Chapter 13

The Water Ouzel sings very frequently, and as much in winter as at any time. Perched on a stone or a piece of ice, it chirps away at a famous rate, but its song consists almost entirely of its note _zeet, zeet_, which it hashes up in all sorts of ways, lengthening and shortening--now a crotchet, then a semiquaver, rising an octave or so, and then descending again. It makes as much of it as can be made, but with all its efforts its song is a very _so-so_ affair, all its syllables beginning with _z_, and almost ending with it too. Yet, although it is not much of a songster, it is almost a sacred bird with me, in consequence of the associations connected with it. A pair had built for forty years, according to tradition, in a wheel-race near to where I was born, and had never been molested by anybody until a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who was a great ornithologist, employed his gamekeeper to shoot this pair. I think the natives of Calcutta were not more indignant when an unlucky Englishman got one of their sacred bulls into his compound and baited him, than was our little community at what we considered so great an outrage. The gamekeeper narrowly escaped being stoned by myself and some more lads, any one of whom would have shot fifty Blackbirds or Fieldfares without any misgivings.

This bird very much resembles the Wren in its habits and motions, its nods and curtsies, and cocks its tail in exactly the same manner. Its nest is also similar in form to that of the Wren.

Some persons seem to think that it is impossible for the Water Ouzel to walk at the bottom of the water, owing to its body being of less specific gravity. I will not argue the point with them, but disbelieving my own eyes, I will endeavour to submit with a good grace; otherwise I should have said that I have repeatedly seen it doing so, from a situation where I had an excellent opportunity of observing it, the window of a building directly over the place where it was feeding. It walked into the water and began to turn over the pebbles with its bill, rooting almost like a pig, and it seemed to have no difficulty whatever in keeping at the bottom at all depths where I could see it; and I have frequently observed it when the water just covered it, and its head appeared above the water every time it lifted it up, which it did incessantly, turning over a pebble or two, then lifting its head, and again dipping it below to seize the creepers (_aquatic larvae_) it had disturbed from their hiding-places. Besides, its speed was too slow for diving. Every aquatic bird with which I am acquainted moves much faster when diving than when it is swimming or walking, and its course is generally in a straight line, or nearly so; but the Water Ouzel, when feeding, turns to the right or left, or back again to where it started, stops and goes on again, just as it does when out of the water. Yet when it wished, it seemed to have the power of altering its own gravity, as after wading about two, or perhaps five minutes, where it could just get its head out, it would suddenly rise to the surface and begin to swim, which it does quite as well as the Water-hen. The awkward, tumbling, shuffling wriggle which it appears to have, is occasioned by the incessant motion of its head as it turns over the gravel in search of creepers, which appear to me to form the bulk of its food.

Sir George Mackenzie seems to think that these birds destroy salmon spawn, and this opinion is prevalent in Scotland. If it is correct, it would go far towards putting an end to my partiality for them; but I rather think that they are unjustly accused, and believe they are catching creepers when they are supposed to be eating spawn. If this is the fact (and it is well worth ascertaining) they are rendering an essential service to the fisheries instead of injuring them, because these creepers (the larvae of the stone-fly, bank-fly, and all the drakes) are exceedingly destructive to spawning-beds, and as the Water Ouzel feeds on them at all other times, and as they are more abundant in the winter than at any other season, I think this is the more probable supposition. Of course, if Sir George Mackenzie has shot the bird, and speaks from his own knowledge, after dissecting it, there can be no doubt of the fact that it destroys spawn; but if he merely supposes so because the Water Ouzel feeds in the same streams where the salmon are spawning, it is very probable he is mistaken, for the reasons before mentioned. (May 29th, 1834).

* * * * *

SCOLOPAX, SABINES, SABINE'S-SNIPE.

Some years ago I killed what I am now persuaded was a Sabine's- Snipe, but unfortunately it was not preserved, for hanging it up in the larder with the other birds I had killed, I found to my great mortification that the cook had stripped it of every feather before I was aware, and before I had noted down the markings of the plumage.

The dry weather of August, 1820, had driven a flock of the Golden Plover from the moors to the banks of the river Wharfe, and on the 14th of that month I had been out with my gun, endeavouring to shoot some of them. On my return I sprung this Snipe from a pond near home, and killed it. When I picked it up, I was astonished to find a Snipe with the plumage of a Woodcock, and showed it to a friend of mine, who is a good practical ornithologist, but he was as much puzzled as myself to give it a name; so not being able to find a description of it in any books to which we had access, we jumped to the conclusion that it was a hybrid between the Snipe and the Woodcock, and called it a bastard Woodcock.

