H2 BUSH DAYS 



again after their fish lunch. There is something extra- 

 ordinarily fascinating in a feeding flock of gannets. High up 

 they fly, white specks against the blue sky ; then, with folded 

 wings, they drop, beak first, straight into the sea with a splash 

 that can be seen a mile away. For hours the birds were feed- 

 ing, and the supply of fish seemed to be endless, for as the 

 time passed, more and more birds joined the feeding throng; 

 and, mingled with the gannets, the black-capped terns, those 

 graceful swallow-like birds, also dived and caught their prey. 

 But the afternoon was wearing on. The Reef was almost 

 hidden now by the tide, and the walk back was a long one. 

 So we set our faces homewards. Back along the beaches, now 

 rosy in the setting sunlight, over the cliffs and away we 

 tramped, happy and healthily tired. \Ye carried no specimen 

 bag; we had left our treasures where we found them "' AYith 

 the wind and the waves and the sea's uproar " ; but in our 

 hearts we carried the magic memory of a golden day. 



