NONSUCH 



hung down over the upper part of the pupil. After I 

 looked for a long time I saw why this was — the eye 

 was no longer an eye but an irregular pebble or sand 

 grain, and as I watched I saw the crescent become a 

 narrow slit, then a cross section of the third of a cir- 

 cle, and back again to crescent. 



The flounder winked, withdrawing one eye-turret 

 and moving it slowly about between decks, then up 

 again. Twice something happened straight overhead 

 which I could not detect, and first one, then both 

 eyes rolled upward. Later they made a careful hori- 

 zontal reconnaissance of the visible world, each 

 turning in more than a half circle, and between them 

 completely boxing the compass. 



With a hand lens I slowly brought the restless 

 eyes into focus through the side of the aquarium, 

 and soon I felt a distinct embarrassment. In no 

 other fish and in few mammals have I ever felt such 

 intelligence and understanding of itself, its environ- 

 ment and myself as these amazing eyes seemed to 

 convey. Both swung around and gazed steadily, un- 

 blinkingly at me, slight up and down movements 

 indicating (to my imagination at least) an acute 

 appraising of my features and gauging of my in- 

 tentions. A fish flashed in the next aquarium, and 

 both eyes turned swiftly, the farther to hold steady 

 on the new interest, the other turning back immedi- 

 ately to complete its estimate of my temper and my 

 purposes. Nothing could have made me injure the 

 peacock flounder after that. By luck and accident I 

 had netted and confined a fish, but eye to eye I saw 



106 



