Shearwaters and Petrels 



are what the petrels are searching for when they follow a ship ; 

 and seeing any such they quickly settle down to enjoy it, then 

 rising again, soon overtake a vessel under steam. Their wing 

 power is marvellous, yet when a gale is blowing in full blast 

 at sea, these little birds are often blown far inland ; the capped 

 petrel, for example, that has its proper home in Guadeloupe, in 

 the West Indies, having been found in the interior of New York 

 state after a prolonged "sou'easter." The petrels swim little, if 

 any, though their webbed feet are so admirably adapted for swim- 

 ming, which might be a greater protection to them than flying 

 when the storms blow. The lighthouses attract many to their 

 death on the stern New England coast. 



As night approaches the birds show signs of weariness from 

 the perpetual exercise ; for not only have they kept pace with a 

 steamer through the day, but they have made innumerable ex- 

 cursions far from the ship, and played from side to side with a 

 flock of companions at hide-and-go-seek or cross-tag until the 

 eye tires of watching them. But by the time it is dark the last 

 one of the merry little hunters has settled down upon the waves, 

 with head tucked under wing, to rest until dawn while " rocked 

 in the cradle of the deep " ; yet it is apparently the very same 

 flock of birds that are busily looking for breakfast the next morn- 

 ing in the wake of the ship, which they must have overtaken 

 with the wings of Mercury. 



It would seem these innocent sea-rovers might escape 

 persecution at the hands of man; but an English globe-trotter 

 tells of seeing not only sailors, but passengers, too, who ordi- 

 narily feel only camaraderie for other fellow travellers on a 

 lonely vessel, shoot these tiny waifs hovering about the ship, 

 to break the tediousness of a long voyage. With the guilty con- 

 sciences such sailors must have, it is small wonder the petrel is a 

 bird of ill omen to them. They claim it is a harbinger of storms, 

 like its large relative the albatross; and it might easily be, for it 

 delights in rough weather that brings an abundance of food to the 

 surface. All the gruesome superstitions which sailors have clus- 

 tered around the birds of this entire family, in fact, were woven 

 by Coleridge into his "Rime of the Ancient Mariner." 



According to Briinnich, the Faro Islanders draw a wick 

 through the body of the petrel, that is oily from the eating of 

 much fat, and burn the poor thing as a lamp. 



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