318 THE FAMILY OF EELS. 



pack-tliread to that of a man's wi-ist or leg; and our observation 

 leads us to tliink tliat the very young ones of about three 

 inches in length, which have gone upward in the spring, at 

 their return in the autumn are larger than a swan-quill, or in 

 some cases even of the size of the little finger of a child. 

 Whether any remain in fresh water through the winter, in 

 cases where a passage downward could be accomplished without 

 difficulty, appears uncertain; but it seems certain that the larger 

 number reverse the course which they took in tliie earlier 

 months of the year; and in doing this the season also is alto- 

 gether reversed. Instead of the day the darkest night is chosen; 

 and moonlight or even a bright light effectually delays the 

 movement; while a sky that is overcast and a murky air afford 

 strong enticement to action. It is on these occasions that large 

 numbers are caught in baskets of wicker-work, which are ]Dlaced 

 across the streams they frequent, with an open mouth presented 

 across the current. 



But restless and wandering as is the Eel, there are times 

 and situations in which it indulges in a state of rest or 

 apathy, which may be even a condition of profound sleep; 

 and from which it may not be easily roused. In the second 

 volume of the "Zoologist," the Rev. J. C. Atkinson observes, 

 "In the broad fleets on the marshes during hot weather in 

 summer, they seem to bask near the surface of the water, 

 resting meanwhile on the supjJort of the weeds; and on being 

 disturbed by a boat, or, if lying near the side, by a 

 passer-by, they quickly descend, making a kind of disturbance 

 in the water, which exactly resembles that caused by the 

 emergence and instantaneous re-immersion of the dabchick. 

 Sometimes on these occasions the Eel in its attempt to descend, 

 throws itself completely out of the water. On a calm summer's 

 evening I have seen them in some waters throwing themselves 

 out mvich after the manner of the Porpoise when leaping; 

 performing, that is, a kind of summersault. I have witnessed 

 this but rarely, and never in streams." 



We have observed that these fish are at all times highly 

 sensitive to cold; and when it is severe, its earliest effect is 

 to deaden their appetite for food; at which time they seek 

 shelter in some retreat, where they can hide themselves in a 

 bed of mud; or creep into a hole in the bank of the stream; 



