46 Fish Life [SECOND WEEK 



What a delightful sensation must it be to all but escape 

 the eternal downpull of gravity, to float and turn and rise 

 and fall at will, and all by the least twitch of tail or limb, 

 for fish have limbs, four of them, as truly as has a dog 

 or horse, only instead of fingers or toes there are many 

 delicate rays extending through the fin. These four limb- 

 fins are useful chiefly as balancers, while the tail-fin is 

 what sends the fish darting through the water, or turns 

 it to right or left, with incredible swiftness. 



If we were able to examine some inhabitant of the 

 planet Mars our first interest would be to know with 

 what senses they were endowed, and these finny creatures 

 living in their denser medium, which after a few seconds 

 would mean death to us, excite the same interest. They 

 see, of course, having eyes, but do they feel, hear, and 

 smell? 



Probably the sense of taste is least developed. When 

 a trout leaps at and catches a fly he does not stop to taste, 

 otherwise the pheasant feather concealing the cruel hook 

 would be of little use. When an animal catches its food 

 in the water and swallows it whole, taste plays but a 

 small part. Thus the tongue of a pelican is a tiny flap 

 all but lost to view in its great bill. 



Water is an excellent medium for carrying minute 

 particles of matter and so the sense of smell is well de- 

 veloped. A bit of meat dropped into the sea will draw 

 the fish from far and wide, and a slice of liver will some- 

 times bring a score of sharks and throw them into the 

 greatest excitement. 



Fishes are probably very near-sighted, but that they 



