THE FRIGATE BIRD. 105 



metaphor, untrue when applied to any other bird, is no exaggeration 

 when applied to him : literally, he sleeps upon the storm. 



When he chooses to oar his way seriously, all distance vanishes : 

 he breakfasts at the Senegal ; he dines in America. 



Or, if he thinks fit to take more time, and amuse himself en route, 

 he can do so. He may continue his progress through the night 

 indefinitely, certain of reposing himself. Upon what ? On his huge 

 motionless wing, which takes upon itself all the weariness of the 

 voyage ; or on the wind, his slave, which eagerly hastens to 

 cradle him. 



Observe, moreover, that this strange being is gifted with the 

 proud prerogative of fearing nothing in this world. Little, but strong 

 and intrepid, he braves all the tyrants of the air. He can despise, if 

 need be, the pygargue and the condor : those huge unwieldy crea- 

 tures will with great difficulty have put themselves in motion when 

 he shall have already achieved a distance of ten leagues. 



Oh, it is then that envy seizes us, when, amid the glowing azure 

 of the Tropics, at incredible altitudes, almost imperceptible in the dim 

 remoteness, we see him triumphantly sweeping past us this black, 

 solitary bird, alone in the waste of heaven : or, at the most, at a 

 lower elevation, the snow-white sea-swallow crosses his flights in easy 

 grace ! 



Why dost not thou take me upon thy pens, O king of the air. 

 /thou fearless and unwearied master of space, whose wondrously swift 

 flight annihilates time ? Who more than thou is raised above the 

 mean fatalities of existence ? 



One thing, however, has astonished me : that, when contemplated 

 from near at hand, the first of the winged kingdom should have 

 nothing of that serenity which a free life promises. His eye is 

 cruelly hard, severe, mobile, unquiet. His vexed attitude is that of 

 some unhappy sentinel doomed, under pain of death, to keep watch 

 over the infinity of ocean. He visibly exerts himself to see afar. 

 And if his vision does not avail him, the doom is on his dark counte- 

 nance; nature condemns him, he dies. 



