The Grace of Rapine 409 



eye beneath, suddenly descend in a series of graceful 

 curves and snatch the hapless flying-fish as he rises 

 from the sea, is to realise how wonderful are the powers 

 given to these birds. It is an object-lesson in perfectly 

 graceful motion, even the snatch which secures the 

 finny fugitive being made with such swift alertness 

 that the eye cannot follow it, and the beholder imagines 

 that the bird has missed its prey. Rising into the 

 air again the fish is often dropped, probably because 

 it was not in a good position for swallowing, and with 

 one glorious swoop, made with apparent deliberateness, 

 but really with tremendous swiftness, the falling fish 

 has been caught again in the right position, and as the 

 bird soars once more, the observer may see it being 

 slowly degusted. 



But, as I have been obliged to hint before, the 

 main business of life for the Frigate Bird seems to 

 be that of a robber. When the motherly boobies 

 leave their young and fussily flap out to the fishing 

 grounds, they do not see that floating, like black 

 specks in the blue above, the Frigate Bird is waiting 

 for their appearance. I use the singular, because 

 the Frigate Bird is most unsociable. He is often 

 seen in company with others of his own kind, that 

 is in the sense of propinquity, but there is no sort 

 of co-operation or apparent desire of association one 

 with another. Every pirate singles out his victim, 

 watches with keenest interest from his serene height 

 the labouring search, imperceptibly descending to 

 a lower plane until when at last the hard-working 

 mother, having secured the fish, starts for home, 

 there is a swift descent as of a black shadow, full of 

 ease, apparently effortless, yet restrained. It is no 

 more like the headlong plunge of the gannet than a 

 man running is like a bird flying. 



