220 THE CORMORANT. 



The poet could not, indeed, easily hare selected a 

 fitter frame for the foul fiend, than that of a Cor- 

 morant: there is something so unearthly ahout him, 

 as he is seen reposing on a rock, when gorged with 

 food; his slouching form, his wet and vapid wings 

 dangling from his sides to catch the breeze, while 

 his weird, haggard, wildly-staring emerald-green 

 eyes scowl ahout in all directions. 



The quantities of fish one of these hirds will 

 devour is astonishing three or four pounds a day, 

 or ahout half their weight, a Cormorant weighing 

 from six to seven pounds. What should we say of 

 a man's eating seventy or eighty pounds of beef or 

 mutton at his daily meals ? which he would do were 

 his appetite as great in proportion as that of the 

 Cormorant's. The fact is, that, like most birds 

 living on fish, its digestion is extremely rapid, and 

 it therefore requires a proportionably larger supply 

 of food, of which if it is deprived, it soon dies, 

 as is often known to be the case. Thus, on the 

 western coast of the Hebrides, these poor birds 

 suffer severely, when, during and after a continued 

 gale, the Atlantic rolls in its enormous billows, 

 dashing them against the headlands, and scouring 

 with their fury the sounds and creeks. As far as 

 the eye can reach, the ocean boils and heaves, pre- 

 senting one boundless field of foam, the spray from 

 the summits of the waves sweeping along the waste 

 like drifted snow: no sign of life is to be seen, 

 save when a Gull, labouring hard to bear itself up 

 against the blast, hovers overhead, or darts by like 

 a meteor. If, at such a season, the haunts of the 

 Cormorants are visited, they will be found huddled 



