Fontainebleau Carp live a life of great enjoyment, marred only, we
imagine, by their immense numbers causing the supply of food to be
somewhat below their requirements. It is not, however, very easy to
define what a Carp's requirements in the form of pabulum are, as he
is a voracious member of the ichthyological family, eating whenever
he has an opportunity until absolutely surfeited. His favourite
food consists of vegetable substances masticated by means of flat
striated teeth, which work with a millstone kind of motion against
a singular process of the lower part of the skull covered with
horny plates. When this fish obtains an abundant supply of food it
grows to an enormous size. Several continental rivers and lakes
are very congenial to Carp, and especially the Oder, where this
fish occasionally attains the enormous weight of 60 lb. It is not
probable that any Carp in the lake at Fontainebleau are so large as
this; but there are certainly many weighing 50 lb., patriarchs of
their kind, which, though olive-hued in their tender years, are now
white with age. That the great size of these fish is due to ample
feeding is, we think, evident, and, as we shall see presently, it
is the large fish that are the best fed. During many years the
feeding of the Carp at Fontainebleau has been a favourite Court
pastime. But it is from the visitors who frequent Fontainebleau
during a great part of the year that the Carp receive their
most bountiful rations. For big Carp have an enormous swallow,
soft penny rolls being mere mouthfuls, bolted with ostrich-like
celerity. So to prevent the immediate disappearance of these
_bonnes bouches_, bread, in the form of larger balls than the most
capacious Carp can take into his gullet, is baked until it becomes
as hard as biscuit, and with these balls the Carp are regailed.
Throw one into the lake, and you will quickly have an idea of the
enormous Carp population it contains. For no sooner does the bread
touch the water than it is surrounded by hundreds of these fish,
which dart to it from all sides. And now, if you look attentively,
you will witness a curious display of instinct, which might almost
take a higher name. Conscious, apparently, of their inability to
crush these extremely hard balls, the Carp combine with surprising
unanimity to push them to that part of the lake with their noses
where it is bounded by a wall, and when there they butt at them,
until at last their repeated blows and the softening effect of the
water causes them to yield and open. And now you will see another
curious sight. While shoals of Carp have been pounding away at
the bread-balls, preparing them for being swallowed, some dozen
monsters hover round, indifferent, apparently, to what is passing.
But not so, for no sooner is the bread ready for eating, than two
or three of these giants, but more generally one--the tyrant,
probably, of the lake--rush to the prize, cleaving the shoals of
smaller Carp, and shouldering them to the right and left, seize the
bread with open jaws, between which it quickly disappears."
Some of the finest and oldest Carp are found in the windings of the
Spree, in the tavern-gardens of Charlottenburg, the great resort of
strollers from Berlin. Visitors are in the habit of feeding them with
bread, and collect them together by ringing a bell, at the sound of
which shoals of the fish may be seen popping their noses upwards from
the water.
The affection of fishes has only been properly understood of late years.
It might be supposed that little natural affection existed in this
cold-blooded race; and, in fact, fishes constantly devour their own
eggs, and, at a later period, their own young, without compunction or
discrimination. Some few species bear their eggs about with them until
hatched. This was long thought to be the utmost extent of care which
fishes lavished on their young; but Dr. Hancock has stepped in to rescue
at least one species from this unmerited charge. "It is asserted," he
says, "by naturalists, that no fishes are known to take any care of
their offspring. Both species of _Hassar_ mentioned below, however, make
a regular nest, in which they lay their eggs in a flattened cluster,
and cover them over most carefully. Their care does not end here; they
remain by the side of the nest till the spawn is hatched, with as much
solicitude as a hen guards her eggs, both the male and female Hassar,
for they are monogamous, steadily watching the spawn and courageously
attacking the assailant. Hence the negroes frequently take them by
putting their hands into the water close to the nest, on agitating which
the male Hassar springs furiously at them, and is thus captured. The
_roundhead_ forms its nest of grass, the _flathead_ of leaves. Both,
at certain seasons, burrow in the bank. They lay their eggs only in
wet weather. I have been surprised to observe the sudden appearance of
numerous nests in a morning after rain occurs, the spot being indicated
by a bunch of froth which appears on the surface of the water over
the nest. Below this are the eggs, placed on a bunch of fallen leaves
or grass, which they cut and collect together. By what means this is
effected seems rather mysterious, as the species are destitute of
cutting-teeth. It may, possibly, be by the use of their arms, which form
the first ray of the pectoral fin."
