One would have thought that the absence of all communication with the ground ought to protect the graceful winged tribe from lightning; but no, the poor birds have received no mercy from this terrible adversary. All the same, lightning is less redoubtable for them than the sportsman's gun. It is very seldom that the kings of the air are the victims of the fire of Heaven, but they have another enemy, barbarous, unpardonable Man. Yes, the little earthly Jupiters are infinitely more terrible for the bird-world than the giant of the gods. They are rarely softened by the seductive grace, the elegance, and the delightful twittering of the charming inhabitants of space. In truth, one of the reasons why birds are so rarely struck in their flight is that they foresee the storm, and have the prudence to take shelter before it bursts. Amongst birds, sparrows are those which suffer most from the electric fluid. We sometimes find them hanging by their shrivelled claws from telegraph wires or from the branches of trees. But this latter is rather rare. They generally nest high in the trees, and lightning affects the branches much less than the trunk. We also hear of little caged birds being killed in their iron prison. One day a canary was in a cage with five others and was killed; the rest were unhurt. The spark was attracted by the metallic bars, and struck the canary, which was no doubt resting on iron. Fishes in their dark dwellings are no more privileged than other animals. They also frequently receive visits from the lightning, and their sad fate has often proved how dangerous it is to remain near a pool or pond during thunder. Moreover, why are we recommended always to put the conductor into a well, damp earth, or even into a small pond? It is because water conducts the electric substance admirably. We can understand that a vast space of liquid would be a good refuge for lightning, when, after having made several victims on earth, and fearing the vengeance of the conductors, it hurls itself into the water. More often it drowns itself, and in this it follows the example of the immortal Gribouille; but enough of that. The logic of lightning is still contestable. However that may be, many examples show us the dangers to which the denizens of rivers, and of the liquid element generally, are exposed. Not only are fishermen and sailors unanimous in attesting to the ravages wrought by lightning, but the history of electricity has preserved the recollection of memorable disasters, of veritable hecatombs of fish, which they attribute to the fire of heaven. Arago recounts that on September 17, 1772, lightning fell on the Doubs and killed all the pike and trout which were in the river. The water was soon covered with their corpses which floated, stomach upwards.