THE COMING OF SPRING 265 



and naturalists that they rarely succeed in rearing 

 their young ; and the next to follow are the herring 

 gulls. The gull fixes on a site for his nest, but long 

 before building begins he appears anxious to let all 

 his neighbours know that this particular spot is his 

 very own and that he looks on their approach with 

 jealous eyes. Not green eyes like the cormorant's, 

 but of a very pure luminous yellow like the vivid 

 eyes of a harrier hawk, or some brilliant yellow gem, 

 or like the glazed petal of a buttercup lit by a sun- 

 beam. His gull neighbours respect his rights, but 

 the jackdaws mock at his feeling of proprietorship 

 and amuse themselves very much at his expense. 



One day I watched a pair of gulls on a rock they 

 had recently taken possession of a large mass of 

 granite thrust out from the cliff over the sea. The 

 female was reposing at the spot where it was intended 

 the nest should be, while the male kept guard, walk- 

 ing proudly about on his little domain, now turning 

 an eye up to watch the birds flying overhead, then 

 stooping to pick up a pebble to hold it a few moments 

 in his bill and drop it again, and then marching up to 

 his mate, whereupon they would open wide their 

 yellow beaks, stretch out their necks and join their 

 voices in a loud triumphant chant. "Here we are," he 

 appeared to be saying, " established on our own rock, 

 which belongs exclusively to us with everything on it, 

 even to the smallest pebble and to every leaf and 

 flower of the thrift and sea-campion growing on it. 

 Not a bird of them all will venture to alight on this rock. 

 Come now, stand up and let us shout together ! " 