According to the recollection I have of it, it was as large as the solitary Snipe, and the bill was a little longer; the general appearance of the plumage on the wings and back resembled a dark- coloured Woodcock; but under the wings the fine blue inner coverts exactly resembled those of the Snipe. In those days I had no idea of the value attached to rare birds, nor did I know anything of the art of preserving birds, or of bird-preservers, and no doubt some of these gentlemen will pronounce me a great Goth when I tell them that what I regretted most, when I found that the bird was plucked, was the loss of the wings, the feathers of which I wanted to dress artificial flies with. Three days after I had killed this, I saw another in a ditch adjoining Sir Henry Ibbetson's park, at Denton, but being in his preserve I had no opportunity of procuring it. I had never seen one since, and until I had seen the sixth edition of Bewick's "Birds," I was unable to make out its name, about which I may still be mistaken. (May 29th, 1834.)

* * * * *

FISH AND OTHER RIVER PHENOMENA.

A writer in the "British Naturalist" says, that "fish don't feed, and therefore we may conclude they don't discern in sunny weather." If the author had ever been a May-fly-fisher he would have known that bright weather and clear water were essentially necessary to his success.

This fly is one of the best baits I know for large Trout, and is much used by the anglers in some of the rivers in Yorkshire (perhaps in other counties also), where two methods of fishing it are practised. The one is bobbing, which with one sort of bait or another is universal, and therefore needs no description. However, it is always practised in bright weather. In the other method (which I believe is peculiar to the North of England) the May-fly (stone-fly) is fished with a long line in rapid streams, in the same way as the artificial fly, except that it is fished up the stream; that is, the angler throws his line into the stream above where he stands, and allows it to float down opposite to him, when he makes another throw; by this means he always keeps his line slack, and the May-fly floats on the surface, which is essential to his success. I mention these two methods of angling because both are practised in bright weather, and therefore prove that fish both discern and feed in such days. I believe the fact is, that at such times they frequently see too well for the angler, and are consequently aware that his artificial flies are not what they seem to be. Fishes, particularly Par and Grayling, may be seen rising by dozens at the small flies (midges) which abound in sunny weather, yet the angler is unable to hook a single fish. First-rate anglers are well aware of this, and abandon their larger flies as the summer advances, use smaller hooks, dress their flies much finer, and substitute horsehair for the fishing- gut, when they can procure it of good quality.

* * * * *

LAMPREYS.

Lampreys abound in the Ribble. Some of them, of the large species (_Petromyzon marinus_), weigh three and four pounds each, [12] but owing to a prejudice against them (I suppose on account of their ugliness) they are seldom eaten. I will illustrate this prejudice by giving the remark of a keen fisherman to myself, on my saying that I should eat a large one I had just caught. "Well," said he, "if you can manage to eat such a thing as that, you would not stick at devouring a child in the small-pox." This, if not an elegant, was at least a forcible expression of his opinion on the subject, and this dislike of them is almost universal in this neighbourhood. (Jan. 17th 1832.)

"An Old Angler," in the "Magazine of Natural History," having questioned the assertion of Sir Everard Home that the Lamprey was hermaphrodite--in fact, that all were spawners and emitted eggs-- the following was addressed to the "Magazine of Natural History":--

When I had the pleasure of writing to you before, I had either overlooked or forgotten the queries of "An Old Angler" respecting the Lamprey. However, your remarks have induced me to pay a little more attention to the subject. I can now confirm in the strongest and most conclusive manner the supposition of "An Old Angler" that the sexes are as distinct in the Lamprey as they are in the Cod or Herring. How so distinguished an anatomist as Sir Everard Home fell into such a mistake, it is not for me to say; but I am as certain that the sexes are distinct in the Lamprey as that they are so in any other animal, and I will now give my reasons for making this positive assertion.

On the 8th of May, chancing to cross a small stream, I saw a number of Lampreys in the act of spawning, and remembering the queries of your correspondent, I stood to watch their motions. After observing them for some time, I observed one twist its tail round another in such a manner, and they both stirred up the sand and small gravel from the bottom in such a way, as convinced me it was a conjunction of the sexes. However, there were so many of them together, and they kept so continually moving about, that I could not single out the two individuals, and thus ascertain whether they were male and female; but I felt so desirous of being able to set this question at rest, that I went again next morning, and was fortunate enough to find only two, a male and a female. I then witnessed several sexual conjunctions, during which the sand and small gravel was stirred up by them, and each of which was followed by the ejection of a jet of eggs from the female. I then caught them both, and dissected them. The sexual organ in the male was projected above a quarter of an inch, and the body filled with milt; the female, although she seemed to have shed a considerable quantity of her spawn, had still a tolerable stock remaining.

