SIDE LIGHTS ON BIRDS 



creep even in July, down the declivities to valleys 

 of the tenderest green, birds, butterflies, and 

 flowers even the most familiar, stand out as it 

 were in a new setting, and are invested with an 

 interest unknown before from the wildness and 

 wonder of their environment. 



Leaving Hull on May 29 we note a few herring 

 gulls hawking over the murky water. These 

 follow the ship, and as we coast the long line of 

 sand-dunes with the Spurn Lighthouse at their 

 point, no other form of bird life comes in sight. 



In the open sea, in the early morning, we mark 

 one or two herring gulls still following in our 

 wake, ready to swoop down on any debris thrown 

 from the ship, and now and then a casual lesser 

 black-back joins the group. 



From time to time one or another of our attend- 

 ants falls away, and for long we can follow with 

 the glass its drifting form as it seems to wander 

 aimlessly over the desolate waste of water. Now 

 and again some refuse thrown overboard from the 

 cook's galley causes wild excitement in the more 

 persistent birds. Instantly abandoning the 

 poised position, where, often on motionless wing, 

 and with watchful heads turning from right to 

 left, they have followed for hours the vessel's 

 course, they drop with wild cries into the waves. 

 Now one seizes some morsel and is at once at- 

 tacked and pursued by his fellows ; and one notices 

 again how out of the vast emptiness of sea and 

 sky new-comers seem to spring into being, and 

 join the gathering, which dispute for every scrap 

 ere it is lost in the diminishing white line in our 

 ship's wake. 



Bird life in the North Sea is never very con- 

 spicuous, but at times, during the season of 

 migration, some interesting incidents may be 

 witnessed. We recall an August morning when 



186 



