I have written this paper in the hope that it may do good practical service in obtaining for our Crystal Palace Aquarium many marine animals from. the splendid aquarium now being constructed, with my help, at Naples; and I trust that Dr. Anton Dohrn, its owner, will soon send us many more animals (in the moist way), in addition to those which-aided by the kindness of shipowners, captains and crews- we have already received from him in water. Dr. Dohrn might re-commence with Mediterranean sea-anemones and crabs, as I believe many of them will survive the overland journey by using care and avoiding large packages. Several packages made up into one is the right plan; and for anemones and some other animals, baskets like our shrimp-baskets, třed six in one, would do very well, I think.

Osphromenus is an oriental fish (Indian, I believe), of which more than one has been brought alive to, and kept at, the Regent's Park Zoological Gardens. I do not know the circumstances of its transmission, nor anything of its habits in England; but, as it belongs to the same family as the "climbing perch" (Anabas scandens), I think that, most likely, like the latter fish, its anatomy permits its occasionally living for considerable periods when not actually immersed in water, and of thus being easily sent to long distances. Anabas is provided with an arrangement enabling it to retain a quantity of water for the use of its gills when it is on dry land.

There is another creature (Protopterus or Lepidosiren) which, if a fish, is very closely allied to reptiles, but which in an aquarium is fish-like in its habit of remaining always below the surface of water, and which, if it had to be brought from its home in Africa immersed in a bulk of water, its transport would be so difficult that we should never see it alive in England. But it has been brought in a living state to Britain and to Germany, several times, because in its native haunts it lives in ponds liable to be dried by the sun, and then the creature rolls itself up into a compact ball of mud (hence it is called the "mud-fish"), which becomes hard and dry, yet containing the very small quantity of moisture and oxygen necesfor the animal's almost suspended animation and exceedingly slow breathing, and in this way, the means of oxygenating its gills being readily conveyed about with it, the animal can be sent from one continent to another, easily. On obtaining it, I have gently

sary

broken away the indurated clay or mud and let the contained Protopterus drop into water at a temperature of about 70° F., when it has at once began to swim about as if nothing had happened. But having thus assumed so far the condition of a fish, and having no necessity to again enter a clay prison, it would be exceedingly difficult (I think) to send it back to Africa in water, as its conditions of existence have become quite changed. It would take far too great a space to narrate the instances of my having sent animals of various kinds, marine and fresh-water, of many of the hardy kinds, to various parts of the world, overland and by sea, and of my having received many from similar places; but now, having so good a correspondent as Dr. Dohrn, I hope he will send us many more, he being a good packer.

I find it hard to conclude, however, without telling of one little aquarium brought from Curacoa, in the most perfect manner possible. It consisted of a quart glass jar, its height being twice its breadth. It was half full of sea-water, unchanged during its transit to Hamburg, and six specimens of the mollusk Trochus arrived there in perfect condition, and were kept in the same jar of unchanged water for two years. On the voyage they climbed up the side of the jar, and there had the wash of the water, and they fed on the Algae which grew quasi-spontaneously. But when large animals must be sent long distances in water, as, e. g., Lithodes arctica from Hammerfest, in Norway, to the Crystal Palace, the trouble and cost are enormous, implying for a dozen of these crabs two casks each containing one hundred and twenty gallons of sea-water, with many changes on the voyage and careful supervision all along. If they could be sent in the moist way, their expense would be less than a tenth of what it now is.

In lately reading some observations by Milne-Edwards and Audouin on crabs, I notice that in almost every instance they give accounts of habits only of species which live much out of water and do not need an aquarium for their maintenance.

But about these horse-shoe crabs which I caused to be thrown into the sea, how can I help writing, "Cast thy crabs upon the waters; for thou shalt find them after many days."

Crystal Palace, January 5, 1874.

W. A. LLOYD.

Ornithological Notes from North Lincolnshire.
By JOHN CORDEAUX, Esq.

(Continued from S. S. 3782).

NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER, 1873.

Wind

Common and Jack Snipe.-November 2nd. Many both common and jack snipe arrived in the marshes about this date. E.N.E.

Tree Sparrow. This has been a most abundant species throughout the autumn. I see flocks, often containing several hundreds, almost each day, both amongst the hedges of the enclosed portions of the parish, as well as on the stubbles in the open marshes. They feed on scattered grain and various small seeds. Many

I notice come to roost in the evening into the plantations, particularly those containing spruce. They do not resort much to the neighbourhood of houses or buildings, keeping, as a rule, to the open fields, woods and hedges. We sometimes, however, take an odd bird or two along with the common species in the sparrow-net from the stack-sides and the ivy on the walls of the house.

Peregrine Falcon.-Nov. 14th. Almost every autumn and winter I come across the peregrine beating for prey in the marshes or along the coast. One this morning swooped at a curlew, singling it out from a flock of six or seven. The falcon missed his stoop and did not renew it, flying off in a straight line, without making any further attempt to molest the birds, they on their part setting up the most hideous "caterwauling" and outcry I have heard for some time.

