CORMORANTS AND GANNET 30; 



least, from the marsh-lands. The weather is cold 

 enough to make us "beat the booty," as they term 

 it ; that is, thrash your ribs with your open hands 

 vigorously. Lip-lip-lip-lip-lip-lip, lipper-lipper-lip- 

 lip-lip-lip-lip, like the rain falling on the surface ; yet 

 it certainly does not rain. The sound is caused by 

 countless catches of sprats swimming close to the 

 surface, feeding as they swim; the "sprat rain," so 

 called from the noise the shoals make. We can see 

 the surface ruffled by their progress, and they are still 

 coming, from where our boat is anchored. " Shin up 

 an' look down on 'em," our friend shouts from below. 

 This we quickly do. Cackle and bark ! bark and 

 cackle ! This comes from a couple of Cobs. 

 Down one drops, snatches a fish (a young herring 

 by the look of it, for it is three times larger than 

 a sprat), and his mate fights him for it, before he 

 can pouch it. They are thrashing each other with 

 their strong pinions viciously, digging with their 

 vulture-like bills, making the water flirt up in all 

 directions. There is enough fish around and 

 beneath them to have them off the surface of the 

 water ; but no, they must fight and squabble in the 

 midst of teeming abundance, because it is their 

 nature so to do. 



This is not peculiar to Gulls, for other creatures 

 besides birds squabble at times over a good find, or 

 quarry. The divers have not flown with the shoals, 

 but they have swam with them. Some are at work 

 below us ; we see grey streaks and white flashes as 

 the birds dash round the boat. Their speed is so 



