tapering of the head) a little forward. In some, however, especially such species as habitually live at the bottom, they are placed on the top of the head, and look vertically upwards. In one genus of Sharks, called, for this reason. Hammer-heads, the head is enormously widened, or lengthened sidewise, so as to present two long lateral processes, at the extremities of which are placed the eyes; the figure of the head bearing no small 
HEAD OF HAMMER-SHARK.resemblance to that of the hammer used in caulking ships.
Besides the senses which we have enumerated, which Fishes possess in common with other Vertebrata, there is another faculty with which some species are endowed, quite peculiar to this Class. It is the power of communicating electric shocks at will to other creatures. The Fishes most noted for this property are the Torpedo, occasionally found on our own shores, and the Gymnotus, or Electric Eel, of South America. The electric organs consist of numerous six-sided cells, at first sight apparently composed of a clear trembling jelly, but really containing a great number of delicate membranous plates, separated from each other by a glairy fluid. In the Torpedo the prisms are placed vertically, and form two masses, one on each side of the head; in the Gymnotus, they are horizontal, and form four such organs, one pair on each side of the body.
The effects of fear in changing the colour of the human hair are well authenticated; from the statement of a writer in the “New Sporting Magazine,” it would appear that Fishes may be subject to similar phenomena. “Into a pool of about four acres, partially surrounded with trees and terminating a range of other pools above, through which constantly ran a small and irregular supply of waste water, about thirty brace of perfectly healthy Trout were turned, varying from three quarters of a pound to a pound each, and taken from a neighbouring mill-pool. The pool into which the Trout were turned, in the month of August, contained a great quantity of Roach, some Carp, Tench, and Perch, all healthy and thriving Fish: but the Trout, when taken out during the summer, and the following season, seemed to have increased very little in weight. With the exception of one healthy Fish of three pounds, nearly all the others were found to be either entirely blind or partially so, and doubtless would soon have died of starvation, as they were black, thin, and poor beyond belief. Those which were not too far gone to recover, I turned into a neighbouring brook: but what could have caused this effect upon the Trout alone, when all the other kinds of Fish, upon being taken out of the same water, were healthy and in perfectly good condition, I am at a loss to imagine. In the early part of the following March, I caught one of these Trout of about two pounds, which I had the preceding summer turned into the brook; and although it was of a very good colour, silvery and bright, it did not appear to be well fed, though no defect in the eyes could be perceived. Doubting whether to kill it or turn it in again for another day, I placed it in a small hoop-net, while I tried for another Fish, and threw the net into the stream. After taking two smaller Trout in very good condition, I took up the net and was surprised to perceive this silvery bright Fish become perfectly black; so that but for its shape it could not have been known as a Trout. Trout when killed sometimes lose their colour; but here was a Fish which, but a few minutes before, was perfectly bright, and suddenly, while alive, had become totally discoloured and black in the water, though apparently uninjured in any way; and probably in a few minutes after being liberated, it would have regained its former beautiful hue."[6]
The food of Fishes is for the most part animal. Some browse the seaweeds that wave around the rocks of the coast, and others nibble the soft parts of fresh-water vegetation; but the great majority are carnivorous. The immense number and variety of soft-bodied animals that inhabit the sea, the Actiniæ, the Medusæ, the Annellida, and the naked Mollusca, afford food to multitudes; others are furnished with strong teeth to grind down the newly formed parts of coral, and devour the living polyps; and a large number feed greedily on Star-fishes, Crustacea, and the shelled Mollusca. In the fresh-waters, worms, leeches, and the larvæ of insects supply the appetite of many. But in addition to all these sources of supply. Fishes everywhere feed upon Fishes. The smaller are seized and devoured by those which are able to master them, and these again become the prey of their superiors; until every Fish sees in his fellow either a victim to be pursued and devoured, or an enemy to be avoided.
At first sight it seems a dreadful state of existence, this incessant preying of the stronger animals upon the weaker; and humbling indeed the contemplation of it should be to us, as a sad memento of sin; for surely death in this our world is the bitter fruit of human transgression. "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin." Yet the infliction is not to the animal creation an unmitigated evil. A far greater amount and variety of animal life is thus sustained than could be supported otherwise, and life to them is happiness. They have no terrors of futurity beyond death, and probably have little fear of death itself, beyond the habitual apprehension which prompts the exercise of caution and sagacity. Death is the pang of a moment, and is rather the termination of a pleasant active life, than an actual evil. The gradual exhaustion of strength by advancing age, or the dying of want from inability to procure the needful food, would be far more dreadful. Even the very exercise of the faculties arising from the present state of things,—the vigilance, the stratagems, the activity, the excitement involved in pursuit and attack on the one hand, and in escape or defence on the other, all are doubtless contributive to the relish of life, and to their consequent happiness. The poet's judgment is according to truth:
"Harsh seems the ordinance, that life by life
Should be sustain'd; and yet, when all must die,
And be like water spilt upon the ground,
Which none can gather up,—the speediest fate,
Though violent and terrible, is best.
O with what horrors would creation groan,
What agonies would ever be before us,—
Famine and pestilence, disease, despair,
Anguish and pain in every hideous shape,
Had all to wait the slow decay of Nature!
Life were a martyrdom of sympathy;
Death, lingering, raging, writhing, shrieking torture;
The grave would be abolished; this gay world,
A valley of dry bones, a Golgotha,
In which the living stumbled o'er the dead,
Till they could fall no more, and blind perdition
Swept frail mortality away for ever.
