I commanded them sternly to leave off their wailing and groaning, for I saw that the great black cloud was simply an enormous flock of birds, of what species I could not then tell.
Nearer and nearer they came, with the sound like the rushing of wild winds.
They covered the whole sky like an inky pall.
It was evident to me that they intended alighting upon the shore of the Caldron, and fearing lest their immense numbers, in settling down, might smother us, I called out to my men to stand by the ship’s launch.
There was no time to lose.
For, as we pushed out from the shore, tens of thousands of these birds—a species of crow, but twice the size of those at home—began to settle down in long rows as far as the eye could reach.
For the first, now I noticed that every crow held something in its claws. I looked again, and saw that each of these birds carried an immense mollusk, fully as large as a watchman’s club and something the same shape. Imagine my mingled surprise and amusement upon observing that those in the first row were now making for the water’s edge. Approaching cautiously, each crow thrust his mollusk into the shoal waters of the Caldron and stood by, with eyes sparkling with joyful anticipation, to watch for results.
He had not long to wait.
Unaccustomed to the great heat of the water, the mollusk soon began to open its shell, first cautiously, but as the hot water poured in upon it, with great precipitation, fairly with a snap. Waiting for a moment or so until the hot water had curled the animal quite free from its shell, the fastidious birds then partook of the savory contents, gave a few caws of grateful acknowledgement, and withdrew to make room for the next row. This changing places, cooking of provisions and feasting lasted for half a day.
By that time the entire flock had exhausted its raw material. Then with deafening cries and loud flapping of pinions, these feathered epicures rose into the air and disappeared as they had come.