The Swan and the Fawn. Swans are said to be spiteful at times, and to show a savagery of temper on occasion, for which, as in the following case, it is difficult to account. "In the park of Lord Grantley at Wonersh, near Guildford, a fawn, drinking, was suddenly pounced upon by one of the swans, which pulled the animal into the water, and held it under until quite drowned. This action was observed by the other deer in the park, and did not long go unrevenged; for shortly after, this very swan, which had hitherto never been molested by the deer, was singled out when on land, and furiously attacked by a herd, which surrounded and killed it."
The Common Sea-Gull. The Gulls are a numerous family, the Common Gull, the Herring Gull, the Great Black-Backed Gull and the Ivory Gull being well known species. The Common Gull is found everywhere. It frequents the coasts of continents and islands and feeds principally upon fish, though its voracity is very accommodating, and its taste not over fastidious.
A Tame Sea-Gull Many years ago, Mr. Scot, of Benholm, near Montrose, caught a sea-gull, and having cut its wings put it into his garden. The bird remained in this situation for several years, and being kindly treated, became so familiar, as to come at call to be fed at the kitchen door and to answer to the name of Willie. It became so tame at last that no pains were thought necessary to circumscribe its liberty, and its wings having grown to full length, it flew away, joined the other gulls on the beach, and came back, from time to time, to pay a visit to the house. When its companions left the country at the usual season, Willie accompanied them, much to the regret of the family. To their great joy, however, it returned next season; and with its usual familiarity came to its old haunt, where it was welcomed and fed very liberally. In this way it went and returned for forty years, without intermission, and kept up its acquaintance with the family, for while in the country it visited them almost daily, answered to its name like any domestic animal, and ate almost out of the hand. One year, however, very near the period of its final disappearance, Willie did not pay his respects to the family for eight or ten days after the general flock of gulls were upon the coast, and great was their lamentation for his loss, as it was feared he was dead: but to the surprise and joy of the family, a servant one morning came running into the breakfast-room with delight, announcing that Willie was returned. The whole company rose from the table to welcome the bird. Food was supplied in abundance, and Willie with his usual frankness ate of it heartily, and was as tame as any barn-yard fowl about the house. In a year or two afterwards this grateful bird disappeared for ever.
Mother Carey's Chicken. The Stormy Petrel or Mother Carey's Chicken, is a small black bird well known to mariners, and familiar to all at sea in stormy weather. It follows in the wake of ships and is regarded as a prophet of evil, at least in so far as stormy weather is concerned. It is seen in many parts of the ocean busily engaged in searching for food, braving the fury of the storm and skimming along the waves, sometimes above their tops, and sometimes screening itself from the blast by sinking down into the billows between them. It nests in all but inaccessible places, the Island of St. Kilda being the chief British breeding place of the Fulmar variety. These are of great importance to the natives who run great risks in searching for their eggs and who catch the birds for the purposes of food, and for the oil which they supply.
Catching the Stormy Petrel. The danger attaching to the capture of the Petrel in its rocky haunts in the Hebrides is thus vividly described by Mr. Drosier. "As the stormy petrel, is scarcely ever to be seen near the land, except in very boisterous weather, one of the natives for a trifling remuneration, agreed to traverse the face of a rock, and take me some from out its fissures. Accordingly, accoutred with a rope of hemp and hogs' bristles coiled over his shoulders, he proceeded to the cliff. Having made one end fast by means of a stake, he threw the coil over the face of the rock, and gradually lowered himself down, but with the utmost caution and circumspection, carefully pressing his foot hard upon the narrow ridges before he at all loosened his firm grasp of the rope, which he never altogether abandoned. I had previously thrown myself upon my chest, to enable me to have a better view of him, by looking over the cliff; and, certainly, to see the dexterity and bravery with which he threw himself from one aperture to another, was truly grand. The tumbling roar of the Atlantic was foaming many hundreds of feet beneath, and dashing its curling cream-like surge against the dark base of the cliff, in sheets of the most beautiful white; while the herring and black-backed gulls, alternately sweeping past him so as to be almost in reach of his arm, threw a wildness into the scene, by the discordant scream of the former, and the laughing, oft-repeated bark of the latter. This, however, he appeared entirely to disregard; and continuing his search, returned in about half an hour, with seven or eight of the stormy petrels, tied up in an old stocking, and a pair of the Manks puffins, together with their eggs. The birds, he told me, he had no difficulty in capturing. The eggs of the stormy petrel are surprisingly large, considering the diminutive size of the bird, being as large as those of the thrush. The female lays two eggs, of a dirty or dingy white, encircled at the larger end by a ring of fine rust-coloured freckles. The birds merely collect a few pieces of dried grass, with a feather or two, barely sufficient to prevent the eggs from rolling or moving on the rock."