'Twas wisdom, mercy, goodness, that ordain'd
Life in such infinite profusion,—Death,
So sure, so prompt, so multiform, to those
That never sinn'd, that know not guilt, that fear
No wrath to come, and have no heaven to lose."[7]
The voracity of Fishes is very great; there seems no limit to their appetite but the actual capacity of their stomach. Mr. Jesse tells of a Pike, to which he "threw, one after the other, five Roach, each about four inches in length. He swallowed four of them, and kept the fifth in his mouth for about a quarter of an hour, when it also disappeared." Digestion, however, is very rapid in predatory fishes; in a few hours not a single bone remains in the stomach or intestines of a Fish that has been swallowed. Mr. Frazer, in his "History of the Salmon," says, that he has found seven small Fishes in a Grilse (or young Salmon) of three pounds and a-half, and several Herrings in the body of Salmon, and that the digestion was so rapid that fire or water could not consume them more quickly. A remarkable example of the voracity of these animals is mentioned in the following extract from a lecture delivered before the Zoological Society of Dublin by Dr. Houston.
"This preparation (for the fidelity of which I can vouch, as it belongs to the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, and which may be taken as a fair average specimen of a Fish's breakfast party, captured at an early hour of the morning) will serve as an illustration of the voraciousness of their habits. Here is the skeleton of a Frog-fish, two and a half feet in length, in the stomach of which is the skeleton of a Cod-fish two feet long, in whose stomach again are contained the skeletons of two Whitings of the ordinary size; in the stomach of each Whiting there lay numerous half-digested little fishes, which were too small and broken up to admit of preservation. The Frog-fish, with all these
FROG-FISH.
contents, was taken last summer by the fishermen, and offered for sale in the market, as an article of food, without any reference at all to the size of its stomach, which, to them, is an every-day appearance.”
The ferocity with which the Trout tyrannizes over his fellows of the finny race is illustrated by the following graphic delineation, communicated to the “New Sporting Magazine;” which is interesting also for its notice of the habits of another species, far inferior in bulk, but fully equal to the Trout in pugnacity. The scene is a little limpid rill that flows down the side of Cheviot, through Glendale, and loses itself in the sluggish Till.
"In the parching summer of 1826, I frequently retired with a book to a shady little retreat on the bank of this river, to spend a few hours in contemplative indolence, where, by a mill-dam fifty feet wide, with a sloping shore of fine sand receding into four feet depth of water, a little sort of fish-parlour was formed by a projecting willow, reaching several feet across the upper end. The spot I soon observed was tenanted by one large Trout, who played the tyrant to admiration,—saving that his sentences were always either annihilation or banishment, for there was no torture. When I sat quite still he did not appear to see me, and came so near that I could count the crimson speckles on his side, and see the inhalations and exhalations of his gills. The grace of his motions, when he moved from his station to see what was disturbing the surface of the water (a fly, or bit of palm-down), was beautifully contrasted with the violence with which he repelled every intruder upon his imperial territory. He flew at the victim like a bull-dog; but as I never saw him meet with his match, or one that would stand fight, I can form no opinion of his knight-errantry. He, however, allowed various sized Minnows to sport about the shore, his only food at this time appearing to be flies (who always fled at his approach to the shelter of the shore), and he did not condescend to eye these reserved victims of his appetite. This scene was repeated for many days together. But perhaps a more amusing one was that of a little Prickly-back [or Stickleback], a little knight armed cap-a-pie. This small savage lay closely concealed underneath a bit of black stick whenever the trout was in sight; but the moment he could venture out with safety, away he went right into the middle of a shoal of infant Minnows, enjoying the sunshine in this early period of their existence on a little sandbank scarcely covered with water; he turned them over right and left,—retired and charged,—and charged again, as far as I could judge, out of pure mischief, for he neither ate nor injured them. The only interval of ease enjoyed by these unfortunate infants was when Tyrant Trout came to digest what he had caught, or to take a short siesta: then Mr. Pricklyback lay like a slave in the presence of his master, until his turn of indemnity arrived."
One of our native fishes, thence called the Viviparous Blenny, produces its young alive, and able to provide for their own support. But, in general, the continuation of the race is effected among fishes by means of eggs, called in the aggregate, spawn; and, before it is excluded, roe. It is often deposited in the gravelly beds of rivers, the female ploughing up a shallow furrow or trench for its reception, either with her muzzle or her tail, and then covering it up again. Others deposit their spawn in the sandy shallows of the sea, or wind it among rocks, or lodge it in bunches of sea-weeds. In general, no parental care is displayed for the spawn after it has been deposited, but there are some interesting exceptions to the rule. Pennant states of the River Bullhead, that it deposits its spawn in a hole it forms in the gravel, and quits it with great reluctance. And this is confirmed by a correspondent of Mr. Yarrell, an excellent observer. He remarks that this same species “evinces a sort of parental affection for its ova, as a bird for its nest, returning quickly to
RIVER BULLHEAD.
the spot, and being unwilling to quit it when disturbed.”
According to Fabricius, the male Lump Sucker, a British fish of grotesque form, but of brilliant colours, keeps watch over the spawn when laid by the female, and defends it with the utmost courage. Even the ferocious and formidable Wolf-fish approaches the nest at the risk of his life, for the Sucker, though so much smaller, and far more feebly armed, is yet able to infix its teeth in its adversary's throat, and inflict a mortal wound. If driven away by man, he does not go far, but is continually looking back, and soon returns. Our own fishermen in some respects confirm this account, and add that the young, when hatched, attach themselves to the sides of their careful parent, who carries them into the security of deep water.[8]
The Pipe-fishes have a still more curious economy; for the male here acts as wet-nurse. He is provided with a pouch, like that of the Marsupial quadrupeds, into which he receives the spawn as it is deposited by his mate, and in which he carries it about until the young are hatched. But this is not all, for, as if to make the resemblance to the Marsupials complete, the young are in the habit of retiring for shelter into the parental pouch, for some time after they are able to leave it and roam at their own pleasure.
