"At the season of their descent from the mountains, the natives of the islands which they inhabit, eagerly wait for them and destroy them in thousands. On their descent they are only taken for the roe or spawn, the flesh being then poor and lean: on their return from the sea-side they are in greatest repute, being then fat and high flavoured.
"The crab-catchers adopt various modes of securing them, but they are obliged to be very cautious, for when the animals perceive themselves attacked, they throw themselves on their back, and snap their claws about, pinching whatever they lay hold of very severely. The crab-catchers, however, soon learn to seize them by the hind legs, in such a manner as that the nippers cannot reach them."
"You said, Uncle Thomas, that the fishes watched the descent of the crabs, that they might feed on the spawn. Do you think that they are endowed with reasoning powers, as well as the higher classes of animals, Uncle Thomas?"
"No doubt of it, Frank. Old Isaac Walton, the most amusing author on angling who ever wrote, tells many curious stories about fishes, of their coming to be fed at the sound of a bell, and so forth.
"Many fishes exhibit the migratory instinct quite as distinctly as those animals which I have just told you about. The salmon leaves the sea, and seeks its way up the rivers, stemming their most rapid currents, and scaling highest waterfalls with a pertinacity which can only be the result of an instinct implanted in them by their Creator."
"And the herring, Uncle Thomas; does not it come every year from the Polar seas to spawn on our shores? I read a very interesting account of their progress southwards somewhere lately."
"I can tell you where, Frank; I will show it you, and when you have read it aloud, I will point out one or two mistakes, which it is as well to clear your mind of. It is in old Pennant's work; here it is; will you read it to us, John?"
"With pleasure, Uncle Thomas.
"This mighty army begins to put itself in motion in the spring. They begin to appear off the Shetland Islands in April and May. This is the first check this army meets in its march southward. There it is divided into two parts; one wing of those destined to visit the Scottish coast takes to the east, the other to the western shores of Great Britain, and fill every bay and creek with their numbers; others proceed towards Yarmouth, the great and ancient mart of herrings; they then pass through the British channel, and after that in a manner disappear. Those which take to the west, after offering themselves to the Hebrides, where the great stationary fishery is, proceed towards the north of Ireland, where they meet with a second interruption and are obliged to make a second division; the one takes to the western side and is scarcely perceived, being soon lost in the immensity of the Atlantic, but the other, which passes into the Irish sea, rejoins, and feeds the inhabitants of most of the coasts that border on it. The brigades, as we call them, which are separated from the greater columns, are often capricious in their motions, and do not show an invariable attachment to their haunts."
"Thank you, John. Now all this sounds very fine, and seems very systematic. It has but one objection—it is quite untrue. It is in the first place more than doubtful if the herring frequents the Polar seas at all; and in the second place, the most distinguished naturalists are of opinion that it never leaves the neighbourhood of our own shores, but merely retires to the deep water after it has spawned, and there remains till the return of another season calls it again to the shores to undergo a similar operation. So you see, Frank, it does not follow that an interesting account of an animal's habits is necessarily a true one."