that lean and depauperated state which makes a "shotten herring" proverbial. In this condition it answers to the salmon "kelt," and the milt or roe are now shrunk and flaccid and can be blown up with air like empty bags. If the spent fish escapes its myriad enemies, it doubtless begins to feed again and once more passes into the matie state in preparation for the next breeding-season. But the nature of this process of recuperation has yet to be investigated.
When they have reached the matie stage, the herrings, which are at all times gregarious, associate together in conspicuous assemblages, which are called shoals. These are sometimes of prodigious extent—indeed, eight or nine miles in length, two or three in breadth, with an unknown depth, are dimensions which are credibly asserted to be sometimes attained. In these shoals the fish are closely packed, like a flock of sheep straying slowly along a pasture, and it is probably quite safe to assume that there is at least one fish for every cubic foot of water occupied by the shoal. If this be so, every square mile of such a shoal, supposing it to be three fathoms deep, must contain more than 500,000,000 herrings. And when it is considered that many shoals approach the coasts, not only of our own islands, but of Scandinavia and the Baltic, and of Eastern North America, every spring and autumn, the sum total of the herrings which people our seas surpasses imagination.
If you read any old and some new books on the natural history of the herring, you will find a wonderful story about the movements of these shoals: how they start from their home in the polar seas, and march south as a great armada which splits into minor divisions—one destined to spawn on the Scandinavian, and one on our own shores; and how, having achieved this spawning raid, the spent fish make their way as fast as they can back to their Arctic refuge, there to repair their exhausted frames in domestic security. This story was started in the last century, and was unfortunately adopted and disseminated by our countryman Pennant. But there is not the least proof that anything of the kind takes place, and the probabilities are wholly against it. It is, for example, quite irreconcilable with the fact that herring are found in cods' stomachs all the year round. And the circumstance to which I have already adverted, that practiced eyes distinguish local breeds of herrings, though it does not actually negative the migration hypothesis, is very much against it. The supposition that the herring spawn in the north in the early spring, and in the south in the autumn, fitted very well into the notion that the vanguard of the migrating body of herrings occupied the first spawning-ground it reached, and obliged the rest of the horde to pass on. But, as a matter of fact, the northern herrings, like the southern, have two spawning-times; or perhaps it would be more correct to say that the spawning-time extends from autumn to spring, and has two maxima—one in August-September, and one in February-March.