A species of Goby inhabiting the Mediterranean, is mentioned by Aristotle by the name of Phycis, as the only fish that makes a nest for the reception of its spawn. Modern naturalists confirm the accuracy (but not the exclusiveness) of the observation. The nest is composed of seaweeds and grass-wrack (Zostera); and the male guards the female during the act of spawning, and protects the young when developed.
Habits somewhat similar have been observed in certain species of the genus Callichthys, inhabiting the rivers of Demerara; one of which forms a nest of grass, another of leaves. These fishes are provincially known by the name of Hassars; the male and female remain by the nest till the young are hatched, with the solicitude of a hen guarding her eggs, and courageously attack any intruder. The negroes avail themselves of this boldness to capture them, for, on putting their hands into the water near the nest, and stirring it, the male Hassar, instead of retiring, springs furiously at the hand, and is easily seized.
Mr. Audubon has described, in his peculiarly graphic style, the nest-making habits and parental devotedness of a fish found in the rivers of North America, which he calls the Sunny, or Sun-perch, but which appears to be a small species of Labrus.
"The Sun-perch seems to give a decided preference to sandy, gravelly, or rocky beds of streams, avoiding those of which the bottom is muddy. At the period of depositing their eggs, this preference is still more apparent. The little creature is then seen swimming rapidly over shallows, the bed of which is mostly formed of fine gravel, when, after a while, it is observed to poise itself, and gradually sink to the bottom, where, with its fins, it pushes aside the sand to the extent of eight or ten inches, thus forming a circular cavity. In a few days, a little ridge is thus raised around, and in the cleared area the roe is deposited. By wading carefully over the extent of the place, a person may count forty, fifty, or more of these beds, some within a few feet of each other, and some several yards apart. Instead of abandoning its spawn, as others of the family are wont to do, this little fish keeps guard over it with all the care of a sitting bird. You observe it poised over the bed, watching the objects around. Should the rotten leaf of a tree, a piece of wood, or any other substance happen to be rolled over the border of the bed, the Sun-fish carefully removes it, holding the obnoxious matter in its mouth, and dropping it over the margin. Having many times witnessed this act of prudence and cleanliness in the little Sunny, and observed that at this period it will not seize on any kind of bait, I took it into my head one fair afternoon, to make a few experiments for the purpose of judging how its instinct or reason might induce it to act when disturbed or harassed.
"Provided with a fine fishing-line, and such insects as I knew were relished by this fish, I reached a sand-bar, covered by about one foot of water, where I had previously seen many deposits. Approaching the nearest to the shore with great care, I baited my hook with a living ground-worm, the greater part of which was left at liberty to writhe as it pleased, and throwing the line up the stream, managed it so that at last it passed over the border of the nest, where I allowed it to remain on the bottom. The fish, I perceived, had marked me, and as the worm intruded on his premises, he swam to the farther side, there poised himself for a few moments, then approached the worm and carried it in his mouth over the next side to me, with a care and gentleness so very remarkable, as to afford me much surprise. I repeated the experiment six or seven times, and always with the same result. Then, changing the bait, I employed a young Grasshopper, which I floated into the egg-bed. The insect was removed, as the worm had been, and two attempts to hook the fish were unsuccessful. I now threw my line with the hook bare, and managed as before. The Sunny appeared quite alarmed. It swam to one side, then to another, in rapid succession, and seemed to entertain a fear that the removal of the suspicious object might prove extremely dangerous to it. Yet it gradually approached the hook, took it delicately up, and the next instant dropped it over the edge of the bed.”[9]
Some other examples of parental care and fore-sight have been lately brought under the attention of naturalists, which will be noticed in the following pages. The subject is one of great interest, and would probably repay careful observation with many facts hitherto unsuspected in this extensive but comparatively little-known Class of Vertebrate animals.
Mr. Jesse, in his “Gleanings,” has given the following Table, showing the different degrees of fecundity in different species of Fishes.
| Name of Fish. | Weight of Fish. |
Weight of Spawn. |
Number of Eggs. |
|---|---|---|---|
Carp |
ozs. drs. 25.. 5 |
grs. |
205,109 |
| Cod | 12,540 | 3,686,760 | |
| Flounder | 24.. 4 | 2,200 | 1,357,400 |
| Herring | 5.. 10 | 480 | 36,960 |
| Mackerel | 18.. 0 | 1,22312 | 546,681 |
| Perch | 8.. 9 | 76512 | 28,323 |
| Pike | 56.. 4 | 5,10012 | 49,304 |
| Roach | 10.. 612 | 361 | 81,586 |
| Smelt | 2.. 0 | 14912 | 38,278 |
| Sole | 14.. 8 | 54212 | 100,362 |
| Tench | 40.. 0 | 383,252 |
Fishes are capable of feeling attachment for each other. The pleasing writer just cited, “once caught a female Pike during the spawning season, and nothing could drive the male away from the spot at which the female had disappeared, whom he had followed to the very edge of the water. A person who had kept two small fishes together in a glass, gave one of them away: the other refused to eat, and showed evident symptoms of unhappiness till his companion was restored to him."
The longevity of many fishes seems to be undoubted. Some well authenticated facts respecting Carp and some other domesticated species, go to prove that these have attained the age of a century. But the Pike seems to be still longer lived; one taken in Prussia in 1754 bore a ring which testified its having been put into the pond 267 years before: how old it was at that time was of course unknown. "Cartilaginous Fishes," observes Mr. Swainson, "from the nature of their bones, continue to grow all their lives; and as many of these, particularly the Rays, habitually live in the deep recesses of the ocean, and thus seldom run the risk of being captured by man, we may probably attribute their enormous and almost incredible size to their great age."[10]
The increase in size of other Fishes seems to have no definite limit, but proceeds during their whole life; their bodies instead of experiencing the rigidity of age, which appears to be the common cause of natural decay in terrestrial animals, maintain the elasticity of their parts undiminished; while as they increase in size and strength, they become more and more able to obtain and overcome their prey, and to defy their enemies. Hence probably it is a rare thing for a fish to die of natural decay; yet, when we consider the incessant warfare that exists among the races, and the indefatigable assaults committed by man upon them, it is probable that the actual average of life among Fishes is of comparatively short duration.
