1 66 AT THE END OF THE SPECTRUM 



for some time, all headed one way. Their eyes shone with 

 a dull glow, and their bodies were covered with a multi- 

 tude of tiny lights. One dashed toward me, and head-on 

 I could distinguish the flash of long fangs, although I do 

 not know from whence the illumination came. It then 

 turned backward not far from my window and for a 

 sufficient fraction of a second the fish stood clear, with its 

 hexagonal scales shining, and then became more dim than 

 ever. On the surface of the earth we call them Cbauliodus, 

 or saber-toothed viperfish (Figs. 93 and 99) . The remain- 

 ing six had vanished while I was watching the seventh, 

 and in their place an elongate series of dull golden siphono- 

 phores drifted past. I also saw several large heteropods, 

 another group of flying snails, probably Carinaria, fan- 

 ning through the water. These were distinctly visible ap- 

 parently in their own light, which however was so rela- 

 tively weak that it disappeared when we switched on the 

 electric light. 



At 1750 feet six fish, each with a double line of lights 

 down the side of the body, were in sight. They were most 

 certainly Melanostomiatid dragon-fish, but strain as I 

 could, no evidence of barbel was visible. I again turned on 

 the searchlight and they twisted and melted into the milky 

 turquoise of the distant beam. The oxygen tank showed 

 that we had now, at 3:11 p.m., breathed up half its con- 

 tents. 



1800 and 1900 feet were not blacker — that were im- 

 possible — but the complete dark seemed more tangible. 



