146 CONFESSIONS OF A BEACHCOMBER 



The balloon fish is toothless, the jaws resembling 

 the beak of a turtle, and in some species both the upper 

 and the lower jaws have medial sutures like those of a 

 snake. Was there not a Roman statesman or warrior 

 whose jaws were fitted with a consolidated and con- 

 tinuous structure of ivory instead of the ordinary separate 

 teeth? 



The balloon fish depends upon its inconspicuousness 

 and harmony with its environment in the struggle for 

 existence, for, no doubt, there are in the sea fish so strong 

 of stomach as to accept it without a spasm. It will allow 

 a boat to be paddled over it as it floats — a brown balloon 

 — almost motionless in the water without evincing alarm, 

 but it makes a commotion enough for a dozen when a 

 spear is fast in its back. 



Four Thousand Like One 



Among the more remarkable fish that people these 

 waters is a species that does not come within the limits of 

 my limited reading on the curious things of Nature. No 

 doubt, it is well known to the initiated, but I take the 

 opportunity of saying that these notes are not penned with 

 the presumptuous notion of enlightening the learned and 

 the wise, but for the edification, mayhap, of those who do 

 not know, who have no means of acquiring information 

 first hand, to whom text-books are unavailable, and who 

 are not above sharing the pleasures of one whose observa- 

 tions are superficial, and to whom hosts of common things 

 in Nature are rare and entertaining. 



In the clear water of Bramm Bay, a greenish black object, 

 a yard across by about a yard and a half long, moved 

 slowly along, swaying this way and that, but maintaining a 

 fairly accurate course consistent with the shore. As the boat 

 drifted, it seemed as if an unsophisticated sting-ray had 