Tenacity of life must be distinguished from its durability. In this property much difference is found amongst fishes. Mr. Yarrell observes that those species which swim near the surface of the water, have a high standard of respiration, a low degree of muscular irritability, great necessity for oxygen, die soon—almost immediately on being taken out of the water—and have flesh prone to rapid decomposition; of these, Mackerel, Salmon, Trout, and Herrings are examples. On the contrary, those that live near the bottom have a low standard of respiration, a high degree of muscular irritability, and less necessity for oxygen: these sustain life long after they are taken out of the water, and their flesh remains good for several days: Carp, Tench, Eels, the different sorts of Skate, and all the Flat-fishes are examples of this class. Some species, as the Eels and the Ophiocephali, continue to exhibit vigorous tokens of life, under inflictions that would be fatal to most other animals; the removal of the skin, and even the division of the body into pieces, not immediately producing death.
The power of sustaining extremes of temperature, found in this Class of animals, may perhaps be considered an indication of their low place in the scale of organization. Broussonet found, by experiments, that several species of freshwater Fishes lived many days in water so hot that the hand could not be held in it a single minute. Saussure found living Eels in the hot springs of Aise in Savoy, in which the temperature is pretty regularly 113° Fahr. But these cases yield in wonder to that recorded by Humboldt and Bonpland, who saw living Fishes, apparently in health and vigour, thrown up from the bottom of a volcano, with water and hot vapour that raised the thermometer to 210° Fahr.; a heat only 2° less than that of boiling water.
On the other hand, the cold of freezing does not always destroy the life of Fishes. In the north of Europe, Eels and Perch are conveyed from place to place in a frozen state, which revive on being thawed. The Grey Sucking Carp of North America, according to Dr. Richardson, may be treated in the same way. Mr. Jesse tells us that a friend of his had a Goldfish frozen with the water in a vase into a solid body of ice. He broke the ice around it, took it out, and found it to all appearance lifeless, and looking perfectly crystallized. Having left it in a warm room, after a few hours he found the ice thawed and the fish moving. In a little while it was as lively as usual. In such cases, "the fins quiver, the fish gradually turns itself on its belly, and moves slowly round the vessel; till, at length, completely revived, it swims briskly about."
We have briefly alluded to the value of Fishes as human food, a value which was appreciated in very early times. In the distinctions of clean and unclean meats imposed by the Law of Moses, Fishes are allowed to be eaten;—"whatsoever hath fins and scales in the waters, in the seas, and in the rivers, them shall ye eat." Still earlier 
EGYPTIAN DRAG-NET.
than this, the paintings which so copiously illustrate the manners of the ancient Egyptians, combine with the Holy Scriptures, to prove the fact that fish, both in a fresh and salted state, formed a large part of the food of that industrious people. "We remember," said the murmuring children of Israel, "the fish which we did eat in Egypt freely."
Among all nations, savage and civilized, the taking of Fishes has formed a prominent part of the occupation of man, and various stratagems and contrivances have been invented to facilitate the pursuit. The principal of these are the net, the spear, and the hook.
The first of these implements attacks the finny tenants of the waters in large numbers, and is rendered particularly effective from the fact that many of the most valuable Fishes have the habit of herding together in shoals. The engraving, copied from an Egyptian sepulchre, represents a very ancient form of drag-net used in the Nile; the fishers are stationed in part on the bank of the river, and in part on board of their fishing-boat, on the rigging of which the fishes are seen hanging up to dry for preservation.
Fishing by means of nets is frequently alluded to in the Scriptures, and in particular, it was the mode practised by several of the disciples of our blessed Lord, both before and after their sacred association with Him. The lovely Sea of Galilee often bore upon its waves the Son of Man, who, seated in the fishing-vessel of John or Simon, cheered their toil with His gracious words, as they launched out into the deep, and let down their nets for a draught.
Many are the varieties of this important accessory to human industry, the fishing-net; from the hoop-cast, which the fisher throws by hand over the surface-swimming fry to secure bait, to the elaborate tonnaro of the Italian shores, a mile in length. Most of those kinds, the pursuit of which is sufficiently important to be styled a fishery, are taken by nets of some kind or other. Thus on our own coasts, the Mackerel, the Herring, and the Pilchard, are taken chiefly by drift-nets, that is, nets of great length suspended perpendicularly from near the surface by a rope, to which corks are attached, and kept extended by a buoy, at one end; and by the fishing-boat riding on it, as if on her cable, at the other. The Sprat and the Whitebait are taken by bag-nets, shaped somewhat like a funnel, with a wide mouth, diminishing to a narrow hose at the extremity. The Sole and the Gurnards are captured by means of a trawl, a net of somewhat similar form, but fitted for dragging over the bottom; and the Salmon is taken in several sorts of nets, varying much from each other, and peculiar to this valuable fishery.
The spear is little used with us as a fishing implement. In the north of Scotland, however, it is employed to strike Salmon, as at Invermoriston, where a river flows in a narrow chasm between two projecting rocks. "The fisherman seats himself on a cleft of this rock, right over the cascade, with a spear in his hand, which has a line fixed to the upper end of the shaft, similar to the practice of fishing for Whales with harpoons. Whenever the Salmon makes a spring to gain the ascent over the cataract, the spearman strikes the fish and lets the shaft go, holding only by the line until the fish has exhausted his strength; then the spear and fish are thrown ashore by the stream, and taken out at the lower side of the pool."
