214 The Bonito 



Now there was not the shghtest suggestion of 

 danger ; for the sharks, of which of course there were 

 many, had such abundance of easily gotten food about 

 them that even had one of us fallen overboard, I do 

 not believe we should have been molested at all. 

 But in the presence of that seething mass of life, all 

 self-subsisting, ever devouring, ever unsatisfied and 

 inexhaustible, a positive sense of fear came over us 

 all, and when the skipper said : ' Stem, boys, and let's 

 get out o' this, I don't like it,' we felt that he had aptly 

 voiced our own sentiments. So we returned to the 

 ship, feeling quite relieved to get on board again, and 

 place something more substantial between us and 

 those hungry hordes than the thin shell of a boat. I 

 know it was foolish, but that is how we all felt. 



One peculiarity of the Bonito I must notice with 

 some diffidence, because I know that I shall find myself 

 in opposition to naturalists generally. It is a common- 

 place that a fish is a cold-blooded animal, and it is, 

 generally speaking, true. But the Bonito has blood 

 as warm as our own, and I know it experimentally. 

 The first Bonito I ever caught was when I was barely 

 fourteen, and small for my age. I bestrode the flying- 

 jib and locked my legs inside the jib-guys and round 

 the boom-end. Still the stout, slippery, chubby form 

 of the fish (he was about fifteen pounds weight), aided 

 by his extraordinary vibrations, made it impossible 

 for me to hold him by cuddling him tightly to my 

 bosom. So in a fit of desperation I jammed my fingers 

 into his gills, and must, I suppose, have ruptured 

 his heart, which is very close to his gills, for imme- 

 diately a miniature torrent of hot blood flowed all 

 over me, much of it running down my bare chest 

 inside of my shirt, which as usual, had no buttons on 

 the front. Then, finding my strength fast going, I 



