ate food.

Thus ends Chapter I. of our story. Chapter II. is scarcely less
interesting. The deep sea is the eel's nursery; not deep sea in the
ordinary sense, but so deep that no light penetrates. Here, in the
stillness and darkness that exceeds that of the darkest night, these
little children of Neptune pass their earliest days. By the time they
have reached the elver stage, they have made their way, guided only by
instinct, from the deep sea to the surface, and thence to the mouths of
rivers; these they ascend in millions, and in their endeavour to get
into fresh water, they have to overcome obstacles such as would deter
most boys and girls. They climb vertical walls and flood-gates, and even
leave the water and wriggle their way overland at night amid the dewy
grass till they come to water again. Such migrations have long been
known as 'Eel-fairs,' and fishermen at this time take them by the ton.
In 1886, for example, more than three tons were taken from the
Gloucester district. Now, it takes upwards of fourteen thousand baby
eels to weigh a pound; how many eels are there in three tons? There is a
sum for you! Those that escape grow up to furnish the 'eel-pies' and
stewed eels which some people find so toothsome. In 1885 the annual
consumption of eels was estimated to be at least one thousand six
hundred and fifty tons, with a total value of 130,000_l._

[Illustration: Eels.]

[Illustration: Stages in Growth of young Eel.]

This story would not be complete without Chapter III. This concerns the
eel's parents, and it is not without a note of sadness. After living
several years in the security of the nice warm mud at the bottom of our
quiet streams, they suddenly become seized with the desire to make their
way to the sea--a journey full of danger, and full of mystery, for since
their ascent as tiny elvers, they have lived apart from the great world
of the ocean, and all that it contains. Now they set out, and fishermen,
knowing well the time of this journey, spread nets along the route into
which thousands rush. Other fish prey on them, and as soon as they reach
salt water their enemies increase a hundredfold. Only a remnant reach
their destination, and then, after having laid their eggs, fall into a
deep sleep from which there is no awakening.

[Illustration: Eel Traps.]

Surely this story is more wonderful than all the yarns of former days,
be they ever so old. Truth _is_ stranger than fiction, and much more
b