The Strife of the Sea

by T. Jenkins Hains

To the westward, across the strait, the fires from the hills where the savages dwelt shone in the gloom of the twilight. They were attractive, and often he would sit and watch them in the growing gloom of the long winter evenings after he had come ashore from a day’s fishing, wondering at the creatures who made them. The light was part of his mental enjoyment, and sometimes, after looking for an hour or more, he would raise his head, which had a long, sharp beak, and, with lungs full of air, let forth a wild, lonely cry. For days and days he would come and go, seeing no companions save the raucous whale-birds who would come in on the rock and who had no sympathy with his fishing. They were mere parasites, and depended upon the great animals to show them their food.

As the months passed and the sun began to stay longer above the horizon, he became more and more lonesome. A longing for companionship came upon him, and he would sit and gaze at the fires across the strait until he gave vent to his feelings with his voice.

One day, when the sun shone brightly, he came upon the ledge and rested. He was not very tired, but the sun was warm and the bright rays were trying to his eyes after the long gloom of the winter. The ragged mountains stood up clearly from across the strait, but the fires would not shine in the sunlight. He stood looking for a time, and then broke forth into a long-drawn call. To his astonishment an answering note came sounding over the water. He repeated his cry and listened. From far away in the sunshine a weird cry was wafted across the sea. It thrilled him. He was not afraid, for the cry was one of yearning, and he wanted companionship. He sat and waited until he saw a small object on the rise of a swell. It came nearer, and then he saw it was one of his own race, and dived into the sea and went to meet the stranger.

How smooth was the newcomer’s coat and how white the breast! He looked the female over critically, and a strange feeling of companionship pervaded his being. Then he went toward her and greeted her, sidling up and rubbing his head against her soft neck and swimming around her in circles. The sun shone brightly and the air was warm. The very joy of life was in him, and he stretched forth his head and called and called to the ledges and reefs, sea and sky, to bear witness that he would no longer live alone, but would thenceforth take the beautiful stranger with him and protect her. He climbed upon the ledge, she following, and, proud as a peacock, strutted back and forth in his enjoyment of her good will and comradeship.

They strayed about the rocks and swam in the sheltered places among the reefs for a few days, but a desire to go into the great world to the southward and make a snug home for the coming summer began to make him restless. The warm sunshine made life a joy in spite of the thick coating of fat and feathers, and the high cliffs of Tierra del Fuego seemed to offer a tempting abode for the warmer months. His pretty companion shared his joy, and also his desire to go out into the great sea to the southward and find a suitable place on some rock or ledge where they could make a home.

They started off shore one morning and swam side by side for many leagues, skirting the sheer and dangerous Horn and meeting many more couples who, like themselves, were looking for a suitable place for a summer sojourn while the bright sun should last. They met a vast crowd of their kind making an inner ledge of the Ramirez their stopping-place, and there they halted. It was pleasant to be sociable when united to a proud companion, and they went among the throng until they found a place on the rocks where they could climb ashore easily. Our friend led the way up the slope and found a level spot among the stones where his mate could sit and be near the tide. She would lay her eggs there, and he would take care that she fared well.

Weeks passed and two white shells shone in marked contrast to the surrounding stones and gravel. His mate had laid two beautiful eggs, and her care for them kept him busy fishing for two. Yet he was very happy. He would make short trips to the outlying reef and seize a fish. Then he would hurry home with it, and together they would eat it while his mate sat calmly upon the eggs, keeping them warm and waiting for the first “peep” to show the entrance into this world of her firstborn. All about, the other couples had their nests, consisting only of the bare stones, for there was no drift or weed out there to use, and they sat in great numbers close enough to call to each other in case a marauding albatross or mollemoke should come in from the sea and try to steal eggs.

Day after day he fished and brought his mate the spoils, often sitting on the eggs himself while she took a plunge into the cold water for exercise and change. He was satisfied and the world was bright with the joy of life.

One day his mate waddled quickly from the nest. Where before there had been two shining white eggs, two little yellow puff-balls lay on the stones, and they made a noise that showed him his offspring were strong and healthy young ones. He strutted up and down the ledge, proud and straight, while his mate gave forth cries of satisfaction and nestled down again to give the delicate little ones shelter. He almost forgot to go fishing, and only a call from his patient mate recalled him to the fact that she must be fed. He stepped down the rocks, and, as he dived into the sea, cried aloud for joy.

Out near the Ramirez the fish were playing in the sunshine. He made his way thither, his breast high with the happiness of his existence. Other fowl were there fishing. He joined them, but gave no heed to a long object that came slowly over the water from the land of fire. It headed toward the cliffs where the sea fowl dwelt, and two half-naked savages propelled it with paddles. They were hunting for eggs, and the rocks offered a tempting place to land, for the great crowd of birds told plainly of the summer breeding-place. They ran the canoe into a sheltered spot among the rocks where the heave of the sea was slight, and then sprang ashore. Up they climbed and stood upon the level where the penguin females sat and called wildly for their mates.