NONSUCH 



and the air for only a small fraction of the suspen- 

 sion. There are muscles sufficient for spreading and 

 closing the great expanse of web and rays, but none 

 for vibrating or flapping. The wealth of ingenuity 

 of Mother Nature is shown by the various groups 

 of flyingfish, some gaining their object birdlike as 

 monoplanes, with only a single pair of large pec- 

 toral or breast fins, while others are biplanes, with 

 two pairs of fins developed. The law of compensa- 

 tion rules that these enlarged fins can play only a 

 single part in the activities of the owner, and when 

 a flyingfish swims it is by means of the tail fin alone, 

 while the wings dangle helplessly, like half-closed 

 fans. 



The chief object of the power of flight is un- 

 doubtedly to escape enemies. As our steamer makes 

 its way over the calm expanse of ocean, the surface 

 seems to hide only great peace and quiet. We oc- 

 casionally see fish swimming near the top, or whales 

 rolling and spouting, or dolphins playing about the 

 bow. But when in the distance a hundred silvery 

 forms break forth and glide until gravitation pulls 

 them back, we realize that the struggle for existence 

 is as severe here as anywhere. With voracious fish 

 always on the watch, the flyingfish need every inch 

 spread of canvas and every turn of their little tur- 

 bine tails that they can command. 



Flyingfish are excellent eating and in places like 

 Barbados their capture is a regular industry. Dur- 

 ing the day they have perfect control of body and 

 fins whether in water or air, but at night, in the 



74 



