THIRD WEEK] November 297 



sending a derisive shower of drops over the head of the 

 gull. 



Once, after a week of rough weather, the storm gods 

 brought their battling to a climax. Great green walls of 

 foaming water crashed upon the rocks, rending huge boulders 

 and sucking them down into the black depths. Over and 

 through the spray dashed the gull, answering the wind's 

 howl shriek for shriek, poising over the fearful battle- 

 field of sea and shore. 



A wave mightier than all hung and curved, and a 

 myriad shell-fish were torn from their sheltered nooks and 

 hurled high in air, to fall broken and helpless among the 

 boulders. The quick eye of the gull saw it all, and at that 

 instant of intensest chaos of the elements, the brain of 

 the bird found itself. 



Shortly afterward came night and sleep, but the new- 

 found flash of knowledge was not lost. 



The next day the bird walked at low tide into the 

 stronghold of the shell-fish, roughly tore one from the silky 

 strands of its moorings, and carrying it far upward let it 

 fall at random among the rocks. The toothsome morsel 

 was snatched from its crushed shell and a triumphant 

 scream told of success, a scream which, could it have 

 bsen" interpreted, should have made a myriad, myriad 

 mussels shrink within their shells! 



From gull to gull, and from flock to flock, the new habit 

 spread, imitation taking instant advantage of this new 

 source of food. When to-day, we walk along the shore and 

 see flocks of gulls playing ducks and drakes with the 

 unfortunate shell-fish, give them not too much credit, but 



