THE STORM-PETREL.
THE STORM-PETREL.
Ages ago this little web-footed fellow was named Petrel, after the Apostle Peter, because he is most often seen walking on the waves—never in them, but just daintily skimming their surface.
To sailors they are "Mother Carey's chickens," and their presence is dreaded, because with them generally come storms and bad weather. They revel in storms, and the fiercer the gale and the higher the waves, the more merry are they. This preference of the petrel is explained by the fact that he is more than half nocturnal in his habits, and greatly dislikes the glare of sunshine. But when black clouds and gloomy mists hang low over the ocean, the semi-darkness just suits him, and through it may he be seen skimming the angry billows many leagues from the nearest land.
The inhabitants of some of the outlying Scotch islands make a peculiar use of the young petrels, which are always as fat as butter, and much more easy to catch than the old birds. The young bird is caught, killed, and a wick is passed through his body until it projects from the bill. When this wick is lighted it gradually draws every drop of oil out of the well-supplied little reservoir, and thus a lamp is formed, very cheaply and easily, that lasts and gives a good light for the whole of a long winter's evening.