THE GREAT BLACK-BACKED GULL. 181 



I have seen them when a mass of foaming water 

 boiled and hissed over them, and the cry had 

 reached our homes that a vessel -had struck; and 

 have watched the grand sea-bird, as, beaten to lee- 

 ward, it made tacks to get up again, partly succeed- 

 ing, to be caught again by the wind, and blown like 

 a sheet of paper over the beach. Even then the 

 "cob's" courage never failed him. He would beat 

 back, and flap along the breakers just off shore, 

 marine vulture that he is, in search of some ghastly 

 prey. As a child, I looked on him with awe, when 

 he came on our dangerous coast from the open sea, 

 and flapped to and fro over the sandhills, with their 

 scanty vegetation sea-holly, creeping convolvulus, 

 and bents, diversified here and there with patches 

 of sea-kale and then flew into the salt flats close at 

 hand, where, on one leg, he would rest for a while 

 by the side of some pool that glistened among 

 tangled patches of sea blite and samphire, far 

 enough away from the sandhills to be out of reach 

 of all harm, even from a long duck-gun. When the 

 fishermen's wives caught sight of him they would 

 grow uneasy about their husbands and sons who 

 were away out at sea. They said the cob knew 



