490 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
placed in a box containing about seven pounds of hot sand covered with 
some folds of a soft woollen stuff, and fed at frequent intervals with morsels 
of fish dipped in cod-liver oil, cod-liver oil alone, brandy and milk, cream, 
chewed bread and butter, bits of beef-fat, and raw meat. It would submit 
to be forcibly fed with solids, but rejected liquids with apparent aversion, 
and revived considerably; so that it would seck for food, and take it from 
the hand. It never appeared at all wild, timid, or spiteful, was exceedingly 
fond of warmth, would nestle in the hollow of the hand, settle itself to sleep 
there, and remain quiet as long as permitted to do so. When allowed its 
liberty in the room, it would flitter about the floor for a time, with a singular 
gracefulness, but would ultimately settle as near the warm fender as it could 
get, twice got within it, and seemed very happy there. Placed in a large 
bath, it showed an entire incapacity to use its feet for swimming like other 
web-footed birds, and its plumage, like theirs, instead of repelling water, 
became saturated at once. Its feet never moved in concert—expanding and 
closing, as a duck’s would do, but, on the other hand, it was evidently 
distressed, and not in its element. When removed from the water it was 
so wet, even its wings, that it was quite helpless. I was so surprised at this 
that, a few days afterwards, I repeated the experiment, that I might not be 
misled by too hasty a conclusion. The result was the same, and my 
observations so confirmed as to lead me to the conviction that these birds 
never take the water like ducks, gulls, grebes, &c., and that being forced 
into it by accident they would be quite unable to extricate themselves, and 
would perish as certainly as any land bird. I have no opportunity of 
speaking upon actual measurement, but should say its gape is not larger 
than the common Martin's, but it was capable of a dilation sufficient to 
enable it to swallow with ease pieces which would strike one as very much 
too large for it. As it seemed to dislike liquids, I soon discontinued my 
attempts to feed it with them, except oil; and twice, long afterwards, I saw 
it forcibly eject a watery fluid, free from grease, from its nostrils, as if from 
a syringe, though the quantity was not more than a small drop. Does this 
justify the conjecture that watery liquids are so little necessary to its 
economy that it is provided with this faculty in order to rid itself of any 
superfluity ? It has a habit of climbing by its hooked bill and wings, using 
the wrist, or carpal joints with the effect of hands; the feet are used at 
the same time, but play a subsidiary part. When at liberty in the room, 
to interpose an impediment to its progress was to excite a determination in 
this way to surmount it, when, with a tenth of the effort, it could have 
gone round it, Its habits were distinctly nocturnal, beginning to be lively 
in the evening and remaining restless all night; whereas it would be quiet 
or sleep the greater part of the day, especially if near the fire or on hot 
sand. It did not once utter any sound, and I never saw it put its head 
under its wing in sleep. It tucks its feet up im its feathers, just as a swan 
