WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 109 



as pleasure dictates, or as need requires. The 

 additional assistance of wings is not thrown away 

 ujion it. It has full occupation both for fins and 

 wings, as its life is in perpetual danger. 



The Bonito and Albicore chase it day and 

 night; but the Dolphin is its worst and swiftest 

 foe. If it escape into the air, the dolphin pushes 

 on with proportional velocity beneath, and is 

 ready to snap it up the moment it descends to wet 

 its wings. 



You will often see above one hundred of these 

 little marine aerial fugitives on the wing at once. 

 They appear to use every exertion to prolong 

 their flight, but vain are all their efforts; for 

 when the last drop of water on their wings is 

 dried up, their flight is at an end, and they must 

 drop into the ocean. Some are instantly devoured 

 by their merciless pursuer, part escape by swim- 

 ming, and others get out again as quick as pos- 

 sible, and trust once more to their wings. 



It often happens that this unfortunate little 

 creature, after alternate dips and flights, finding 

 all its exertions of no avail, at last drops on board 

 the vessel, verifying the old remark, 



"Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim. " 



There, stunned by the fall, it beats the deck 

 with its tail and dies. When eating it, you would 

 take it for a fresh herring. The largest measure 

 from fourteen to fifteen inches in length. The 

 dolphin, after pursuing it to the ship, sometimes 

 forfeits his own life. 



In days of yore, the musician used to play in 

 softest, sweetest strain, and then take an airing 