There is another operation by fishes, which seems to require almost
equal experience. Professor Agassiz, while collecting insects along the
shores of Lake Sebago, in Maine, observed a couple of Cat-fish, which,
at his approach, left the shore suddenly, and returned to the deeper
water. Examining the place which the fishes had left, he discovered
a _nest_ among the water-plants, with a number of little tadpoles.
In a few moments the two fishes returned, looking anxiously towards
the nest, and approached within six or eight feet of where Professor
Agassiz stood. They were evidently not in search of food, and he became
convinced that they were seeking the protection of their young. Large
stones, thrown repeatedly into the middle of the nest after the fishes
had returned to it, only frightened them away for a brief period, and
they returned to the spot within ten or fifteen minutes. This was
repeated four or five times with the same result. This negatives the
assertion made by some naturalists--that no fishes are known to take any
care of their offspring.
But affection is scarcely to be looked for where the offspring is so
very numerous as to put all attempts at even recognising them out of
the question. How could the fondest mother love 100,000 little ones at
once? Yet the number is far exceeded by some of the matrons of the deep.
Petit found 300,000 eggs in a single carp; Lenwenhoeck 9,000,000 in a
single cod; Mr. Harmer found in a sole 100,000; in a tench 300,000;
in a mackerel 500,000; and in a flounder 1,357,000.[14] M. Rousseau
disburthened a pike of 160,000, and a sturgeon of 1,567,000, while from
this latter class has been gotten 119 pounds weight of eggs, which, at
the rate of 7 to a grain, would give a total amount of 7,653,200 eggs!
If all these came to maturity the world would be in a short time nothing
but fish: means, however, amply sufficient to keep down this unwelcome
superabundance have been provided. Fish themselves, men, birds, other
marine animals, to say nothing of the dispersions produced by storms
and currents, the destruction consequent on their being thrown on the
beach and left there to dry up, all combine to diminish this excessive
supply over demand. Yet, on the other hand (so wonderfully are all
the contrivances of nature so harmonized and balanced), one of these
apparent modes of destruction becomes an actual means of extending the
species. The eggs of the pike, barbel, and many other fish, says M.
Virey, are rendered indigestible by an acid oil which they contain, and
in consequence of which they are passed in the same condition as they
were swallowed; the result of which is, that being taken in by ducks,
grebes, or other water-fowls, they are thus transported to situations,
such as inland lakes, which otherwise they could never have attained;
and in this way only can we account for the fact, now well ascertained,
that several lakes in the Alps, formed by the thawing of the glaciers,
are now abundantly stocked with excellent fish.
Little fishes are ordinarily the food of larger marine animals; but a
remarkable exception occurs in the case of the larger Medusæ, which
are stated in various works to prey upon fishes for sustenance. Mr.
Peach, the naturalist, has, however, by observations at Peterhead, in
Aberdeenshire, thus corrected this statement. He observed several small
fishes playing round the larger Medusæ in the harbour and bay. When
alarmed, they would rush under the umbrella, and remain sheltered in
its large folds till the danger had passed, when they would emerge,
and sport and play about their sheltering friend. When beneath the
umbrella they lay so close that they were frequently taken into a bucket
with the Medusæ. They proved to be young whitings, varying from 1-1/2
to 2 inches long. These little creatures, so far from becoming the
prey of the Medusæ, experienced from them protection; and, moreover,
they preferred the _stinging_ one. In no instance did Mr. Peach see a
fish in the stomach of the Medusæ, but all could liberate themselves
when they pleased. In one case, Mr. Peach witnessed a small whiting,
in the first instance chased by a single young pollack, whose assault
the little fellow easily evaded by dodging about; but the chaser being
joined by others, the whiting was driven from its imperfect shelter, and
after being much bitten and dashed about by its assailants, became at
length completely exhausted, and lay to all appearance dead. Recovering,
however, after action, it swam slowly to the Medusæ, and took refuge as
before; but its movements being soon observed, it was again attacked,
after a very brief respite, driven into open water, and speedily
despatched.
