produce only one egg; but still that could not account for the small number visible: we could only therefore suspect, from certain friendly croakings uttered by the old ones, when turning their heads towards little chinks, the extremities of which were invisible, that the infant birds were kept in the background; and well they were so, for otherwise, in the constant disturbances and tumblings incessantly taking place, the whole rising generation must inevitably have broken their necks in the confusion, by falling over, before they were able to fly. But a greater surprise was excited by perceiving, in the midst of the bustle, a solitary egg here and there lying on the bare rock, within a few inches of the edge. By what care or instinct was it preserved from falling? It has been said, that if they are removed by a human hand, it is impossible, or at least extremely difficult, to replace them in their former situation; whence it has been inferred, that they are glued by some secret cement to the rock. Some of our ablest naturalists, however, doubt this; but if it is not so, the mystery is rather increased than lessened for they are in a most hazardous position; but they are preserved, though by what means we have yet to learn. The Razor-bills were by no means so numerous as the Guillemots, and, generally speaking, did not mix with them; seeming to hold themselves apart as the better bird of the two, peering at one another, and pluming their coats with a sort of dandy satisfaction at their superior brilliancy and glossiness.

Besides these more common species, there are others, rarely found in Britain, being chiefly confined to the colder and more inhospitable regions of the northern or southern divisions of the globe, where they exist in numbers almost surpassing our powers of computation. One species in particular, the Little Auk, or Greenland Dove, Sir Edward Parry met with by millions, when the ships got amongst the ice in particular spots, and they were killed for sea provisions. But in the southern hemisphere they appear to be even still more abundant.

Adjacent to the islands of Australia,* the Sooty Petrels congregate in incredible masses, of from fifty to eighty yards in depth, and of three hundred yards or more in breadth, not

* FLINDERS' Australia.

scattered, but flying as compactly and as close as the free movement of their wings will allow, and passing for a full hour or more with a swiftness little inferior to that of a Pigeon. On these data, it has been calculcated that the number in such a flight would amount to one hundred and fifty-one million five hundred thousand birds! about one-fifth of the whole population of the

globe. These birds live and breed in burrows; and the number of burrows required to lodge such a flock would not be far short of seventy-six millions; and allowing a square yard for each burrow, the space covered would be some

The Petrel.

thing more than twenty-four and a half square miles, or nearly fifteen thousand six hundred and eighty acres of ground!

And though in such cheerless solitudes, man would soon perish for want of sustenance, living food seems to be placed there by Providence to a greater extent than in any other known parts of the habitable globe. Countless as are the myriads of these birds, still more countless, by millions and millions of figures, are the lesser marine beings on which they feed. Some idea may be formed of their abundance by calculating the length of time that would be requisite for a certain number of persons to count the quantity contained in one square mile of sea-water. Allowing that one person could count a million in seven days, which is barely possible, it has been calculated that no less than eighty thousand persons should have started nearly six thousand years ago to complete the calculation to the present time! And if, passing beyond the consideration of the actual numbers, we reflect that each of these minute beings has not only life, but a body wonderfully made, with instincts and senses peculiar to each-how infinitely beyond the power of our imagination to conceive, is that great and overruling Power, who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, and meted out the heavens with a span.

CHAPTER XX.

Penguins.-Fin-winged.-King Penguin of the Southern Regions described.-Breeding-places.-Valuable for Oil.-Sea Fowler's perilous Occupation.-Description of, in Shetland, St. Kilda, &c.—Singular Escapes.-Fatal Accidents.

HITHERTO We have considered birds as more or less inhabitants of the air, gifted with wings for that purpose; it remains for us to speak of two families, possessing, indeed, wings, but too small to assist them in flight, and used, therefore, only as fish

use their fins, for giving them additional powers on, or beneath, the surface of the water, where they pass the greater part of their existence. They are the Penguins, properly so called, and the Aptenodytes, a word compounded from the Greek, signifying wingless divers; for although the wings of the former scarcely deserve the name, they are nevertheless covered to a certain degree with feathers, whereas those of the latter are only furnished with vestiges of feathers, at first sight much resembling fish-scales.

The Penguin.

The Penguins are chiefly confined to the coldest regions of the southern hemisphere. The rapidity with which these birds fly, if it may be so termed, under water after fish is quite astonishing. One which was caught in the Orkney Islands at

first refused all food, and became so weak that it was expected to die; at length, however, it was tempted to eat, and being plentifully supplied with fish, soon resumed its strength and activity. With a cord tied round its leg to prevent its escape, it was permitted to sport in the water; but even with this restraint, which must have very much impeded its motions, it performed the motions of diving and swimming with a speed that set all pursuit from a boat at defiance, affording the most convincing proof that, had it been at full liberty, no fish could have escaped.

The Aptenodytes, which may be called southern Penguins, as they never come beyond the limits of the Southern Ocean, are very numerous on the lonely isles scattered over the dreary wilderness of those seas. The largest of these, the King Penguin, exceeds a Goose in size. As their legs project from their bodies in the same direction with their tails, they walk upright; and when a flock of them are seen moving in file, or arranged along the ledges of the rocks, they appear like a

company of soldiers; for they hold their heads very high, with stretched necks, while their little flappers project like two arms. As the feathers on their breasts are beautifully white, with a line of black running across the crop, they have been by others compared to a row of children, with white aprons tied round their waists with black strings.

The great Albatross, as we have seen, spends the chief part of his life on the wing; the King Penguin, on the other hand, rarely quits the water, with the exception of the breeding season, when in some places, though not always, as we shall see in our account of the Albatross, in Tristan d'Acunha, both unite in vast flocks, and people the rugged rocks for a time. When a sufficient number of these birds are assembled on the shore, they appear, like the Herons, Storks, and some other species we have mentioned in the preceding pages, to pass a day or two in deliberation; on concluding the consultation they will proceed to the execution of the grand purpose for which they are then and there assembled.

A space of ground near the shore is selected and is taken up by Penguins and Albatrosses, with the addition of a few other sea-birds, which find places in unoccupied spots. But although these Penguins and Albatrosses are on such intimate terms, and appear to go on so well together, they not only form very different nests, but the Penguin, when she can, will rob her neighbour's. She merely makes a slight hollow in the earth, just deep enough to prevent her single egg rolling out; whereas the Albatross throws up a little mound of earth, grass, and shells, eight or ten inches high, about the size of a small water bucket, on the top of which she sits. None of their nests are ever left unoccupied for a single moment until the eggs are hatched, and the young ones old enough to take care of themselves. The male goes to sea till he has satisfied his hunger, and then returning, takes the place of his mate, when she flies off for the same purpose.

During this season the Penguins may be seen marching round, or up and down the pathways of this marine rookery, as it may be termed, while the air is darkened by thousands