CORMORANT. 



town, at all events it occurred at the time. A sailor, for 

 the sum of five shillings, undertook to stand on the top of 

 the spire: he first ascended one of the pinnacles, on which 

 he stood on one foot, and next went up one side of the 

 spire, but finding one of the knobs, with which it is studded, 

 broken off, he descended, and succeeded in another place. 

 He then tied his neckerchief to the weathercock, and danced 

 a hornpipe round it, on the millstone at the top. The spire 

 was at that time about two hundred and seventy feet high, 

 the uppermost portion having been struck down by lightning. 

 It has since been restored to its original height of three 

 hundred feet. 



Nothing is more interesting than to see a Cormorant 

 fishing, so well does he swim, and so quickly does he dive. 

 There he is, long and low in the water, like a pirate craft, 

 and equally swift for his size. To pursue is to capture, and 

 to overtake is death. Nor is he ever becalmed, wind-bound, 

 or without the weather-gage; or if he floats indeed on a 

 surface unruffled by a breath of air and as smooth as glass, 

 he has oars which are never motionless, and his upright head 

 is unceasingly on the look out. Now he raises up his body, 

 and down below and onwards he plunges, as if in the act 

 of making a sommersault: you cannot help but look with 

 interest for his re-appearance, and on a sudden he starts up 

 after a lengthened dive, where you perhaps expected him, or 

 still more likely in a different spot a fish you may be almost 

 sure he has. 



In the old days of the flint-and-steel guns, the first flash 

 used to send the Cormorant down, so quick was his eye, and 

 even now it is difficult to get within shot. They fly strongly 

 and well, though not very fast, and at a considerable height, 

 if over the land. They may often be seen standing on the 

 shore or rocks apparently to dry their wings, previous to 

 which the one kept by Montagu was observed to beat the 

 water violently with its wings without moving from the spot, 

 then shake its whole body, ruffle its feathers, at the same 

 time covering itself with water, and this many times together 

 with short intervals of rest. They are able to perch on trees. 

 The young dive instinctively even from the very first. 



It is curious to watch the Cormorant swallowing, or 

 attempting to swallow a fish, eel, or other, too large to be 

 got down at once; sometimes as much as half an hour is 

 passed in the attempt, before a successful issue is come to- 