Fishes appear to execute annually two great migrations. By one of these
shiftings they forsake the deep water for a time, and approach the
shallow shores, and by the other they return to their more concealed
haunts. These movements are connected with the purposes of spawning,
the fry requiring to come into life, and to spend a certain portion
of their youth in situations different from those which are suited
to the period of maturity. It is in obedience to these arrangements
that the Cod and Haddock, the Mackerel, and others, annually leave
the deeper and less accessible parts of the ocean, the region of the
zoophytic tribes, and deposit their spawn within that zone of marine
vegetation which fringes our coasts, extending from near the high-water
mark of neap-tides to a short distance beyond the low-water mark of
spring-tides. Amidst the shelter in this region afforded by the groves
of arborescent fuci, the young fish were wont in comfort to spend
their infancy, but since these plants have been so frequently cut down
to procure materials for the manufacture of kelp, and the requisite
protection withdrawn, the fisheries have greatly suffered. Many species
of fish, as the Salmon, Smelt, and others, in forsaking the deep water,
and approaching a suitable spawning station, leave the sea altogether
for a time, ascend the rivers and their tributary streams, and, having
deposited their eggs, return again to their usual haunts. Even a certain
species of fish, inhabiting lakes, as the Roach, betake themselves to
the tributary streams, as the most suitable places for spawning.
The Goramy, of India, are stated by General Hardwicke to watch most
actively the margins of the spot which they select and prepare for
depositing their spawn, driving away with violence every other fish
which approaches their cover. The General adds that from the time he
first noticed this circumstance about one month had elapsed, when one
day he saw numerous minute fishes close to the margin of the grass, on
the outer side of which the parent fishes continued to pass to and fro.
There is a species of Grampus from two to three tons weight, and about
sixteen feet in length, that amuses itself with jumping, or rather
springing its ponderous body entirely out of the water, in a vertical
position, and falling upon its back. This effort of so large a fish is
almost incredible, and informs us how surprisingly great the power of
muscle must be in this class of animal. A Correspondent writes to the
"United Service Journal":--"I have seen them spring out of the water
within ten yards of the ship's side, generally in the evening, after
having swam all the former part of the day in the ship's wake, or on
either quarter. When several of these fish take it into their heads to
'dance a hornpipe,' as the sailors term their gambols, at the distance
of half a mile, they, especially at or just after sundown, may easily
be mistaken for the sharp points of rocks sticking up out of the water,
and the splashing and foam they make and produce have the appearance
of the action of waves upon rocks. An officer of the navy informed me
that, after sunset, when near the equator, he was not a little alarmed
and surprised at the cry of 'rocks on the starboard bow!' Looking
forward, he indistinctly saw objects which he and all on board took
to be pinnacles of several rocks of a black and white colour. In a
short time, however, he discovered this formidable danger to be nothing
more than a company of dancing Grampuses with white bellies. As one
disappeared, another rose; so that there were at least five or six
constantly above the surface."
Captain Owen relates that "the Bonita has the power of throwing itself
out of the water to an almost incredible distance when in pursuit of
its prey, the Flying Fish; and, the day previous to our arrival at
Mozambique, one of these fish rose close under our bow, and passed under
the vessel's side, and struck with such force against the poop, that,
had any one received the blow, it must have been fatal. Stunned by the
violence of the contact, it fell motionless at the helmsman's feet; but,
soon recovering, its struggles were so furious that it became necessary
to inflict several blows with an axe before it could be approached
with safety. The greatest elevation it attained above the surface of
water was eighteen feet, and the length of the leap, had no opposition
occurred, would have exceeded 180."
Of winged or Flying Fish we find this extravagant account in a
philosophical romance, entitled, "Telliamed," by M. Maillet, an
ingenious Frenchman, of the days of Louis XV.:--
He believed, like Lamarck, that the whole family of birds had
existed one time as fishes, which, on being thrown ashore by the
waves, had got feathers by accident; and that men themselves are
but the descendants of a tribe of sea-monsters, who, tiring of
their proper element, crawled upon the beach one sunny morning,
and, taking a fancy to the land, forgot to return. The account
is as amusing as a fairy tale. "Winged or Flying Fish," says
Maillet, "stimulated by the desire of prey, or the fear of death,
or pushed near the shore by the billows, have fallen among the
reeds or herbage, whence it was not possible for them to resume
their flight to the sea, by means of which they had contracted
their first facility of flying. Then their fins, being no longer
bathed in the sea-water, were split and became warped by their
dryness. While they found among the reeds and herbage among which
they fell many aliments to support them, the vessels of their fins
being separated, were lengthened, or clothed with beards, or, to
speak more justly, the membranes which before kept them adherent
to each other were metamorphosed. The beard formed of these warped
membranes was lengthened. The skin of these animals was insensibly
covered with a down of the same colour with the skin, and this
down gradually increased. The little wings they had under their
belly, and which, like their wings, helped them to walk into the
sea, became feet, and helped them to walk on the land. There were
also other small changes in their figure. The beak and neck of some
were lengthened, and of others shortened. The conformity, however,
of the first figure subsists in the whole, and it will be always
easy to know it. Examine all the species of fowl, even those of the
Indies, those which are tufted or not, those whose feathers are
reversed--such as we see at Damietta, that is to say, whose plumage
runs from the tail to the head--and you will see fine species
of fish quite similar, scaly or without scales. All species of
Parrots, whose plumages are different, the rarest and most singular
marked birds, are, conformable to fact, painted, like them, black,
brown, grey, yellow, green, red, violet colour, and those of gold
and azure; and all this precisely in the same parts, where the
plumages of these birds are diversified in so curious a manner."
