The Zoologist — March, 1874. 3895 



Tlie Sleep of Fishes. By W. R. Hughes, Esq., F.L.S. 



Referring to your notes (Zool. S. S. 3878), the following 

 observations may be interesting at this time, as I do not remember 

 to have seen anything similar recorded. 



When at Tenby, in July, 1866, I was in the habit of visiting a 

 certain rock-pool, by candle-light, late at night, usually between 

 eleven and twelve o'clock, to see if the Actiniae were expanded. 

 The rock-pool in question is situated on the south-west side of 

 St. Catherine's Rock, and is probably well known to collectors. 

 It is a few feet up the rock, approached by rough natural steps, 

 and the pool abruptly opens at right angles through a water-worn 

 fissure in the rock, out of which the pool itself is scooped by the 

 action of the sea. As far as I remember, it is about the size of an 

 ordinary foot-pan. The water was of pellucid clearness, and at the 

 time I mention the sides of the pool were studded with numbers of 

 the lovely opaque white snowy anemone {Sagartia nivea), all fully 

 expanded, and looking like daisies in early spring. 



On one of my visits I noticed there were several small fishes at 

 the bottom of this pool, — blennies and rocklings, — but I forget the 

 number of each species. As every one who has attempted to 

 catch these little fishes is perfectly aware, very few surpass them 

 in their successful efforts at concealment. If one is found in a 

 pool no bigger than a soup-plate, and there are only three or four 

 stones in it, Master Blenny is sure to wriggle himself under them, 

 or if there is but one crevice he is sure to ensconce himself in it. 

 And his friend the rockling is equally artful in his proceedings. 

 Imagine, therefore, my astonishment, on the occasion I mention, 

 when by the light of the candle I saw these little fishes perfectly 

 still at the bottom of the pool, — not darting off to find a corner, as 

 they would in the daylight, nor appearing to notice me in any 

 way. I pulled up my sleeve, and putting ray hand quietly to the 

 bottom took the whole of the fishes, one by one, and held them 

 softly in the other hand. They neither moved nor showed any 

 signs of resistance, nor attempted to escape, but seemed either 

 asleep or temporarily paralyzed by the light, just as some birds 

 are "scared" by the sudden appearance of a lantern, and may 

 be captured without difficulty under the influence of the light. 

 I returned them to the water, and they resumed their old places at 



