FISH OUT OF WATER. 337 



live for a long time out of water makes them useful confederates in many 

 small tricks which seem very wonderful to people accustomed to be- 

 lieve that fish die almost at once when taken out of their native element. 



The Indian snakehead is a closely allied species, common in the 

 shallow ponds and fresh-water tanks of India, where holy Crahmans 

 bathe and drink and die and are buried, and most of which dry up 

 entirely during the dry season. The snakehead, therefore, has simi- 

 larly accommodated himself to this annual peculiarity in his local 

 habitation by acquiring a special chamber for retaining water to 

 moisten his gills throughout his long deprivation of that prime ne- 

 cessary. He lives composedly in serai-fluid mud, or lies torpid in the 

 hard-baked clay at the bottom of the dry tank from which all the 

 water has utterly evaporated in the drought of summer. As long as 

 the mud remains soft enough to allow the fish to rise slowly through 

 it, they come to the surface every now and then to take in a good hearty 

 gulp of air, exactly as gold-fish do in England when confined with 

 thoughtless or ignorant cruelty in a glass globe too small to provide 

 sufiicient oxygen for their respiration. But when the mud hardens 

 entirely they hibernate, or rather sestivate, in a dormant condition 

 until the bursting of the monsoon fills the ponds once more with the 

 welcome water. Even in the perfectly dry state, however, they prob- 

 ably manage to get a little air every now and again through the 

 numerous chinks and fissures in the sun-baked mud. Our Aryan 

 brother then goes a-fishing playfully with a spade and bucket, and 

 digs the snakehead in this mean fashion out of his comfortable lair 

 with an ultimate view to the manufacture of pillau. In Burmah, in- 

 deed, while the mud is still soft the ingenious Burmese catch the help- 

 less creatures by a still meaner and more unsportsmanlike device. 

 They spread a large cloth over the slimy ooze where the snakeheads 

 lie buried, and so cut off entirely for the moment their supply of 

 oxygen. The poor fish, half-asphyxiated by this unkind treatment, 

 come up gasping to the surface under the cloth in search of fresh air, 

 and are then easily caught with the hand and tossed into baskets by 

 the degenerate Buddhists. 



Old Anglo-Indians even say that some of these mud-haunting Ori- 

 ental fish will survive for many years in a state of suspended anima- 

 tion, and that, when ponds or jhils which are known to have been dry 

 for several successive seasons are suddenly filled by heavy rains, they 

 are found to be swarming at once with full-grown snakeheads, released 

 in a moment from what I may venture to call their living tomb in the 

 hardened bottom. "Whether such statements are absolutely true or 

 not the present deponent would be loath to decide dogmatically ; but, 

 if we were implicitly to swallow everything that the old Anglo-Indian 

 in his simplicity assures us he has seen — well, the clergy would have 

 no further cause any longer to deplore the growing skepticism and un- 

 belief of these latter unfaithful ages. 

 VOL. xxvrii. — 22 



