The Dolphin is from six to ten feet in length. The body is roundish, gradually diminishing towards the tail; the nose is long and pointed, the skin smooth, the back black or dusky blue, becoming white below. It has numerous small teeth in each jaw; a dorsal and two pectoral fins, and a tail in the shape of a crescent. The beak-like snout has probably made the French call the Dolphin the sea-goose.

Several curious stories have been related of this animal, most of which are fabulous. The anecdote of Arion, the musician, who, being thrown overboard by pirates, was indebted for his life to one of these animals, is well known, and acquired great credit among ancient poets, as it was said to be by his music that Arion charmed the Dolphin. There are several other fables mentioned by ancient authors to prove the philanthropy of the Dolphin. Since the province of Dauphiné in France has been united to the crown, the heir-apparent has been called “Dauphin,” and quarters a Dolphin on his shield. Falconer, in his beautiful poem, “The Shipwreck,” describes the death of the Dolphin in the following elegant manner:

“—— Beneath the lofty vessel’s stern
A shoal of sporting dolphins they discern,
Beaming from burnished scales refulgent rays,
Till all the glowing ocean seems to blaze.
In curling wreaths they wanton on the tide;
Now bound aloft, now downward swiftly glide.
Awhile beneath the waves their tracks remain,
And burn in silver streams along the liquid plain;
Soon to the sport of death the crew repair,
Dart the long lance, or spread the bated snare.
One in redoubling mazes wheels along,
And glides, unhappy, near the triple prong.
Rodmond, unerring, o’er his head suspends
The barbed steel, and every turn attends:
Unerring aim’d, the missile weapon flew,
And plunging, struck the fated victim through.
The upturning points his pond’rous bulk sustain;
On deck he struggles with convulsive pain;
But while his heart the fatal javelin thrills,
And fleeting life escapes in sanguine rills,
What radiant changes strike the astonish’d sight,
What glowing hues of mingled shade and light!
No equal beauties gild the lucid west
With parting beams all o’er profusely dressed;
No lovelier colours paint the vernal dawn,
When orient dews impearl the enamell’d lawn;
Than from his sides in bright suffusion flow,
That now with gold empyreal seem to glow;
Now in pellucid sapphires meet the view,
And emulate the soft celestial hue;
Now beam a flaming crimson to the eye,
And now assume the purple’s deeper dye:
But here description clouds each shining ray;
What terms of art can Nature’s power display?”

Unfortunately for poetry, the beautiful colours of the dying Dolphin exist entirely in the fancy of the poet; as the Dolphin in a dying state displays no tints but black and white, and it is believed that the notion so prevalent among the ancients of the change of colour in this animal was derived from a true fish, the Dorado, which does exhibit this phenomenon.



THE WHITE WHALE. (Beluga leucas.)