F L Y-F ISHING IN THE SCHUYLKILL RIVER 



and many of the lower animals have the power 

 of imparting mutual intelligence by processes un- 

 known to us. The little ants hob-nobbing with 

 each other, the cooing dove wooing his mate vocally, 

 the hen clucking her brood under her protecting 

 wings, are familiar instances of vocal intercourse 

 among insects and birds; and no one who has 

 watched the minnows of a shallow pool, or those 

 in an aquarium, has failed to see equally sure in- 

 dications that fishes have a way of their own in 

 communicating with each other. They dart up to 

 one another, put noses together for a moment, and 

 then dart off again with an air as much as to say, 

 "All right!" 



Old j3Eschylus, in one of his poems, describes 

 many fishes as " the voiceless daughters of the 

 unpolluted one " ; but many of the ancients and 

 moderns testify to the utterances of fish. Pliny, 

 Ovid, and others tell us of the scarus and its won- 

 derful powers of intonation. In the days of old 

 Rome, certain fish were said to have a regular 

 language, " low, sweet, and fascinating," and the 

 Emperor Augustus pretended to understand their 

 words. We have all heard, or heard of, the vari- 

 ous sounds of the gurnards, the booming of the 

 drumfish, and the grunts of the croaker, the weak- 

 fish, and others. The grunt-fish of the Gulf of 

 Mexico is said to express discontent and pain, and 

 when touched with a knife, fairly shrieks, and when 



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