1 60 Stray Feathers. [ 



Emu 

 ist Jan. 



great shoal of the dehcate httle fish cahed whitebait has made its 

 appearance in our waters, and hundreds of bird pursuers are 

 relentlessly following it up. Yesterday afternoon I counted 63 

 Gannets in one group floating on the blue waters of the Mersey, 

 just where it debouches into the Strait, enjoying in the sunshine a 

 brief spell from their fishing labours. Although I have repeatedly 

 watched the Gannets diving off the coast of New South Wales and 

 elsewhere, I never remember seeing them present in such numbers 

 as here just now. When over a good shoal of fish they literally 

 tumble by dozens and scores into the water, reminding the 

 watcher of a shower of huge snowflakes melting into the waves ; 

 it is marvellous how they avoid striking each other when descend- 

 in such numbers and with such velocity into a small patch of 

 water, each apparently oblivious of everything except that one 

 little object it has sighted beneath the surface. The dive into 

 deep water is usually made from a height of 18 to 30 feet, and is 

 a literal " header," the bird usually entering the waves nearly 

 vertically, and with a splash ; a perceptible interval elapses before 

 it reappears some little distance away, giving its yellowish beak a 

 swish backwards and forwards after swallowing its prey. It 

 usually sits a few seconds upon the water before going aloft again, 

 thus differing from the Tern, which takes to its wings the moment it 

 reaches the surface. When diving in shallow water close to the 

 rocks, the Gannet begins the descent from a height of 4 or 5 feet 

 only, instead of 20 or 30 feet. The wings are not closed, as is 

 usually supposed, at the beginning of the descent, but remain 

 expanded until the bird is close to the surface, and apparently 

 assist in guiding it to the exact spot which it desires to reach ; 

 it then flaps them suddenly to the side of the body, and the 

 admirable adaptability of its shape to its aquatic life may be 

 well seen just as it enters the water, the long beak, head, neck, 

 and body stretched out rigidly in one straight line, the legs and 

 wings tucked closely in, everything arranged so as to offer as 

 little resistance as possible to the water. Few prettier sights can 

 be imagined than a company thus engaged in diving on a spring 

 afternoon, with the sunshine above and the blue waves beneath ; 

 the plunge is made with such zeal (there are no half-measures 

 about the bird's dive). 



A few pairs of Terns [Sterna hcrgi) may be seen fishing in 

 company with the larger birds, but the dive is a much milder 

 affair in this case, the bird not going any depth, and in some 

 cases only half-submerging itself, and rising on the wing imme- 

 diately afterwards ; it has a peculiar way of bending its head 

 down when on the wing, looking for prey, and this, combined 

 with its sharp-pointed beak, gracefully curved wings, and forked 

 tail, render it unmistakable. The Gannet fishes very silently, 

 hardly a sound escaping from the whole large company, but the 

 Tern, while coursing up and down, frequently utters a querulous 

 kind of whistle or wail, sometimes varying this by a harsher 

 guttural cry. — H. Stuart Dove. West Devonport, Tasmania. 