The Jaculator Fish, of Java, has been called "a sporting fish," from the
precision with which it takes aim at its prey. In 1828 Mr. Mitchell
saw several of these fishes in the possession of a Javanese chief; and
here is the account of the curious manner in which these Jaculators were
employed. They were placed in a small circular pond, from the centre
of which projected a pole upwards of two feet in height. At the top of
the pole were inserted small pieces of wood, sharp-pointed, and on each
of these were placed insects of the beetle tribe. When the slaves had
placed the beetles, the fish came out of their holes, and swam round the
pond. One of them came to the surface of the water, rested there, and
after steadily fixing its eyes for some time on an insect, it discharged
from its mouth a small quantity of watery fluid, with such force, and
precision of aim, as to strike it off the twig into the water, and in
an instant swallowed it. After this, another fish came, and performed
a similar feat, and was followed by the others, until they had secured
all the insects. If a fish failed in bringing down its prey at the first
shot, it swam round the pond till it came opposite the same object, and
fired again. In one instance, a fish returned three times to the attack
before it secured its prey; but in general the fish seemed very expert
gunners, bringing down the beetle at the first shot. The fish, in a
state of nature, frequents the shores and sides of the rivers in search
of food. When it spies a fly sitting on the plants that grow on shallow
water, it swims on to the distance of five or six feet from them, and
then, with surprising dexterity, it ejects out of its tubular mouth a
single drop of water, which rarely fails to strike the fly into the
sea, where it soon becomes its prey.
Curious fish, in great numbers, may be seen in the Harbour of Port
Royal, Jamaica, on the surface of the water, and are ranked among the
peculiarities of the place. They are the Guardo, or Guard-Fish; the Jack
(Sword-Fish); and the Ballahou. The Jack is the largest, and appears to
be always at war with the two others; it is armed with formidable teeth;
it basks on the surface of the water during the heat of the day, in a
sort of indolent, unguarded state; but this is assumed, the better to
ensnare the other fish, and to catch the floating bodies that may happen
to pass near it; for the moment anything is thrown into the sea from
the ship, the Jack darts with the rapidity of lightning upon it, and
seizing it as quickly, retreats. This Warrior-fish possesses a foresight
or instinctive quality which we see sometimes exemplified in different
animals, almost amounting to second reason, such as the sagacity it
displays in avoiding the hook when baited; although extremely voracious,
it seems aware of the lure held out for its destruction, and avoids
it with as much cunning as the generality of fishes show eagerness to
devour it. The situation it takes, immediately in the wake of the ship
at anchor, is another instance of its sagacity; as whatever is thrown
overboard passes astern, where the fish is ever on the alert for the
articles thrown over. No other fish of equal size dare approach. The
Jack is, however, sometimes enticed with the bait; but he is more
frequently struck with a barbed lance, or entrapped in a net. The
Guardo has similar habits with the Jack, but is generally beaten by
him; yet the former tyrannizes with unrelenting rigour over the weaker
associate, the Ballahou.
The tiger of the ocean, the Shark, is often cruising about Port Royal,
but rarely injures human life. At Kingston, however, such distressing
events often occur. There was a pet Shark known as "Old Tom of Port
Royal;" it was fed whenever it approached any of the ships, but was at
last killed by the father of a child which it had devoured. Whilst it
remained here, no other of the Shark tribe dare venture on his domain;
he reigned lord paramount in his watery empire, and never committed any
depredation but that for which he suffered.
