FISH OUT OF WATER 311 



instinctive geographical faculty. On their way across 

 country, they do not despise the succulent rat, whom they 

 swallow whole when caught with great gusto. To keep 

 their gills wet during these excursions, eels have the power 

 of distending the skin on each side of the neck, just below 

 the head, so as to form a big pouch or swelling. This 

 pouch they fill with water, to carry a good supply along 

 with them, until they reach the ponds for which they are 

 making. It is the pouch alone that enables eels to live so 

 long out of water under all circumstances, and so incident- 

 ally exposes them to the disagreeable experience of getting 

 skinned alive, which it is to be feared still forms the fate 

 of most of those that fall into the clutches of the human 

 species. 



A far more singular walking fish than any of these is 

 the odd creature that rejoices (unfortunately) in the very 

 classical surname of Periophthalmus, which is, being inter- 

 preted, Stare-about. (If he had a recognised English name 

 of his own, I would gladly give it ; but as he hasn't, and 

 as it is clearly necessary to call him something, I fear we 

 must stick to the somewhat alarming scientific nomen- 

 clature.) Periophthalmus, then, is an odd fish of the 

 tropical Pacific shores, with a pair of very distinct forelegs 

 (theoretically described as modified pectoral fins), and with 

 Wo goggle eyes, which he can protrude at pleasure right 

 outside the sockets, so as to look in whatever direction he 

 chooses, without even taking the trouble to turn his 

 head to left or right, backward or forward. At ebb tide 

 this singular peripatetic goby literally walks straight 

 out of the water, and promenades the bare beach erect 

 on two legs, in search of small crabs and other stray 

 marine animals left behind by the receding waters. If you 

 try to catch him, he hops away briskly much like a frog, 

 and stares back at you grimly over his left shoulder, with 



