FISHES OF OUR NORTH ATLANTIC SEABOARD 
65 
expect Swordfish. When swimming near the sur¬ 
face, it usually comes so close to the top that the 
tips of its back and tail fins are exposed. 
This exposure enables the fisherman to detect 
its presence, and, being given to swimming slowly 
at times, it is easily overtaken by a schooner with 
a light breeze to drive it. Every now and then it 
leaps entirely out of the water, and old fishermen 
attribute this to tormenting parasites; but modern 
authorities disagree with that theory. Be that as it 
may, one authority tells us that it strikes with 
the force of fifteen double-hammers and with the 
velocity of a swivel shot. 
Its stupidity in attacking ships and other objects 
sailing the seas is so great that Oppian tells us 
that “Nature her bounty to his mouth confined, 
gave him a sword, but left unarmed his mind.” 
The feeding habits of the Swordfish are striking. 
It is said that it swims under a school of small 
fishes, and then, suddenly rising to the top, thrashes 
about with its sword, killing a number of its prey 
in the act. These it promptly devours and then 
repeats the performance. 
It is said the Swordfish never comes to the sur¬ 
face except in moderate, smooth weather. Once 
it is sighted the lookout at the masthead “sings 
out,” and the skipper takes his place in the “pulpit,” 
on the end of the bowsprit, holding the harpoon 
pole in both hands by the small end. Directing the 
helmsman, he guides the vessel toward the quarry, 
and when the fish is eight or ten feet off the prow, 
rams the harpoon into its back. The fish is allowed 
plenty of line, and then two men go out in a yawl 
and maneuver the victim alongside, where it is 
killed with a whale lance. 
There are some of the thrills of whaling in sword¬ 
fishing, since there is no slow baiting or careful 
waiting and no bother with nondescript bait- 
stealers. The Swordfish is a worthy antagonist, 
and many a vessel has limped into port, leaking 
badly as a result of attacks by wounded Sword¬ 
fish. Occasionally a small boat is attacked and 
the sword rammed clear through its side. Once 
the sword punctured two inches into the heel of a 
sailor standing in a boat. 
SMELT (Osmerus mordax) 
{For illustration see Color Plate, 5 ^') 
The Smelts are structurally akin to the Salmons, 
being largely like them except in size. The other 
chief difference is in the form of the stomach, 
which, in the Smelts, is a blind sac, with the two 
openings close together, while in the Salmons it 
is siphon-shaped. All of the species are small and 
most of them stick strictly to the sea, although a 
few go up rivers to spawn, after the fashion of the 
Salmons. All of the abundant species are edible, 
the flesh being extremely delicate and often full of a 
fragrant, digestion-aiding oil. 
The leading American Smelt is Osmerus mordax, 
a shapely little creature that is rarely longer than 
lo inches. It ranges along the coast from the 
Virginia Capes to the St. Lawrence Gulf, and 
enters the streams and brackish bays to spawn 
during the winter months, when it is taken in great 
numbers, with hook and line and in nets. 
In going up streams some of the Smelts have 
lost their way and become landlocked in numerous 
lakes such as Champlain and Memphremagog. 
The fishermen take vast quantities of them dur¬ 
ing the winter, most of which are frozen and sent 
to the larger cities. Those that are not frozen are 
termed Green Smelts and are rated very high on the 
scale of finely flavored fish. Shrimps and other small 
crustaceans form the favorite food of this species. 
Captain John Smith, of Jamestown fame, wrote 
in 1622 that there was such an abundance of them 
that the Indians dipped them up from the rivers 
with baskets used like sieves. 
Another Smelt that belongs in the fine-food 
category is the Capelin, found from Cape Cod to 
the Arctic on the Atlantic coast and in Alaskan 
waters on the Pacific. Its eggs are deposited in 
vast quantities in the sands along the shore. These, 
washed up on the beaches, present the appearance 
of masses of little fishes, eggs, and sand. Hatching 
takes place in about thirty days, and the youngsters 
ride the first waves out into the sea. 
Still another Smelt that meets with favor where- 
ever it abounds is known as the Eulachon, or 
Candlefish {Thaleichthys pacificus), which lives in 
great numbers on the Pacific coast from Oregon 
northward. It is said to be unsurpassed in delicacy 
of flavor, which is described as exceeding that of 
any Trout. It is remarkable for its extreme oiliness, 
which is so great that, when dried and a wick put 
into its body, it serves as a candle; hence its name. 
The oil is sometimes extracted and used as a sub¬ 
stitute for cod-liver oil. At ordinary temperatures 
it is solid and lardlike in its consistency. 
TILEFISH (Lopholatilus chamaeleonticeps) 
{For illustration see Color Plate, page yj) 
There is no greater wonder story of the seas 
than the history of the Tilefish. To-day a few 
connoisseurs pronounce it second only to the 
Pompano in flavor, and it is receiving much attention 
from those who are not Bourbons in matters of food. 
Prior to 1879 fine fish had no place in the 
roster of known fishes. In that year a New Eng¬ 
land trawler, fishing for Cod off the Nantucket 
coast, took 5,000 pounds of Tilefish, the first of 
which there is any record. Whether eaten fresh, 
salted, or smoked, the samples the trawler took 
home proved attractive. 
For three years there was widespread interest 
in this newly found food fish. Then, in April and 
May, steamers arriving from Europe reported 
seeing myriads of dead Tilefish. One steamer 
reported that it had sailed through 150 miles of 
them, and data gathered indicated that perhaps 
7,000 square miles of sea surface was strewn with 
the victims of some untoward circumstances of the 
sea. It was estimated that the total number of 
dead fish might reach a billion and a half. 
There were no signs of disease and no evidences of 
parasitic infection. Neither could the calamity be ac¬ 
counted for on the basis of attack by other creatures. 
All sorts of theories were advanced to explain 
the catastrophe—submarine volcanoes and poison¬ 
ous gases among them. 
It had been noted, however, that there was a 
strip of water, lying on the border of the Gulf 
Stream slope, between the Arctic current and the 
cold depths of the sea, which was warmer in 1879 
and 1880 than the normal water of that region. 
Dredging in this water had revealed many species 
of marine invertebrates characteristic of the waters 
of the lower latitude, a sort of tropical faunal 
peninsula in the sea. 
In 1882, after the vast schools of Tilefish had 
disappeared, this region was resurveyed. It was 