In ancient Egypt a favourite mode of fishing was that performed with a bident, or two-pronged spear. Like angling, it seems to have been an amusement of the higher orders, who were accustomed to use a boat made of papyrus, "in which they glided smoothly over the lakes and canals within their own grounds, without disturbing the fish as they lay beneath the broad leaves of the lotus plant." "On these occasions they were usually accompanied by some of their children, and by one or two attendants, who assisted 
in securing the fish, and who, taking them off the barbed point of the spear, passed the stalk of a rush through the gills, in order more conveniently to carry them home." Such a party is graphically represented in the above engraving, which is a fac-simile of an ancient Egyptian painting. The fisher is spearing the Booltee (Labrus Niloticus), while other species of the same genus, and a Mormyrus (Scrophicephalus longipinnis, Sw.) are swimming beneath the boat, the latter easily recognisable by its lengthened snout.
Among barbarous tribes the fish-spear is a favourite instrument. The North American Indian watches at a hole in the ice, with which the surface of his mighty lakes are covered in autumn, and strikes the fishes that play beneath; or stations himself in summer in a rude frame over some narrow gorge, through which a torrent foams and roars, whence he spears the great lake-trout that are driven down by the rapids. In the South Sea Islands fishing with the barbed spear is a favourite amusement. Before the introduction of iron, the implement was made of hard wood; ten or twelve pointed pieces being fastened to the end of a pole eight feet long; but now iron heads are usually employed, barbed on one side. With these spears the natives proceed to the reef, and wade into the sea as high as their waists, their feet being defended from the sharp points of the coral, and the spines of the sea-urchins by sandals made of tough bark, twisted into cords. Stationing themselves near an opening in the rocks, they watch the motions of the fishes, as they shoot to and fro; and dart the spear, sometimes with one hand, but more commonly with both, frequently striking their prey with great dexterity.
The fishermen often pursue their avocation by night; sometimes in the dark, sometimes by moonlight, but more usually by torch-light. Their torches are either large bunches of dried reeds firmly tied together, or else are made of the candle-nut, which the natives use to light their houses.
These nocturnal fishing expeditions are described as producing a most picturesque effect. Large parties of men proceed to the reef, when the sea is comparatively smooth, and hunt the Totara, or Hedgehog-fish, probably a species of Diodon; and it is a beautiful and interesting spectacle, to behold a long line of reef illuminated by the flaming torches, the light from which glares redly upon the foaming surf without, and the calm lagoon within. Each fisherman holds his torch in his left hand high above his head, while he poises his spear in his right, and stands with statue-like stillness, watching the approach of the fish.
A similar mode of fishing is practised in the rivers, and though the circumstances are different the effect is not inferior. "Few scenes," says Mr. Ellis, "present a more striking and singular effect, than a band of natives walking along the shallow parts of the rocky sides of a river, elevating a torch with one hand and a spear in the other; while the glare of their torches is thrown upon the overhanging boughs, and reflected from the agitated surface of the stream. Their own bronze-coloured, and lightly clothed forms, partially illuminated, standing like figures in relief; while the whole scene appears in bright contrast with the deep and almost midnight gloom that envelopes every other object."[11]
The hook and line claim as great an antiquity as the other implements of the fisher's art. In that which has been considered the most ancient of all compositions, the Book of Job, the Almighty Lord of nature, in one of the sublime appeals wherewith He humbles his too confident servant, says, "Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down?" In the burden denounced against Egypt by the prophet Isaiah, "they that cast angle into the brooks" are alluded to, in association with those "that spread nets upon the waters." And though the disciples of our Lord seem chiefly to have used the net, they were familiar with the hook also; for when a single fish was required to furnish the tribute-stater, Peter was commanded by his Master to "go to the sea, and cast an hook." The Egyptian monuments are not wanting in pictorial representations of this art any more than of the others already alluded to; individuals being depicted in the very act of "casting angle into the brooks."
In our times the hook is extensively used, both by savage and civilized nations. In the beautiful islands that stud, as with clusters of gems, the broad bosom of the Pacific Ocean, around whose coasts Fishes of various species are peculiarly abundant, the ingenious and enterprising inhabitants have turned their attention to fishing with great success. Many artifices have been invented by them for this purpose, some of them most effective, which cannot be classed under either of the three heads which we have named, being neither net, spear, nor hook. The last-named, however, in some form or other, is the principal device employed, and, strange as it may appear, notwithstanding all the superiority in art, and all the advantage of metals possessed by Europeans, the native-made hooks are preferred, as far more effective than ours. Many of them are really beautiful productions, and, when we consider their total want of metallic tools, excite our astonishment at the skill and ingenuity of the manufacturers. Our hooks are all made on one pattern, however varying in size; but the forms of theirs are exceedingly various, and made of different substances, viz., wood, shell, and bone. "The hooks made with wood are curious; some are exceedingly small, not more than two or three inches in length, but remarkably strong; others are large. The wooden hooks are never barbed, but simply pointed, usually curved inwards at the point, but sometimes standing out very wide, occasionally armed at the point with a piece of bone. The best are hooks ingeniously made of the small roots of the aito-tree, or iron-wood (Casuarina). In selecting a root for this purpose, they choose one partially exposed, and growing by the side of a bank, preferring such as are free from knots and other excrescences. The root is twisted into the shape they wish the future hook to assume, and allowed to grow till it has reached a size large enough to allow of the outside or soft parts being removed, and a sufficiency remaining to form the hook. Some hooks thus prepared are not much thicker than a quill, and perhaps three or four inches in length. Those used in taking Sharks are formidable-looking weapons; some are a foot or fifteen inches long, exclusive of the curvatures, and not less than an inch in diameter. They are such frightful things, that no fish, less voracious than a Shark, would approach them. In some the marks of the Sharks teeth are numerous and deep, and indicate the effect with which they have been used."[12]
The accompanying engraving represents many forms of hooks made of all these materials, as well as a net, a barbed spear, and a line armed with Shark's teeth, all copied from specimens brought from the South Sea Islands, and deposited in the British Museum.
