CHAPTER VII.

INTELLIGENCE AND SPECIAL SENSES.

Venator. But, master! do not trouts see us, in the night?

Piscator. Yes; and hear, and smell, too, both then and in the day-time.IZAAK WALTON.

THE brain of fishes differs so materially in size, conformation, substance and analogy from that of other animals, that it has been the rule of specialists to attribute to this class of vertebrates a very low order of intelligence. In opposition to this theory, however, Dr. F. Day recently read a paper before the Linnæan Society of London, England, in which he endeavored to show that fishes possessed a far higher order of intelligence than is usually accorded them.

He claimed that the experience of himself and others indicated that they possessed emotions and affections, and in support of that view he showed that they constructed nests, transported and defended their eggs, protected their young, manifested their affections for each other, recognized human beings, could be tamed, exhibited the emotions of fear, anger, and revenge, uttered sounds, hid from danger, sought protection by attaching themselves to the bodies of other animals, and had peculiar modes of defense; that they left the water in search of food, and that they sometimes combined for attack and defense.

Every observant angler and naturalist has, in his own

experience, proved the truth of many of the above assertions, and, no doubt, some have observed traits of intelligence still more convincing.

The wonderful faculty of anadromous fishes, seeking out and ascending their native streams during the breeding season, even after being purposely carried hundreds of miles away, has commanded the admiration of biologists, yet they can see nothing in the small and jelly-like brain of the fish to account for the marvelous habit, but instinct; on the same principle, perhaps, that Coleridge accounts for the blindness of Love:

"His eyes are in his mind.”

SENSE OF SIGHT.

We are led to believe, from the investigations of anatomists, that the organs of special sense in fishes are very imperfectly developed; but while this may be true, in the main, as regards the special senses of touch and taste, I am constrained to believe, from the observations of myself and many others, that fishes, in general, have the senses of sight, hearing, and smell developed in a much greater degree than is generally supposed.

The diversities in form and position of the eyes of different fishes, prove that they are of the greatest use to them, in procuring food, and in escaping from their enemies; and are placed "where they will do the most good."

In the majority of fishes, which are constantly moving about, and frequent alike the surface and bottom of streams, the eyes are placed in the usual position of most other

animals, one on each side of the head. In those which stay more constantly in the lower depth of waters, the eyes are placed on top of the head, as in the star-gazers; while in the flat fishes, which recline or swim on one side near the bottom, both eyes are placed on the same side of the head, enabling them to obtain the benefit of both eyes while in that position. In the Pike-perch, which is nocturnal in its habits, the eyes are unusually large, as is the case with other animals who seek their food mostly at night.

It is a popular idea that fish are necessarily near-sighted on account of the conformation of the eye, which is large, round and prominent; and the main argument adduced to support this theory, is the readiness with which they will take an artificial fly, trolling spoon or other artificial bait, which resemble in but slight degree the natural objects of food that they are intended to represent, if, indeed, they are intended to represent any thing.

It is very often the case that those anglers who are most strenuous in their theory that fish are near-sighted, stultify themselves by carrying a large and most varied assortment of artificial flies, of all shapes and colors, in order to meet the "fastidious taste" of the fish, that often refuse one pattern or color, and rise eagerly to another, which could not be the fact were they so near-sighted as many believe. The consistency of these anglers would be more apparent, if they would adopt Mr. Cholmondely Pennell's theory of artificial flies, and confine themselves exclusively to his three typical flies-brown, yellow, and green hackles.

Now, I am not of those who believe that our brave game fishes possess such extreme gullibility, as to mistake. an artificial lure for the genuine article, upon the hypo

thesis of near-sightedness. My opinion, founded upon numerous experiments, is, that fishes see and hear as well in and through the medium of the water, for all practical purposes, as the angler does through the medium of the atmosphere; the clearer and more rarified the medium, the clearer and greater the range of vision in both instances.

In muddy or turbid waters the sight of fishes is necessarily limited, as ours would be in hazy or foggy weather. It is neither fair nor logical to presume that fishes, in water, ought to discern objects in the atmosphere above, any clearer or plainer than we can perceive objects in the water, while standing on the brink.

We are altogether too prone to judge every thing from our own standpoint, and to attribute to our own cleverness results that in all probability depend upon other and extraneous circumstances. Who, of us, could tell a skillfully tied artificial fly from a real one, beneath the water, when its surface was ruffled by a brisk breeze, shadowed by drifting clouds, covered with the froth and suds of an eddy, or surmounted by the foam and bubbles of a rapid?

Yet, there are those who contend, because fish fail to detect this difference through the same obstacles to clear vision, that they are of a verity near-sighted, and easily fooled by the very poorest semblance of a fly or feathery nondescript; but let one of these persons try a cast of the best flies upon a bright, still day, when the water is perfectly clear and the surface like a mirror, and if he expects to get a rise under such conditions, he himself must be very near-sighted indeed.

On the other hand, any one who has seen a Black Bass

dart like an arrow and seize a minnow swimming quietly thirty feet away, or a Brook Trout flash like a meteor for a dragon fly hovering near the water at the same distance, must admit that their visual powers are sufficient for all practical purposes.

It is quite amusing to hear an angler expatiate learnedly on the dimness of sight and dullness of hearing in fishes, and in the next breath caution the tyro to have his clothing conform as nearly as possible with the hues of the foliage skirting the stream; to keep out of sight, tread lightly, and make as little noise as possible; and to assure him, that, even then, the chances are that the fish will see the novice before he sees the fish.

It is a curious contradiction of theory and practice, a fishy illustration of the abstract and concrete. The explanation I conceive to be this: Our Piscator would be considered a scientific angler, which, in his case, becomes a contradiction of terms; for while blindly holding to the opinions of some closet naturalist, he is practically following the dictates of his own experience and common

sense.

Now, it is possible to be scientific and an angler, too, but our science, like our angling, must be practical, and must of necessity be learned by close observation and study of the habits of the fishes as they exist in nature, and not alone from the study of the physical construction of a preserved specimen.

I am well aware that scientists consider fish myopic, or near-sighted; not, however, on account of excessive convexity of the cornea, as is popularly supposed, for it is an exploded theory in medical science that myopia depends necessarily upon this condition; indeed, in fishes the