The sociologist, however, may see much to interest
and instruct him in the curious group of individualities
which constitute.the passengers on an ocean steamship.
Thrown so close together, with no outside news of the
world, we notice each other’s peculiarities and expose
our own. South Africa is now not only a health resort
for the invalid, and a campaigning ground for the commercial
traveller, but its gold-fields attract those spirits
of enterprise and speculation who wait on fortune and
scorn laborious days. By the side of the sufficiently
opulent man of weak constitution who can afford the
time and money incidental to a trip for health, is the
commercial traveller who now carries his samples through
the colonies as he once “ worked” the United Kingdom,
and starts for the Cape with little more preparation than
he would have previously made for a journey to the
North of England. Church of England curates—who
take precedence on Sundays—and members of High
Anglican Sisterhoods sail along with highly educated
and less educated dissenting ministers. Forward our
hardy mechanic, “ whose bones were made in England,”
who will carry his handicraft, his energy, and also his
love of “ wholesome beer ” to a colony that will be
certainly the richer for his first two qualifications, rubs
shoulders with the lower form of Israelite, who does
not compliment his race, who may possibly buy “ illicit
diamonds,” or even succeed to the greater height of
assisting in the promotion of a bogus gold company.
All, however, are “ hail, good fellows, well met,” on
board, and though saloon, second-class, and steerage
are a little timorous of each other afloat, the distinctions
are not so accentuated as on shore. It is in these
migratory assemblies that one may study the evolution
of a colony.
There is little opportunity for a naturalist on board a
fast steamer; and for one who has travelled the ocean
before, the animals met are much the same. But after
twenty years the sight of a flying-fish is a renewed
delight. We first met with the genus—for there are
several species—near Madeira, and here ExocoBtus*
lineatns, the largest species, is found ; further south the.
flying-fish are more numerous, but smaller in size. _ Ihis
fish is certainly the most prolific of any to be found in the
warmer parts of the ocean, and its numbers are simply
prodigious. All day, and presumably all night, as the
vessel ploughs its course, it constantly disturbs and
disperses the fish, which in these parts must universally
populate the surface waters. I have frequently spent
considerable time looking over the bows of vessels, and
watched the almost incessant flight of the frightened
creatures as the ship, like a monstrous enemy, tore
through their midst. In recent years much attention
has been paid to the question as to whether these
Exocostans flap their wings during flight, or simply
skim with expanded wings from the initial velocity
with which they leave the water. My own observations
certainly incline to the last opinion, and that the
rising of the fish was coincident with a rapid movement
of the tail, which always more or less reminded one of
the action of the blade of a steamer’s screw. This can
also be frequently observed when the fish at the end of
its flight apparently observes a lurking enemy 'j', and
just touching the water, the action of its tail can be
again noticed preparatory to a fresh escape from the
sea. There, can be little doubt that the flight of this
fish is always of a protective character, and is scarcely
undertaken for any pleasure or relaxation. A ship
must appear as a hideous monster, and add to the many
terrors in the lives of these abundant animals: some are
more alarmed than others, for many of them will again
take to the water but a short distance from the vessel,
* This generic name is derived from a curious belief of the ancients, who
were under the impression that these" “ sea swallows,” as they called the
flying-fishes, left the ocean at night and slept on shore, in order to be free
from their enemies. From this practice of “ sleeping out” they were named
Exocceti. . ■
t Figafetta witnessed this in 1520, and quaintly wrote: “ Meanwhile
their enemies follow their shadow, and arriving at the spot where they fall,
seize upon them and devour them—a thing marvellous and agreeable to see.”
B 2