The most curious, as well as most serviceable hooks are made of the inner part of the shell of the Pearl-oyster, or rather large bivalves, the interior of which is pearly, called mother-of-pearl. These have great care and pains bestowed upon them: the smaller ones are cut almost circular, and made to resemble a worm, thus answering the purpose of bait as well as hook. A much larger kind is that used for the capture of the Albacore, Bonito, and Coryphene. The shank is about six inches in length, and nearly an inch in width, cut out of pearl-shell, in the shape of a small fish, and finely polished. The barb is formed separately; it is an inch and a half in length, and is firmly bound in its place by a bandage of fine flax. The line is fastened to this, and braided all along the curve of the hook, and again fastened at the head. Sometimes a number of long bristles are attached to the shell to mimic the appearance of the Flying-fish.
The line is affixed to the end of a long bamboo rod; and the anglers sitting in the stern of a light single canoe are rowed briskly over the waves. The rod is held so that the hook shall just skim the tops of the billows; the Albacore or Bonito, deceived by the resemblance, leaps after the fancied Flying-fish, and finds itself a prey. Twenty or thirty large fishes are occasionally taken by two men in this manner, in the course of a morning.
A still more ingenious mode of deception is practised upon these large Fishes, by employing a swift double canoe, from the bows of which projects into the air along curved pole resembling a crane. At some distance from the end, this divides into two branches, which diverge from each other. The foot is secured in a sort of socket between the two canoes, and is so managed
that the ends of the pole are capable of being lowered or elevated by a rope, which proceeds from the fork. A man sits in the high stern, holding this rope in his hand, and watching the capture of the fishes. From the end of each projecting arm depends the line, with the pearl-hook fashioned to resemble the Flying-fish. To increase the deception, bunches of feathers are fastened to the tips of the arms, to represent those aquatic birds which habitually follow the Flying-fish in its course, to seize it in the air. The presence of these birds is so sure an indication of the position of the fish, that the fishermen hasten to the spot where they are seen hovering in the air. The canoe skims rapidly along, rising and falling on the waves, by which a similar motion is communicated to the hook, which skips along, sometimes out and sometimes in the water, while the plumes of feathers flutter immediately above. The artifice rarely fails to succeed; if the Bonito perceives the hook, he instantly engages in pursuit, and if he misses his grasp, perseveres until he has seized it. The moment the man in the stern perceives the capture, he hoists the crane, and the fish is dragged in, and thrown into a sort of long basket, suspended between the two canoes. The crane is then lowered again, and all is ready for another candidate.[13]
The use of the hook and line with us may be considered as divided into two branches; in the one these implements are employed as a trade, in the other as a sport. Several of our valuable fisheries are carried on almost exclusively with the hook; for example, Cod, Haddock, Whiting, Hake, Ling, Coalfish, Pollock, and other Fishes, all belonging to the great and important Cod family (Gadidæ), are taken in this manner, as well as the Turbot, Plaice, Flounder, and most other Flat-fish (Pleuronectidæ). There are two modes of line-fishing, neither of which requires the use of a rod. The first is by long lines, deep sea-lines, or bulters, as they are variously called, consisting of a strong line of great length, with an anchor at one end and a buoy-rope at the other. At regular distances along the length of this line, short lines, called snoods, are placed, each of which carries a baited hook. The long-line is shot across the tide and allowed to sink to the bottom, and hauled up to be examined after the lapse of a tide, or six hours.
The second method is by hand-lines; where the fisherman carries a line in each hand, each line armed with two hooks kept apart by a strong wire; a leaden weight is employed to sink the hooks, as these fishes feed near the bottom; and he continually tries with his hands whether he has hooked a fish. For Cod-fish, when bait is scarce, it is dispensed with by the use of an instrument, called a jigger, consisting of two large hooks soldered together in the shanks by means of lead, which is made to assume the size and form of a small fish; the points of the hooks are turned in opposite directions. This double hook is dropped without bait, and is continually moved up and down by jerks. The shining lead attracts many Cods, so that the jigging is almost sure to hook many of the fish in succession, and sometimes even two at once. Of course they are often sadly lacerated, and as the hooks frequently break out, the fish escapes in a wounded condition, and this is thought to have a tendency to drive the shoals from the ground.
The capture of fishes for amusement, so much practised in this country, is called Angling; and calling into action, as it does, skill and dexterity, as well as knowledge derived from experience and tradition, and embracing many rules embodied in treatises of acknowledged authority, is by some elevated to the rank of a science. It has been said that angling is pre-eminently an English amusement. "The inhabitants of the British isles alone, with their colonial descendants, cultivate all matters pertaining to rural sports, of whatsoever kind they may be, but particularly hunting, shooting, and angling, with that persevering ardour, comprising active practice, and passionate study, which leads to perfection. In their efforts to acquire the surest, most amusing, most health-giving, and, I may say, most elegant modes of pursuing and capturing their game, be it the produce of field or flood, they call to their aid several auxiliary studies, amongst which stands prominent one of the pleasantest of all, viz., that of the natural history of animals, and of other things ranking not so high in the scale of creation."[14]
Angling may be considered as divided into three branches, which rise above each other in the skill required for their successful conduct, and therefore in the estimation of those who practise them. All require for their performance the use of a rod, a line, a hook, and a bait. The first is bottom-fishing, which nearly resembles that mode of sea-fishing with the handline, which we have just described. It consists of angling near the bottom of the water, with worms, gentles, bread, paste, and other animate and inanimate baits; it is the simplest, most common, and most primitive mode of angling, "first learned, and last forgotten."
