I catch at the same time, and at the same place, but under different
conditions, a tiny fish of the same family, possessing remarkable
delicacy of appearance. It is the Freckled Goby of Yarrell, Spotted
Goby of Pennant, _le Boulereau blanc_ of the French, the Polewig, and
the Pollybait of the Thames fisherman.[112] Yarrell tells us that it
is most plentiful in the Thames, doubtless coming up with the tide,
for I do not think it would live with the admixture of any great
quantity of fresh water. It is used for the baiting of the hook in
the line-fishing, like most other minute fishes that can be taken in
sufficient numbers, and with sufficient certainty, by means of the net.
Here I find it in the wide pools that lie in the hollows of the ledges,
with a bottom of sand, and not more than an inch or two of water. Under
an August sun this becomes, during the three or four hours that the
receding sea of spring-tides leaves it, quite tepid; often standing
at blood-heat, or even higher. In these shallows the Freckled Goby
lies, companion of the Sand-shrimp, which in size, translucency,
and colouring, it closely resembles. It remains quite still, as if
conscious of its safety-point, for it is with difficulty visible,
even if your eye is resting on the very spot; what little of colour
it has being exactly that of the surrounding sand. When danger comes
too close, it shoots to another part, and you detect that something
indistinct passed rapidly along; it does not, however, habitually seek
the shelter of the fringing weeds, as a Prawn would, but suddenly
becomes still in the open space, settling close down upon the sand,
just as the Shrimps do. It is rather harder to capture than one would
suppose; but I find the surest way is to place the mouth of the net
obliquely on the bottom, a few inches in front of the fish, without
disturbing him; then, approaching him with my hand from behind, he
leaps in and is secured. When taken it is a pretty and attractive
little species; very pellucid, showing the stomach and intestine quite
plainly through the muscles, as a dark mass; and even the brain,
which also is darkish, probably from the number and fulness of the
blood-vessels which supply that important organ. This apparition of
the internal viscera in a vertebrate animal strikes one as something
unusual and remarkable.
The entire surface of this translucent and almost colourless body is
studded with minute specks of rust-red, and with still smaller ones
of opaque pale yellow, which are visible only with the aid of a lens.
Nothing can be more sand-like than this aggregation of red and yellow
dots, and surely we must look upon it, in conjunction with the habits
of the little feeble fish, as a special provision for its safety,
ordained by Him whose tender mercies are over _all_ His works. The
eyes are very prominent, and set in very thick and dark orbits; the
pupil is surrounded by a crimson iris. Great size and prominence of the
eyes is quite characteristic of the fishes of this family. It may be
that their habitual residence in the shallows exposes them peculiarly
to the attacks of enemies; and the size of the eye may be connected
with a greater power or quickness of sight, indicating a proportionate
development of the optic nerve. But this is only a conjecture.
The pectorals, as usual, are large, but quite colourless, and hence
can scarcely be discerned, or only like a film of clear talc. The two
dorsals are ordinarily carried, when at rest, depressed quite down to
the back, but are elevated in swimming. The tail is crossed vertically
by bands of red dots. Like most of the sand-loving creatures, the
Freckled Goby does not long survive captivity in a tank. Perhaps,
however, this may be because our aquariums are not specially arranged
with a view to their instincts. A very wide shallow vessel, with a
bottom of sand, and a piece or two of rough rock for shadow, stocked
with Freckled Gobies, Weavers, Sand-launces, Shrimps, Venuses, Naticas,
etc., might do well. But these will not do with an ordinary collection
of rock-loving things.
What Crantz says of the coast of Greenland is not less true of our
own rocky sea-margins. “These shores are the best and grandest school
for the study of fishes. Here the naturalist may attain a fundamental
acquaintance with them, and discover the nature and instincts of each
species. It would prove a spacious field of observation for a curious,
inquiring mind, which would often fall into a train of profound
meditation, as he surveyed the nature and function and relations of
the inhabitants of the vast ocean, from the minutest insect, scarce
perceptible to the eye, to the monstrous whales, together with the
seemingly fabulous great sea-monsters, and the equally inconceivable
zoophytes, or” [as then supposed] “half-animal sea productions. Yet,
after all, the most speculative and penetrating human mind will never
be able to pry so deep into the manifold wisdom of God in his creatures
as to search them out to perfection; even the meanest of them, and such
as are before every one’s eyes. But, for that very reason, because we
are so imperfect, we are never satiated with the study of nature, nor
weary of rendering that praise to the Lord of Nature which He expects
from His creatures.”