Attending the Shark is seen the beautiful little Pilot Fish, who, first
approaching the bait, returns as if to give notice, when, immediately
after, the Shark approaches to seize it. It is a curious circumstance,
that this elegant little fish is seen in attendance only upon the Shark.
After the Shark is hooked, the Pilot Fish still swims about, and for
some time after he has been hauled on deck; it then swims very near the
surface of the water. When the Shark has been hooked, and afterwards
escapes, he generally returns, and renews the attack with increased
ferocity, irritated often by the wound he has received.
Sharks appear to have become of late years much more numerous in Faroe,
as they have also in other parts of the North Seas, especially on the
coast of Norway.
The reader may, probably, have found on the sea-shore certain cases,
which are fancifully called sea-purses, Mermaids' purses, &c. Now,
some Sharks bring forth their young alive, whilst others are enclosed
in oblong semi-transparent, horny cases, at each extremity of which
are two long tendrils. These cases are the above _purses_, which the
parent Shark deposits near the shore in the winter months. The twisting
tendrils hang to sea-weed, or other fixed bodies, to prevent the cases
being washed away into deep water. Two fissures, one at each end, allow
the admission of sea-water; and here the young Shark remains until it
has acquired the power of taking food by the mouth, when it leaves what
resembles its cradle. The young fish ultimately escapes by an opening at
the end, near which the head is situated.
California has yielded an extraordinary novelty in fish history. In 1854
Mr. Jackson, while fishing in San Salita Bay, caught with a hook and
line a fish of the perch family _containing living young_. These were
supposed to be the prey which the fish had swallowed, but on opening
the belly was found next to the back of the fish, and slightly attached
to it, a long very light violet bag, so clear and transparent that
there could already be distinguished through it the shape, colour, and
formation of a multitude of small fish (all facsimiles of each other),
with which the bag was filled. They were in all respects like the
mother, and like each other; and there cannot remain a single doubt that
these young were the offspring of the fish from whose body they were
taken; and that this species of fish gives birth to her young alive
and perfectly formed, and adapted to seek its own livelihood in the
water. Professor Agassiz has confirmed the truth of this extraordinary
statement by a careful examination of the specimens, and has ascertained
that there are two very distinct species of this remarkable type of
fishes.
Tales of "Wonderful Fish" are common in the works of the old
naturalists, whence they are quoted from generation to generation.
Sir John Richardson has lately demolished one queer fish, which was
as certain to reappear whenever opportunity offered, as the elephant
pricked with the tailor's needle does in books of stories of the animal
world. We allude to that monstrous myth, the great Manheim Pike, with
a collar round his neck, put into a lake by the Emperor Frederick II.
in the year 1230; and taken out in the 276th year of his age, the 17th
foot of his length, and the 350th pound of his weight. M. Valenciennes,
a naturalist of repute, has entered into a critical history of this
monster, and has found him to be apocryphal. The creature was, at any
rate, taken in several places at once, the legends written on his
brass collar do not agree, and his alleged skeleton has been found
to be made up of various bones of various fishes; while the vertebræ
are, unfortunately, so many, that Professor Owen would order him out
of Court in an instant as a rank impostor. Probably some specimen of
the _Mecho_, the monstrous fish of the Danube--which has even now been
scarcely described, and which has only recently been identified as one
of the salmon tribe--having been called a pike, may be at the bottom of
the legend of the great Manheim fish. But Sir John Richardson produces
another big pike, killed by an intrepid "angler seventy years of age,
with a single rod and bait"--an observation which leads to the inquiry
of the possibility of catching a single fish with more than one rod
and bait--"that weighed seventy-eight pounds." This is stated to have
happened in the county of Clare; the angler's name was O'Flanagan.
Here is another wonderful story:--The Bohemians have a proverb--"Every
fish has another for prey:" that named the Wels has them all. This is
the largest fresh-water fish found in the rivers of Europe, except the
sturgeon; it often reaches five or six feet in length. It destroys many
aquatic birds, and we are assured that it does not spare the human
species. On the 3d of July, 1700, a peasant took one near Thorn, that
had an infant entire in its stomach! They tell in Hungary of children
and young girls being devoured on going to draw water; and they even
relate that, on the frontiers of Turkey, a poor fisherman took one that
had in its stomach the body of a woman, her purse full of gold, and
a _ring_! The fish is even reported to have been taken sixteen feet
long. The old stories of rings found in the stomachs of fishes will be
remembered; as well as here and there a _book_ found in the stomach of a
fish!