Trolling is more difficult. It is performed in mid-water, that is, neither at the surface, like fly-fishing, nor at the bottom, as the preceding kind. More than one hook is required, and sometimes these are united into an implement of ingenious construction. A minute fish is the common bait, which is affixed to the hooks in a living state, and in such a manner as not to do it vital injury; but well-formed imitations, made of metal, or cut-glass, are substituted with success by those who have scruples about impaling the little minnow or dace. The bait, whether living or artificial, is sometimes affixed to the line by a swivel, and a bend being given to the tail, it is made to revolve rapidly on its long axis when drawn through the water. This spinning motion is very attractive to fish of prey, which eagerly pursue the dazzling object that seems to flee from them. Large Perch, Pike, and Trout, are taken by spinning. It is much used on the Continent by English travellers, as well as in the United States, and in Canada. All the large Thames Trout are taken with spinning-tackle.
But the perfection of angling is fly-fishing, which is performed at the surface of the water, the baits being in general artificial imitations of the various flies which flit about the surface, and attract the fish to leap up at them. The greatest skill is put in requisition to throw the bait so that it shall fall on the surface with the light elastic touch of the natural fly alighting, and shall imitate its fitful motions so perfectly as to deceive the practised eye of the wary and experienced Salmon or Trout beneath. "Other sports," says a master in the art, "may be more exciting than artificial fly-fishing, but there is not one requiring more skill, or calling into exercise more intelligence and adroitness of mind and body. A quick eye, a ready and delicate hand, an apprehensive brain, delicacy in the senses of touch and hearing, activity of limb, physical endurance, persevering control over impatience, vigilant watchfulness, are qualifications necessary to form the fly-fisher. His amusing and chanceful struggles, teeming with varying excitement, are with the strongest, the most active, the most courageous, the most beautiful, and the most valuable of river fish; and his instruments of victory are formed of materials so slight, and some of them so frail,—they are beautiful as well,—that all the delicacy and cunning resources of art, are requisite to enable feebleness to overcome force. The large, vigorous, nervous Salmon, of amazing strength and wonderful agility; the rapid Trout, of darting velocity, hardy, active, untiring—whose dying flurry shows almost indomitable resistance—are hooked, held in, wearied out, by the skilful and delicate management of tackle that would, if rudely handled, be bent and strained by the strength and weight of a Minnow. 'Tis wonderful to see hooks of Lilliputian dimensions, gut finer than hair, and a rod, some of whose wooden joints are little thicker than a crow's quill, employed in the capture of the very strongest of river fish. The marvel lies in the triumph of art over brute force. If the sporting gear of the fly-fisher were not managed with art, on the mathematical principles of leverage, he could not, by its means, lift from the ground more than a minute fraction of the dead weight of that living, bounding, rushing fish, which he tires to death, nay drowns, in its own element. The overcoming of difficulties by the suaviter in modo forms one of the greatest charms of fly-fishing, and to my fancy is the pleasantest element of success that can be used in any pursuit."[15]
The scenes in which the angler pursues his pleasant avocations are among the most delightful that Nature yields. The broad river, meandering through the meadows, here and there widening into calm and placid pools, that reflect in mirror-like perfectness the pollard-willows on the bank, and allow the eye to trace without difficulty the ruby-finned Roach and Perch, the gleaming Chub, and the speckled Trout, as they play or dart through the crystal element, cannot but be delightful; especially at that sweet season when spring is just maturing into summer, when the turf is full of scented flowers, the groves and hedges, dressed in the freshest livery of yellow-green, are pouring forth wild gushes of melody from a thousand throats, and myriads of painted flies and humming insects are enlivening the scene around. Here the bottom-fisher delights to station himself, quietly and patiently pursuing his sport until his pannier is full, or his leisure exhausted. And in such peaceful streams the more presumptuous troller spins his minnow, and calls his strength of limb and agility into exercise, as he drags from his hole the ferocious Pike.
But the fly-fisher resorts to widely different scenes. The swift torrent that pours down the mountain side, or roars along the narrow and frowning ravine; that here chafes and boils between moss-covered rocks, and there dashes over a rocky ledge in a sheet of foam; now forms a chain of deep pools, or rather holes, black from their very depth, and now rattles the pebbles over the shallow bottom with a hoarse, but not unpleasing music,—presents the prey that form his prizes. The scenery is wild and magnificent. The lofty mountain has to be climbed, often, it is true, with weary feet; but the air is fresh and invigorating, every step, as he rises higher and higher, makes him tread more proudly; the heather is soft and elastic, and its purple bloom is both beautiful and fragrant; and what a prospect does the summit reveal! He looks abroad over many leagues of country, all varied with hill and dale; he sees villages and towns, fields and woods, lakes and winding rivers, spread out like a map at his feet. Beneath, perhaps, he sees a yawning chasm of a thousand feet, at the bottom of which sleeps the unruffled tarn, with waters as black as ink to the beholder, yet of crystal clearness when examined in a glass, in which the crimson Charr play. The mountains, peak above peak, many of them crowned with caps of snow, stretch away in the distance, among which, like threads of burnished silver, gleam the little rivulets which the fly-fisher is seeking.
The Salmon, the various species of Trout, some of them little inferior in magnitude or strength to that kingly fish; the brilliant Grayling, with his dorsal like a butterfly's wing, and the Charr, with its refulgent sides, "the aristocracy of the finny race," inhabit these elevated streams and lakes; and for these does the enterprising fly-fisher visit the most remote and least accessible parts of our country. When we reflect that the first of these attains the weight of forty, fifty, sixty, and even seventy pounds, and that Salmon of this weight yield to the skilful angler, "with a diminutive artificial fly, a thin silkworm-gut line, and a rod of pieces lighter and more limber than a lady's riding wand," we may well say that the fly-fishing art is one fully worthy of the sportsman's enthusiasm.
