Among the Water-Fowl 



few Pomarine Jaegers. The latter were shyer than 

 the others, remaining, for the most part, on the 

 outskirts of the group, though now and then 

 venturing nearer for some specially tempting morsel. 

 In half an hour we had a hundred birds close 

 around us. The '' Haglets" and " Mother Carey's" 

 were exceedingly tame. They would come right 

 up to the side of the boat to secure a piece of liver, 

 and once I actually caught a Petrel alive by giving 

 it a little poke with a gaff, seizing it before it could 

 again get awing. I nearly induced a pair of Shear- 

 waters to eat out of my hands. They would swim 

 up, extend their bills within a foot of the liver, and 

 gaze at it as wistfully as a dog does at a bone. As 

 soon as I dropped it, they would pounce upon it, 

 extending their wings and uttering peculiar grunts 

 and wailing sounds. 



And here is how I got my photographs. I 

 made ready the camera for an instantaneous ex- 

 posure, and, by the focusing-scale, set the lens for 

 what I guessed would be the proper distance. 

 Then I enticed the birds as near the boat as possible 

 by throwing out liver close alongside. With greasy 

 hands I caught up the camera, made a final guess at 

 the focus, and snapped at the birds before they were 

 off. A Reflex camera would have been far better 

 for this work, but I had to make the best of the 

 apparatus at hand. 



Sometimes I threw out a whole handful of liver 

 a little farther from the boat, and instantly there 

 would be a frantic scramble for it of all the birds 

 nearest. The Shearwaters seemed particularly quar- 

 relsome, and how they would fight for that liver, 



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