300 THE BIRD WATCHER 
I have sometimes yendered if the fish which the 
puffin catches so deftly, and then carries home, a dozen 
at a time, are paralysed at the sight of it. If a shoal 
of sand-eels fainted, and lay strewed about the bottom 
of the sea, it would then be easy for their enemy 
to pick them up one after the other, pack them 
securely, and get a firm grip on all of them before 
they began to revive and wriggle. At least, it ought 
to be easier; but how the bird chases and catches 
each in succession, without losing those it has already 
caught, and which lie in a row across its beak, it 
is not so easy to see. I have sometimes, I believe, 
made out a dozen, at the least—all sand-eels— 
closely wedged together along the cleft of the 
mandibles, their heads and tails hanging down on 
either side of the lower one. Perhaps, however, the 
difficulty is not so great as it seems to be—of under- 
standing it, of course, I mean; it is no doubt easy 
enough for the bird to do. My theory, at any rate, 
of its modus operandi is this. The first sand-eel is, no 
doubt, passed to the base of the mandibles, and being 
firmly wedged against the membrane that unites 
them, I suppose that they are finally closed upon it. 
Were they opened again, at all widely, to catch the 
next and subsequent ones, there would be a danger of 
as many as were already there either escaping by their 
own efforts, or being floated out owing to the pressure 
of the water. But the beak of the puffin, though 
broad and leaf-like in its shape, is sharply tipped, and 
by opening it but a little, and pressing the fish against 