The charges of cruelty and frivolity have been often brought against angling by those who have taken no interest in its gentle excitement. From the former we fear it cannot entirely be cleared, at least so long as living vertebrate animals, whether frog, fish, or mouse, are used as bait. But adepts in the art have maintained that these are not necessary, mimic representations being made sufficiently true, to answer every purpose of the troller. The accusation of frivolity seems no more applicable to this than to any other recreation, while it has recommendations peculiarly its own. A host of brilliant names might be cited among the lovers of angling, especially of its highest branch, fly-fishing. To one of these we shall confide its defence, himself an able master of the art, and a pleasing describer of its charms.
"The search after food," remarks Sir Humphrey Davy, "is an instinct belonging to our nature; and, from the savage in his rudest and most primitive state, who destroys a piece of game or a fish with club or spear, to man in the most cultivated state of society, who employs artifice, machinery, and the resources of various other animals, to secure his object, the origin of the pleasure is similar, and its object the same. That kind of skill, however, which requires most art, may be said to characterize man in his highest or intellectual state; and he who fishes for Salmon and Trout with the fly, employs, not only machinery to assist his physical powers, but applies sagacity to conquer difficulties: the pleasure derived from ingenious resources and devices, as well as from active pursuit, belongs to this amusement. Then, as to its philosophical tendency, it is a pursuit of moral discipline, requiring patience, forbearance, and command of temper. As connected with natural science, it may be vaunted as demanding a knowledge of the habits of a considerable tribe of created beings,—fishes and the animals they prey upon,—and an acquaintance with the signs and tokens of the weather and its changes,—and of the nature of waters and of the atmosphere.
"As to its poetical relations, it carries us into the most wild and beautiful scenery of nature; amongst the mountain-lakes, and the clear and lovely streams that gush from the higher ranges of elevated hills. How delightful is the early spring, after the dull and tedious time of winter, when the frosts disappear, and the sunshine warms the earth and waters, to wander forth by some clear stream, to see the leaf bursting from the purple bud, to scent the odours of the bank perfumed by the violet, and, enamelled, as it were, with the primrose and the daisy. To wander upon the fresh turf below the shade of trees, whose bright blossoms are filled with the music of the bee, and on the surface of the waters to view the gaudy flies sparkling like animated gems in the sunbeams, whilst the bright and beautiful Trout is watching for them below; to hear the twittering of the water-birds, who, alarmed at your approach, rapidly hide themselves beneath the flowers and leaves of the water-lily; and, as the season advances, to find all these objects changed for others of the same kind, but better and brighter, till the Swallow and the Trout contend, as it were, for the gaudy May-fly, and till, in pursuing your amusement in the calm and balmy evening, you are serenaded by the songs of the cheerful Thrush and melodious Nightingale, performing the offices of paternal love, in thickets ornamented with the rose and woodbine."[16]
THE ANGLER'S SONG.
Merry in the greenwood is the note of horn and hound,
And dull must be the heart of him that leaps not to their sound;
Merry from the stubble whirrs the partridge on her wing,
And blithely doth the hare from her shady cover spring:
But merrier than horn or hound, or stubble's rapid pride,
Is the sport, that we court, by the gentle river side.
Our art can tell the insect tribe that every month doth bring,
And with a curious wile we know to mock its gauzy wing;
We know what breeze will bid the Trout through the curling waters leap,
And we can surely win him from shallow or from deep;
For every cunning fish can we a cunning bait provide,
In the sport, that we court, by the gentle river side.
Where may we find the music like the music of the stream?
What diamond like the glances of its ever-changing gleam?
What couch so soft as mossy banks, where through the noontide hours
Our dreamy heads are pillowed on a hundred simple flowers?
While through the crystal stream beneath Ave mark the fishes glide,
To the sport, that we court, by the gentle river side.
For us the lark with upland voice the early sun doth greet;
And the nightingale from shadowy boughs her vesper hymn repeat;
For us the pattering shower on the meadow doth descend;
And for us the flitting clouds with the sudden sunbeams blend:
All beauty, joy, and harmony, from morn to eventide,
Bless the sport, that we court, by the gentle river side.[17]
In the classification of the very numerous species of Fishes now known to naturalists, the system of Cuvier is generally adopted, either with or without modification in the subordinate divisions. One of the most recent arrangements is that of the Prince of Canino, who, taking the system of Cuvier as the basis, has made some improvements in the distribution of the Families.[18] The knowledge, skill, and erudition of this eminent zoologist are universally acknowledged; and in these pages, we propose to adhere to his arrangement.
We divide the Class Pisces (Fishes) into four Orders, Acanthopterygii, Malacopterygii, Plectognathi, and Cartilaginei.
- ↑ Jesse's Scenes of Country Life, 353.
- ↑ Ibid. 356.
- ↑ Yarrell, British Fishes, Introd. xii.
- ↑ Comparative Anatomy, ii. 202.
- ↑ Yarrell, British Fishes, Introd. xix.
- ↑ New Sporting Magazine, N.S. i. 404.
- ↑ Montgomery's "Pelican Island."
- ↑ Yarrell, British Fishes, ii, 367.
- ↑ Orn. Biog. iii. 50.
- ↑ Classification of Fishes, i. 48.
- ↑ Polynesian Researches, i. 150.
- ↑ Ellis.
- ↑ "The Ocean."
- ↑ Ephemera on Angling, p. 6.
- ↑ Ephemera on Angling, p. 6.
- ↑ Salmonia, p. 8.
- ↑ New Sporting Mag. v. 20.
- ↑ This learned zoologist has during the present year (1850) published another system of Fishes, in which he has greatly multiplied the number of the Families; but we prefer in this volume to adhere to his former arrangement. We shall, however, make use of this later publication, at least in estimating the number of species belonging to the different genera and families.