3go Boobies and Penguins 



twice, and afterwards opprobriously assailed by the 

 infuriated bird for getting in her way when she was 

 hurrying back to her eggs. Of course the eggs were 

 a great treat to us — when did ever a sailor, rightly 

 constituted, feel indifferent to the sight of an egg ? — 

 and we started to gather them, careless of the feelings 

 of the mother Boobies. But if they lacked sense they 

 certainly did not want courage, and those of us who 

 had not sea-boots on, soon found that a trouser-leg 

 was but poor protection against a driving blow from 

 a Booby's beak. So the majority of us retired to look 

 for sticks (of course no such ridiculously sentimental 

 notions weighed with us as consideration for the 

 feelings of the parent birds), and meanwhile the din 

 was deafening. There were many thousands of birds, 

 and every one of them seemed to be protesting with 

 all the power of his or her lungs against this piratical 

 invasion of a peaceful and inoffensive colony. I know 

 that I felt as if I should never recover my hearing again. 

 Presently, having armed ourselves with sticks, we 

 returned to the charge, and gathered many eggs ; at 

 least I say we, but I remember that being barefooted 

 I merely hovered on the outskirts of the war, and bore 

 the eggs away as others collected them whose feet were 

 better protected against the Boobies' beaks than mine. 

 I am sorry to say that in the struggle for the possession 

 of those eggs many of the protesting Boobies were 

 killed. Their bodies were brought into camp and 

 flung down, a doleful heap, for some one to prepare 

 for eating. But as the helots who were invited with 

 many unnecessary sea-compliments to undertake the 

 task sensibly observed, ' We've got plenty of good 

 grub, an' there's plenty more for the taking, why 

 bother about getting meat ready that nobody will 

 eat ? * So there was more waste. And even the eggs, 



