For many days they flew along the shores of the sound, now skimming low to dip their grey wings in the blue waves, flirting the spray high in silvery showers, or feeding along the beaches for little tender mussels or soft-shell clams, and playing tag with the funny little sandpipers who ran across the sands, and scattering them just for fun. At last they reached a desolate, rocky strip of coast, and after much flying about they finally settled upon a convenient cliff beneath which stretched a long line of sandy beach, while out beyond tumbled their dear, familiar breakers. Down below the cliff were jagged, brown rocks, over which trailed long, emerald green and brown sea kelp, where the water came in and out with the tides, leaving in the shallow places shoals of little fish, sea anemones, and starfish. Through these the gulls would pick their way daintily, with their pink, webbed feet, searching out the barnacles which clung to the rocks, pecking at tiny, sheltering shells where lurked sweet morsels to be had for the cracking.
The busy season came at last, however, and two young gulls had to be fed, so all day long Silver Wing and his mate foraged and fished for them. They brought young, tender herrings which the small gulls, as they grew older, would swallow at one gulp. Occasionally they carried shell-fish to the nest; these they would prepare for the young gulls by dropping them upon the rocks beneath and cracking the shells.
One day the mother gull chanced to be long away. Already had Silver Wing travelled alone, so many times back and forth from the nest to the water with food for the little gulls, that he began to think his mate was trying to leave all the work for him, and he actually grew indignant at the very thought of such an imposition. He resolved to hunt up his lazy mate and make her do her share. With wide, swift strokes of his grey wings he started off, scanning with his sharp eyes every flashing wing to make sure it was not his mate. In vain he flew far and wide, even across to the other beach, more than a mile away; still no trace of her could he find.
Finally he began to fly low over the beach, searching in and out among the little coves. At last he heard a shrill cry; plaintive and beseeching, and it belonged to his mate. With great, wide sweeps he soon reached her side. She was down upon the sandy beach and seemed to be fluttering wildly. As Silver Wing drew near he saw her trouble; she had been caught, and was being firmly held by one foot, by nothing less than a giant clam.
Meantime, slowly but surely the tide was coming in; each wave that broke upon shore swirled just a little closer to his trapped mate. Soon she must be caught by the tide, and, entrapped as she was, held as if in a vice by the giant shell-fish, she would surely drown.
At first Silver Wing rose in the air in bewilderment, calling wildly for his mate to join him, beating up and down the beach, hovering over her, then rising high in the air and screaming his commands. Still she did not follow him. At last the great gull seemed to have sized up the situation, and like a plummet he fell from the air and began a savage attack upon the hard shell of the clam. With his strong beak he hammered, while his mate continued to beat her wings helplessly upon the sand, screaming wildly.
Smash, smash, rang the beak of the gull, while in swirled the creeping tide, each time a little nearer the struggling gulls. It broke now in little foamy ripples close beside them. If the shell-fish failed to loosen its hold, the tide would soon cover them all. Down like a chisel came the strong beak of Silver Wing, while with his great webbed, sinewy feet he held the shell of the clam firmly, delivering his blows now always upon the one spot.
Another blow, still another. Would the great shell-fish never loosen its grip? Another ringing, cracking blow, and just as a larger wave came creeping stealthily inshore and broke over them, the giant clam loosened its awful hold upon the foot of the little mother gull, and the two birds with long, plaintive cries mounted into the free air. Dipping low just once over the incoming tide to snatch a herring from the waves in their beaks, away they flew swiftly back to the little gulls, who were impatiently awaiting their coming back upon the lonely ledges, far above the breakers.