The eggs are deposited in the interior, and attach themselves to the grass and the sides of the nest. In due time swarms of tiny fishes fill this curious abode, and show a decided inclination to stray away. They are, however, watched and guarded by the parents, which drive them back when they wander too far from home.
This nest-building fish of the Sea of Galilee displays, however, a still more curious method of protection,—for in time of danger, the young are frequently taken into the capacious mouth of the male parent-fish, and thus guarded from harm. This habit is common to quite a number of fishes. An enormous cat-fish called the lan-lan, that sometimes attains a length of thirteen feet and a weight of over two hundred pounds, has been seen surrounded by a swarm of young, which upon the slightest alarm rushed into its open mouth for protection; and one of the largest of the South American fresh-water fishes, protects its young in the same way.
A SEA-HORSE AND ITS YOUNG.
The method of a curious South American fish, called the aspredo, is no less wonderful. The parent does not carry its eggs in its mouth, but fastens them to its body and fins, by means of stems or stalks; so that each egg has a sort of cradle to itself. As the fish rushes along, these swing to and fro, presenting the appearance of a number of barbels or bells.
A cat-fish at Panama has still another method of carrying its young. This is no less than a pouch, reminding us of a kangaroo. But the perfection of this paternal care—for it is the father that has the pouch—is observed in the sea-horses and pipe-fishes. These have a perfect pouch, into which the infant fishes are taken as soon as hatched, and in which they are carried about until they are able to make their own way in the world. A sea-horse in charge of its young is a very curious sight. The parent fastens its prehensile tail about some pieces of weed, and drives the young fry into the outer world, and soon a host of young sea-colts are seen moving along upright in the water by the curious screw movement of their dorsal or back fins, a body of them appearing like a tiny cloud in the water. The little creatures are so helpless that many of them—sometimes the entire brood—fall a prey to other fishes. They are, however, provided with a means of protection by their resemblance to plants. The pipe-fishes look much like the grass among which they live, and the sea-horses are often decorated with curious barbels and fringes that resemble the weeds under cover of which they hide themselves.
Among the fishes of the ocean that show a decided affection for their young, should be mentioned the curious Cyclopterus lumpus—the lump-fish, or "hen and chickens," so common upon the coast of Maine. The name "lump-fish" expresses the general appearance of this fish far better than a long description could, as the creature's body is covered with curious lumps and excrescences that add to the peculiarity of its appearance. The lump-fish is equally common on the English coast, and as the time for rearing a family approaches, it constructs from the sea-weed a rude nest for the protection of the eggs. These the watchful parents guard, their ugly forms, probably, having a decided effect upon all intruders, though, in truth, the lump-fishes are utterly incapable of harming any enemy, and, with their clumsy movements, are unable to catch other fishes in a chase. As soon as the young are hatched, they follow one of the parent-fishes, in a drove or herd, clustering about its head, now darting off, returning with a rush and cuddling under it, after the manner of small chickens seeking refuge under their mother's wings; hence the name of "hen and chickens" bestowed upon them by the English fishermen.
Though the lump-fishes are poor swimmers, and likely, if hurled among the breakers, to be thrown upon the shore, nature has provided them with ample means of protection. The lower fins join in such a way as to form a complete sucker, so that when in danger of being knocked about by the waves, the fish has merely to settle upon a rock, fasten its sucker-like fins to this, and ride out the gale or season of danger like a ship at anchor on a lee shore.