144 AUDUBON THE NATURALIST. 



at the slightest intimation of danger, at a single 

 whistle from anj one of the flock, they all in- 

 stantly fly off, rising from the ground by one 

 quick spring, undulating backwards and for- 

 wards, and round, in the most curious manner, 

 now and then pausing in the air, like the hawk, 

 for a few minutes against the wind, as though 

 for the pleasantness of meeting the breeze. 



Beautiful as are the various species of terns, 

 the roseate probably surpasses them all, with 

 its glossy head of raven blackness and the deli- 

 cate loveliness of its rosy tinted breast. So light 

 and graceful are the movements of these birds, 

 too, as in gatherings of hundreds they dance 

 through the air, that they may with justice be 

 called the humming-birds of the sea. Now flock- 

 ing together, they disperse again, and hover 

 round, or, if in anger, plunge Avith a sudden 

 dash, uttering cries of wrath. 



Traversing the solitudes of Labrador, the un- 

 broken silence which reigns around seems like the 

 mournfulness of a deserted land, and, combined 

 with the melancholy grandeur of the scenery, is 

 peculiarly impressive. Stupendous masses of 

 rock, hundreds of feet in height, look down 

 frowningly, their curious carvings appearing 

 like devices wrought by superhuman hands. 



The few dwarf pines and the stunted vegeta- 

 tion add to the singular aspect of the landscape, 



