Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1893-11-22
KILLIES AND THEIR FOES.

Not Only Fish, Wild Fowl, and Man, But
Even Chickens Devour Them.
''He doesn't mind little thing like
that" said the Deacon, kindly, as he
passed his hook through the skin
behind the back fin of the killie, and
cast minnow, hook and sinker the
length of his line to try the effect of a
fresh bait eff the snappers don't bite
any better than they've been dong,
he'll be swimming as lively as ever
when we pull up anchor to 90 home.
Look at those killies in the bait box.
Nothing damper about them than some
sea weed since morning, and they'll all
be ready to swim away, if they stay till
tomorrow.
"They're tough and hardy little fell
lows and no mistake" he continued,
lifting the seaweed to look admiringly
at the wriggling little stump-tailed fish
packed like sardines in the box They
seem to have been created for the good
of others. Everything preys on killies,
from men, who bait their hooks with
them or eat the minnOws as whitehall
down to the guils and herons and bass
and blackfsh and weaktish and fluke
and snappers that follow them among
the grass every full tide. And with all
this keeping after them they don't thin
them out that anyone can see. Why,
the very chickens along shore will run
from dough trough Tor the sake of eat
ing killies' eggs"
Hold on minute, Deacon" said
the reporter, who was the pious ma
riner's fishing companion that day. CT
grant all the rest you say, but please
explain how chickens manage to get at
the killies' eggs. If you'd said ducks
or geese, could understand it,"
"Chickens, | said, and chickens [
mean," returned the Deacon, severely.
LET me tell you something, and then
you'll know more, if you listen. | was
at John Cavanaugh's place at Canarsie
one day last summer, and among other
things was admiring his fine poultry as
they strutted about the premises. This
was high tide, mind you. Pretty soon,
happening to look up as we sat talking
on the veranda, there was not a fowl to
be seen except two or three short-legged
ones on the full run, who acted as if
they might be following the others in
the direction of the beach.
"'Where are your fowls running to,
john | asked. Are they off for sea
bath :?
"'Not a bit of it, said Cavanaugh,
laughing; they're hunting kilIies' eggs.
W Oulu you llhC W St6 HOW bIlGN w IL
Come on then.
$50 we went down to the beach,
which the tide was just beginning to
leave bare. All along the narrow strip
of wet sand the chickens, forty or fifty
of them, were running to and fro, peck
ing into the sand and then lifting their
heads to swallow. They worked as if
they were there for business, and
meant to lose no time. AS more of the
beach kept coming into view, they
spread out SO as to cover more space,
and ran and peCked the faster.
'Then Cavanaugh scraped away the
sand little and showed me where the
killies had spawned as they came in on
the rising tide. The eggs were scattered
about, just below the surface of the
beach, in little yellow clusters, each
containing | don't know how many
embryo killies. But | do know that /
had found out how those chickens were
keeping in Thanksgiving order in Au-
gust; it was all owing to the killies' eggs
they picked up between turns of tide.
But in spite Of all these setbacks a
a good many kilIes seem to hatch out,
and they get on swimmingly." And
the Deacon chuckled at his little joke
as he pulled up his line to see whether
it was a blue crab or a sea robin that
had been fOOling with his bait.