The Cormorant. The Common Cormorant is familiar all round the coast of England, and will even sometimes venture inland or at any rate up the mouths of rivers. Captain Brown mentions one that, many years ago, was seen resting upon the vane of St. Martin's steeple, Ludgate Hill, London; and was shot in the presence of a large number of people. It is a voracious bird and shows great dexterity in the catching and swallowing of fish, turning them round so as to swallow them head foremost, in order to avoid the resistance of the fins and spines. Colonel Montague had one, caught in a tributary of the Bristol Channel, by a Newfoundland dog, which at first refused food but offered no resistance to being crammed. "The Colonel having retired to the library after seeing the bird fed," says Captain Brown, "was surprised in a few minutes to see it walk boldly into the room, unceremoniously place itself by him at the side of the fire, and begin to dress its feathers. This practice it continued till removed to an aquatic menagerie. Whenever it saw the water it became restless, and on being set at liberty, plunged into it, and incessantly dived for a considerable time in search of fish. After this, it seemed to be convinced that there were none to be found there, as it was not noticed to dive again for three days."
The Albatross. The great Albatross is a large and powerful bird, measuring three feet in length and having a stretch of wing of from nine to twelve or fourteen feet. It is a heavy bird, and needs great strength to sustain its weight during its long and rapid flights. Mrs. Bowdich says, "One was known to follow a ship, which made two hundred miles a day, for forty-eight hours; and besides these miles, from its irregular flight, it must have passed over a much longer distance. The Albatross darts with unerring aim and great force on its prey, as it swims on the top of the waves. A man who fell overboard near the island of St. Paul's was killed by these birds; for, although the boat was lowered immediately, nothing was found of him except his hat, pierced through and through by the beaks of three albatrosses, who had marked him, pecked him on the head, and caused him to sink." Their flight is easy and apparently performed without effort and with an almost imperceptible movement of wing. The Albatross is easily caught from the stern of a ship with a hook. Mr. Wood says: "It seems rather remarkable that a bird that lives in or over the sea during its whole life, should prove a landsman when taken on board. Yet, when the Albatross is caught and placed on deck, it begins to stagger about, and soon becomes as thoroughly sea sick as the most inexperienced cockney." Mr. Earl thus describes the haunt of the Albatross in the heights of the Island of Tristan d'Acunha: "A death-like stillness prevailed in these high regions, and to my ear our voices had a strange unnatural echo, and I fancied our forms appeared gigantic, whilst the air was piercing cold. The prospect was altogether sublime, and filled the mind with awe. The huge Albatross here appeared to dread no interloper or enemy; for their young were on the ground completely uncovered, and the old ones were stalking around them."
The Pelican. The Pelican is one of the largest of swimming birds. It is distinguished by the possession of a pouch which is capable of holding two gallons of water, and which it uses for the purposes of catching fish, and feeding its young. In this latter operation the bird presses its pouch which hangs beneath its beak, against its breast, and so disgorges its contents. This action is said to have given rise to the fable that pelicans pluck nourishment from their own breasts to feed their young. The Pelican belongs to the South and East of Europe and the North of Africa.
A Tame Pelican. Mr. Hill, of St. Domingo, gives an interesting account of a tame pelican which is quoted by Mrs. Bowdich. He says:—"The facility with which the pelican resigns itself to fasting or feasting, was very interestingly exhibited to me in a bird I saw the other day at Passage Fort. It was a pelican of mature age; it flew backwards and forwards, visiting the wild flocks, and feeding with them in the harbour during the day, and withdrew from them to roost in its master's yard during the night. In that period of restraint, when it was necessary to observe the caution of drawing its quill feathers, to keep it within diminished capabilities of flight, until it became familiar and domesticated, it was wholly dependent on the fish provided for it by the fishermen of the beach. Sunday was no fishing day with these men; and this was, therefore, a day in which there were no supplies for the pelican. It became, in time, so conscious of the recurrence of this fast-day, that although, at all other times, it went daily down to the sea-side to wait the coming in of the canoes, on the seventh day it never stirred from the incumbent trunk of a tree, on which it roosted, within the yard. It had been found necessary to pluck its wings within the last two or three months, to restrain it within bounds, in consequence of its absence latterly with the wild birds, for several days in succession, and in this state it was reduced, as formerly, to depend on the fishermen for food. The old habit of abstinence and drowsy repose on the Sundays again recurred, and when I saw it, it was once more a tranquil observer of the rest, and with it the fast, of the Sabbath-day."