220 THE BIRD WATCHER 
foamed in again. Thegga boils in about the rocks off 
these iron shores in a tremendous manner, even when, 
like to-day, it is quite calm. On the stillest day, 
indeed, there is often a sullen swell which makes 
varying patches and long chequered lines of foam all 
around them. The sea never sleeps in these islands— 
only slumbers uneasily like some terrific monster that 
anything may awake. 
It is observable that some of these sea-pies are 
bolder than others in outstanding the swell of the 
waves. Some flee it before it comes, others fear not 
to have it wet their feet, whilst others, again, will 
almost risk being soused init. But are these different 
birds, or are they all different at different times? On 
that, of course, must depend whether a process of 
differentiation, on evolutionary lines, is in action 
amongst them or not. For myself, I think the first, 
and that, from waders or paddlers, some of these birds 
may in time become swimmers—which would make 
them a sort of sea moorhen. The redshanks has 
gone farther in this direction, for he sometimes swims, 
but I know of no intermediate form, no sea and sea- 
shore bird corresponding to our moorhen or coot.— 
Mussels, then, and the beak thrust in amongst sea- 
weed; but no limpets up to the present. Now 
limpets, as I said before, are all over the rocks, and 
so need no searching for. Why so chary, then, if the 
birds really affect them ? 
What ails ye at the puddin’-broo 
That boils into the pan, O? 
