NONSUCH 



has been a knight's move — two squares ahead and 

 one to the right. 



It is well, however, to get rid of the horse idea 

 altogether, and watch and learn to like our fish for 

 himself. I put in a branch of seaweed and the long 

 tail feels for it and coils about it with the grip of a 

 chameleon. The next person who comes up to look 

 cannot at first find the seahorse — he has begun to 

 lose his identity. As we watch, this continues — he 

 shifts from dusky brown to a pale neutral color and 

 then again to dark, this time green, and Hippocam- 

 pus is fairly within the protective cloak of seaweed 

 sanctuary. He has gone vegetable and has taken 

 upon himself the easy load of seaweed dangers and 

 the very considerable advantage of algal immunity. 

 I reach down and gently swing the weed back and 

 forth, and still another trick is sprung — the little 

 creature sways both body and head loosely to and 

 fro in rhythm with what to him are the swells of 

 ocean. On the tips of the knobs and spines of his 

 armor are numerous, long bits of frayed-out fila- 

 ment, and these wave about and importantly dimin- 

 ish his zoological reality. 



So here we have the seahorse and his niche in the 

 world, balanced and weighed in the scales of life and 

 death and found on the whole good. From snout to 

 tail he is encased in bony jointed rings — one ring 

 to each backbone, and while it slows him down al- 

 most to snail-pace, yet it serves to protect him from 

 small predaceous crabs and other enemies. To carry 

 about such a complete armor requires delicate ad- 



228 



