Owing to the element which fishes inhabit, little is known about their courtship, and not much about their battles. The male stickleback (_Gasterosteus leiurus_) has been described as “mad with delight” when the female comes out of her hiding-place and surveys the nest which he has made for her. “He darts round her in every direction, then to his accumulated materials for the nest, then back again in an instant; and as she does not advance he endeavours to push her with his snout, and then tries to pull her by the tail and side-spine to the nest.”[2] The males are said to be polygamists;[3] they are extraordinarily bold and pugnacious, whilst “the females are quite pacific.” Their battles are at times desperate; “for these puny combatants fasten tight on each other for several seconds, tumbling over and over again, until their strength appears completely exhausted.” With the rough-tailed stickleback (_G. trachurus_) the males whilst fighting swim round and round each other, biting and endeavouring to pierce each other with their raised lateral spines. The same writer adds,[4] “the bite of these little furies is very severe. They also use their lateral spines with such fatal effect, that I have seen one during a battle absolutely rip his opponent quite open, so that he sank to the bottom and died.” When a fish is conquered, “his gallant bearing forsakes him; his gay colours fade away; and he hides his disgrace among his peaceable companions, but is for some time the constant object of his conqueror’s persecution.” The male salmon is as pugnacious as the little stickleback; and so is the male trout, as I hear from Dr. Günther. Mr. Shaw saw a violent contest between two male salmons which lasted the whole day; and Mr. R. Buist, Superintendent of Fisheries, informs me that he has often watched from the bridge at Perth the males driving away their rivals whilst the females were spawning. The males “are constantly fighting and tearing each other on the spawning-beds, and many so injure each other as to cause the death of numbers, many being seen swimming near the banks of the river in a state of exhaustion, and apparently in a dying state.”[5] The keeper of the Stormontfield breeding-ponds visited, as Mr. Buist informs me, in June, 1868, the northern Tyne, and found about 300 dead salmon, all of which with one exception were males; and he was convinced that they had lost their lives by fighting. [Illustration: Fig. 26. Head of male of common salmon (_Salmo salar_) during the breeding-season. (This drawing, as well as all the others in the present chapter, have been executed by the well-known artist, Mr. G. Ford, under the kind superintendence of Dr. Günther, from specimens in the British Museum.)]