I frequently afterwards witnessed the same thing, and always found the same difference of sexes; in fact, there was generally no difficulty in distinguishing the male from the female, without taking them out of the water: the latter might be readily known by the enlargement of her body, and the former by a still more incontestable token. I have been induced to describe this more minutely than I otherwise should have done, in consequence of the mystery in which the propagation of fish has been wrapped hitherto; and I am not aware that what I have described has been witnessed by anyone before--at least I don't know that it has been recorded.

I caught half-a-dozen Lampreys, four males and two females, and preserved them in spirits, and these I now forward to you.

I am unable to give the same information concerning the large Lamprey, having never seen it in the act of spawning; but I have repeatedly caught both milters and spawners of species with the milt and roe as distinctly visible in them as it is in the Salmon or any other fish.

I am of opinion that the _P. marinus_ and the _P. fluviatilis_ are distinct species, for the following reasons:--1st. Because the latter stays with us the whole year, while the former only ascends the rivers to spawn, and then returns to the sea immediately. 2nd. Because fish that are in the habit of descending to the sea, never (unless the small Lamprey be an exception to the general rule) arrive at maturity [13] until they have visited it; and, 3rdly, because there are no intermediate sizes (at least in the Ribble) between the one which, although only six or seven inches long, and an ounce in weight, is yet capable of propagation, and the one of a pound. Not having one of the larger kind to refer to, I am unable to point out any specific difference of form. (May 2nd, 1832.)

* * * * *

ON THE SPAWNING OF THE MINNOW.

As I had been so fortunate in observing the Lampreys, I felt desirous of ascertaining whether the same thing could be seen in other fish (as in Natural History it is not always safe to reason from analogy), and as there was a large shoal of Minnows spawning near the place where I had seen the Lampreys, I determined to watch their motions. They happened to have chosen a very convenient place for being observed, being between two large stones in the river, which lay about three feet from each other; so that by cautiously approaching them from behind one of the stones, I got close to without disturbing them, but after watching them carefully and repeatedly within the distance of two feet, I can only speak doubtfully of their operations, for they were so numerous, and their motions were so incessant; and when a female was about to shed her spawn, the males (which were ten times more numerous than the females) crowded round her in such a manner as to render it very difficult, if not impossible, to speak with certainty on the subject. I will state what steps I took to satisfy myself, and perhaps the history of my failure may be of use to future observers.

It occurred to me from what I observed, that it was probable the males had the power of absorbing the eggs after their exclusion by the female, and impregnating them within their own bodies; and I caught a dozen males at different times, when they were attending on females, and opened them, but I could discover nothing like an egg. I then caught a female, and scattered the spawn (which was expelled by the slightest pressure) in a place frequented by a number of males, but they took no notice of it whatever. I after this caught a female when she was surrounded by a number of males, and apparently in the act of shedding her spawn, and examined whether the spawn which I pressed from her body was impregnated; but it appeared perfectly homogeneous, and so delicate in its texture that it burst with the slightest touch, whilst in that which I picked up from among the gravel where it was scattered abundantly, the impregnation was visible with the assistance of a microscope, and it was so much tougher in its covering as to bear rolling about in my hand without injury. I then tried to impregnate the eggs _mechanically_, and applied a drop of the spermatic fluid to the egg at the moment of exclusion, and it certainly seemed, in one instance, both to increase the size and to alter the colour of the ova it was applied to; but I was not able to produce the same effect so decidedly in any of my subsequent attempts.

My observations, which were often repeated, induce me to believe that the egg is impregnated at the moment of exclusion, and that two males have (almost invariably) access to the female at the same time; for I frequently remarked, that when a female came among a number of males, they immediately pursued her: if she was not ready for shedding her spawn, she made a precipitate retreat; but if she was, she came boldly in among them, and was immediately pressed closely by a male on each side, who when they had been in that situation a short time, were superseded by other two, who wedged themselves in between them and the female, who appeared to treat all her lovers with the same kindness.

One difficulty is, that the spermatic fluid mixes very readily with water; and I cannot imagine how its virtue is preserved, [14] if (as I suppose must be the case) the egg is impregnated after exclusion; but I also think it probable that the ventral fins of the female serve to conduct this fluid to the place where it is needed, and the chemical affinity between it and the egg may be sufficient for impregnation.

P.S. July 27th. I tried to hatch some of the eggs I had endeavoured to fecundate. The attempt was unsuccessful. I placed the eggs, which I had put into some clean-washed gravel, in a shallow vessel (open at the top, and with holes drilled through the sides) in a small stream of water, but I found to my great mortification on looking for them a day or two after that there was not one left, but that in their stead were many aquatic insects, which had no doubt feasted on them as long as they lasted, and after this I was not able to meet with another shoal of Minnows in the act of spawning.

