The gulls have eyes like eagles, and they soon came swooping around tack and half-tack. Suddenly the line would be slackened, and almost to a certainty a bird would get entangled by the wings. He was drawn gently on board. If a foreign bird, he was immediately thrown into the air; if a British, he was allowed to run about the deck, for curiously enough they were unable to raise themselves on their wings, owing to the motion perhaps, which invariably made them sea-sick.
When about a dozen were captured, then one by one they were taken in hand and had a quill attached to them, then thrown up into the air.
Teenie never failed to kiss each bird on the poll, and sent all sorts of kind messages to her daddy and mammy, and they were to be sure to fly straight to Fisherton and deliver their letters.
But I feel certain that the prayers of every one on board went with those bonnie birds.
It is strange but true, that the gulls that had once been caught never returned to the Zingara again.
In less than two weeks no fewer than four hundred messages had been sent off.
“Surely,” thought our heroes, “one will be found.”
But Antonio when appealed to only answered—
“If it is God’s will, dearie, your plan will be successful.”
. . . . . .