Fieldfare.-Nov. 14th. There have been large arrivals of these northern thrushes during the past week, and many large flocks have gone inland from our marshes.

Redwing.-Nov. 14th. I have noticed during the last ten days larger and more numerous flocks of redwings in this parish than has been the case since the severe winter of 1860-61.

Knot.-Nov. 7 and 8. Immense flocks arrived on the muddy foreshores of the river, probably the main body on their southern autumn migration, as they only remained a few days, during which time they were excessively wild and wary. On the 2nd December, on the North Cotes coast, there was the largest assemblage of knots I have seen for many years. One flock alone, when on the wing, extended not less than six hundred yards, flying at first in tolerably

compact order in a narrow column, the size, shape and length of which, however, kept perpetually changing. As the tide rose and covered the sands and "fitties" the knots congregated by thousands on two small sand-banks, uncovered for some time after the rest of the shore was submerged, and the tide washed the foot of the embankment. With a powerful binocular I could perceive no space left uncovered by birds; the appearance was that of two dark islands or banks resting on the sea; and these before the flocks took flight grew darker and more crowded in appearance as their many-feathered tenants drew in from the circumference towards the centre. They rose at last gradually, towering upwards like a column of smoke, with the roar and flicker of many thousand wings, sweeping away in a long undulating dark cloud, over the gray sea, to seek some distant and yet uncovered sand-bank on shore. Abundant as the knot is at certain times on our Lincolnshire coast, it is almost impossible to get within shooting distance of their vast flocks without resorting to stratagem. A frequent, and occasionally successful, plan adopted by our gunners is to lie down dressed in yellow oilskin, in some slight cavity on the sands, and then to jump up suddenly and fire as a flock passes over. To follow them on foot is hopeless, the distances are so great, the coast stretching away for miles like a sandy desert, and then there is always the risk of getting surrounded by the flowing tide, a risk which even the most careful and experienced gunner is liable to if he allows himself to be carried away by the ardour of the chase.

Snow Bunting.-Nov. 17th. To-day, in a twenty-six acre stubble near the embankment, was a flock of four to five hundred snow buntings, mainly immature birds, the proportion of adults being about one in eight or ten. It was a beautifully bright, clear and sunny day, and a prettier sight could scarce be seen than the varied plumage and lively graceful gambols (for so I may express it) of these little creatures. The air was alive with their musical twitterings, as they flew round and round the field, sometimes sweeping close past me, chasing and toying together, dashing to and fro in the most erratic manner, with many a make-believe attempt at alighting, which, only ended in a renewal of activity; they were evidently in a most joyous and happy mood. My setter was a great source of attraction; they swept downwards over the dog's head, almost brushing him with their wings, and then would burst forth such a chorus of mellow tinkling music as might signify either

anger or surprise. Snow buntings continued to arrive in large numbers up to the middle of November, at which time the unploughed stubbles swarmed with them, and they far outnumbered all our other small birds put together. On the 19th I estimated one flock alone to contain one thousand birds, and saw other assemblies during the day of nearly equal size. They are very fond of alighting on fields of newly-sown grain, and with this brown background are very conspicuous, as each bird invariably chooses the top of a clod as a perch. They very rarely perch on bushes, indeed, this is most exceptional, and I can only recall two instances where it has fallen under my observation, and these only by individual birds and not by flocks. On the 10th of December, lying concealed behind a bank in one of the pastures, the better to pounce upon a trespassing gunner, some hundreds of snow buntings pitched close to me, and not a dozen yards away. Familiar as I am with these little birds, I was greatly struck with the very remarkable uniformity in their appearance. All had their heads in one direction, and although individuals differed in a lighter or darker shade of plumage, all had the colours disposed, or laid on, in three very distinct horizontal stripes, very plain and well defined, as if put on with a brush: they reminded me irresistibly of the coloured individuals in a Noah's Ark. This is not nearly so apparent when the bird is in hand, and a flock of living birds must be seen at close quarters to notice the peculiarity. The little snow bunting has always been a great favourite of mine: they are ever lively, even in the roughest and most ungenial weather; their cheery note and the flickerings of so many variegated wings go far to enliven and light up the otherwise dull and dreary landscape of the wintry marsh they have come so far to visit us, and flown so long over stormy seas, from little known lands-bleak Tundras and wild treeless shores washed with the waves of arctic seas.

Golden Plover.-Nov. 22nd. Saw the first large flock of golden plovers, probably owing to the fine season and general dryness of the marshes, they have not visited us nearly in such numbers as is usually the case.

Heron. December 2nd. I saw a group of thirteen herons this morning; they stood in various and picturesque attitudes on an elevated portion of the immense sandy level of this coast. The day was thick, hazy and warm, and the birds loomed as big as storks, appearing nearly twice their natural size. All objects seen