The head of the Minnow in the spawning season is spotted over with small white knobs, apparently osseous in their structure, which make their appearance immediately before the fish begins to spawn, and which disappear again as shortly after, and I think they are intended as a protection to the head of the fish during the spawning; as I remarked that they generally thrust their heads in between two pebbles, and had their tails sticking up almost perpendicularly. Yet this was not always the case, as they sometimes ran nearly out of the water, and it was in this situation that I observed what I have before mentioned, as I found it impossible to discover anything that was done by those in deeper water; for when a female went into such a situation, there was such a crowd of males rushed to the place that I lost sight of her in a moment.

I was astonished to find how quickly the eggs were hatched. I discovered a large shoal spawning on the 11th of May; on the 12th they were diminished to one-tenth of the number, and on the 14th (the 13th being Sunday) there was not one left. As I had by no means satisfied myself on the subject, I felt disappointed that they had so soon finished their operations, and I took up a handful of the gravel where they had been spawning, and examined it with the microscope, to see whether I could discover any ova, and how they were going on, when to my great surprise I found them already hatching and some of them already excluded from the egg. One of them, which I took on the point of a knife, swam briskly away, and another was the means of pointing out an enemy to me which I had not previously suspected, and that I had always hitherto believed to be the prey of and not the preyer upon fish. The poor Minnow had somehow got fast to the point of the knife, and in its struggles to free itself it attracted the attention of a creeper--the larva of one of the aquatic flies called drakes (_Ephemerae_)--which pounced upon it as fiercely as the water staphylinus does on the luckless tadpole, but, fortunately for the Minnow, either the glittering of the knife-blade or the motion of my hand, scared it away again without its prey.

The young Minnows in this state were quite transparent, except the eyes, which were disproportionately large; and they seemed to be perfectly aware that they owed their safety to concealment, as those that I saw immediately buried themselves in the gravel when they were set at liberty. (July 27th, 1832.)

* * * * *

EELS.

To the Editor of the "Gardener's Chronicle."

My attention has been called to a paragraph in a Worcester paper giving an account of a (so-called) discovery by Mr. Boccius, that Eels are propagated by spawn, like other fish, and that they are not brought forth alive, as had hitherto been supposed. This may be true, but before I can give an unqualified belief to the assertion, I should like to have a few questions answered by Mr. Boccius. Who saw the fish from which those thousands of eggs were extracted at the time this dissection was made? Are the parties who saw these eggs quite certain that the fish was an Eel and not a Lamprey? Who saw the eggs from which Mr. Boccius produced living Eels? Who beside Mr. Boccius ever saw Eel-fry in a pond which had no communication with a river? Will Mr. Allees and Mr. Reed (the gentlemen to whom the spawn was exhibited) say whether the ovary which was shown to them was pretty much of the same form as that of the Lamprey? and if not, in what respect did it differ?

I am induced to ask these questions, both because by inference they show my own opinions on the subject, and because I am led on undoubted authority to believe that Mr. Boccius is inclined to claim at _least_ all that belongs to him; and also because I have my doubts about the scientific attainments of Mr. Boccius in the Natural History of Fishes.

It is difficult to prove a negative. My never having seen the strange things above mentioned certainly does not prove that other people with better eyes and more discrimination have likewise failed to do so; but I can't help doubting, and I publish my doubts in the hope that the subject may be further inquired into. A true naturalist ought only to wish for the truth, without reference to his own preconceived notions; but so far as my examinations have gone, I have failed altogether to detect spawn in the fringes which I have fancied were the ovaria of the fish, or elsewhere, and I don't believe that Eels are bred in fresh water at all. I see the fry ascending from the sea in May and June by thousands and millions, but I never met with one of these in a pond having no communication with a river. I have little doubt that I shall be pronounced in error touching this matter, except perhaps by those who know how perseveringly these little Eels make their way up every stream, ditch, and driblet of water into which they can gain access. They penetrate into the water-pipes and pumps; they climb up the perpendicular faces of the rocks and weirs which obstruct the course of the rivers, even when they are only moist--adhering to the moss and stones like snails.

The downward migration of Eels is observed here from July to the middle of September, but in the Manchester market I find them up to this time (the end of November), and am informed that they are caught at the foot of Windermere in their downward migration.

Would a dissection of the Conger at various seasons throw any light on the propagation of Eels? One would think that in such large fish the ovaria would be much more easily distinguished than in smaller specimens. (November, 1850.)

_The above elicited the following reply:_--