“Come up here and pluck your breast!” she screamed. “Now is the time to keep some of your promises. Your eggs are lying bare and cold, while you are enjoying yourself down there, you wretch!”
But her voice died away in the noise of the wind and surf. No one heard her cries or beheld her despair. She remembered that the eggs were really getting cold, while she stood there, and she hurried back to the nest.
One of the eggs began to burst and soon a tiny beak peeped out of the hole in the shell. She now flew to help the little chap out. She stood gazing at him for a moment and saw what a darling he was. And then, like a mad thing, she began to pluck the last remaining feathers from her breast and every part of her and laid them round the little fellow. She ceased complaining and thought only of how she could make her children warm and comfortable.
5
Two days later, all the five young ones were out.
The young mother saw with pride how smart they were. Already, they stretched out their feet, which had a delicate web between the toes, yawned, lifted their little wings and even quacked a bit.
“You must go to the beach at once,” she said. “I am sure that there are no prettier children on the whole rock. But, should you meet your wretch of a father, mind you look the other way.”
She went down the rock and the five little ones followed so nimbly that it was a joy to see. Half-way down, she met her aunt:
“I was just coming up to see you,” said the old lady. “I say, what darlings your five children are!”