OFF CHATHAM BARS 
191 
them following us up astern, and then flitting and twittering 
around the vessel. As far as I could tell, they were all the 
antarctic Wilson’s Petrels — with yellow webs instead of black, 
and tails rounded instead of forked. What restless, stirring 
bits of animation they are! They are seldom seen to alight 
on the water, save for an 
instant. Toss out a bit of 
liver just astern and a 
petrel flutters down and 
seizes it, without alighting. 
It keeps fluttering its wings 
and pattering its feet on the 
surface, seeming to walk 
on the water, like Peter of 
old, hence its name. They 
are hard indeed to photo¬ 
graph, so constant is their 
activity and so rapid the 
beating of their wings. I 
was snapping away plates 
at them with my reflex camera and found that an exposure 
of one one-thousandth of a second was none too quick. With 
one five-hundredth, at close range, the wings would blur. 
The farther off we sailed, the more birds appeared. Now 
and then a Parasitic Jaeger followed us up, and finally a large 
Pomarine Jaeger, tempted by the bribes of rich, fat liver we 
were offering, flew up several times close astern and gave 
me some fine chances with the camera. A few shearwaters, 
too, began to show themselves, and by the time we had 
reached the “ Crab Ledge,” some eight miles out, we decided 
to “lie to” again and feed the birds. “Chickens” were as 
plenty as ever, and came again for rations. A couple of jaegers 
took the leavings, as they drifted off a little way from the 
