hollow for their food before the
diver's hand was removed. They would follow him about, eyeing his
motions, dashing in advance or around in sport, and evidently with
a liking for their new-found friend. Pleased with such an unexpected
familiarity, the man would bring them food and feed them from his
hand, as one feeds a flock of chickens. The resemblance, in their
familiarity and some of their ways, to poultry was, in fact, very
striking. As a little chick will sometimes seize a large crumb and
scurry off, followed by the flock, so a fish would sometimes snatch a
morsel and fly, followed by the school. If he dropped it or stopped to
enjoy his _bonne bouche_, his mates would be upon him. Sometimes two
would get the same morsel, and there would be a trial of strength,
accompanied with much flash and glitter of shining scales. But no
matter how called off, their interest and curiosity remained with the
diver. They would return, pushing their noses about him, caressingly
in appearance if not intent, and bob into the treasures of worm and
shellfish his labor exposed. He became convinced that they were
sportive, indulging in dash and play for the fun of it, rather than
for any grosser object to be attained.

This curious intimacy was continued for weeks: the fish, unless driven
away by some rover of prey of their kind, were in regular attendance
during his hours of work. Perhaps the solitude and silence of that
curious submarine world strengthened the impression of recognition
and intimacy, but by every criterion we usually accept in terrestrial
creation these little creatures had an interest and a friendly feeling
for one who furnished them food, and who was always careful to avoid
injuring them or giving them any unnecessary alarm. He could not,
of course, take up a fish in his hand, any more than a chicken will
submit to handling; but as to the comparative tameness of the two,
the fish is more approachable than the chicken. That they knew and
expected the diver at the usual hour was a conclusion impossible
to deny, as also that they grew into familiarity with him, and were
actuated by an intelligent recognition of his service to them. It
would be hard to convince this gentleman that a school of fish cannot
be as readily and completely tamed as a flock of chickens.

Why not? The fear of man is no instinctive feeling in the invertebrate
creation. The pioneer who penetrates into the uninhabited wilds of
our Western frontie