COMMON TEEN. 559 



fish in the Sonnd, and when a flock of Terns is seen hovering over a certain spot, a 

 school ofblu«i-fish is pretty sure to be at work beneath. 



" It is ait interesting sight to watch the birds collect. A moment before, perhaps only 

 a few were to be seen, leisurely winnowing their way along the shore ; but in an incredi- 

 bly short space of time the lucky discoverer of a school is surrounded by hundreds of his 

 fellows, and a perfect swarm of eager, hungry birds poises over the spot. Dozens dash 

 down at once, cleaving the water like darts, and, rising again into the air, shake the 

 salt spray ftou' their feathers by a single energetic movement, and make ready for a 

 fresh plunge. Every bird among them is screaming his shrillest, and the excitement 

 waxes fast and furious. Beneath, the blue-fish are making the water boil by their 

 savage rushes, and there is fun and profit for all save the unfortunate prey. Their posi- 

 tion is perhaps the best exemplification of the 'frying-pan and the fire' that can be 

 found in nature. 



" The descent of a Tern upon its victim is performed with inimitable ease and grace. 

 Thebird frequently disappears entirely beneath the surface, and occasionally even swims 

 a short distance under water before reappearing. The fligh i of the Roseate Tern is 

 especially daobing and beautiful, with the long cleft tail streaming out behind, or in- 

 clining, rudder-like to either side, as the bird suddenly changes its course. I have seen 

 the Wilson's Tern picking up floating garbage from the surface in the mi,nner of a 

 Gull, but the food is ordinarily small fiahes, which are taken alive. 



"In clear calm weather in September few Terns will be seen along shore. They 

 probably wander farther out to sea at such times, or congregate upon the sand-bars to 

 rest and p'ume themselves. The cleanliness of these birds is remarkable. Not only is 

 the plumage invariably spotless, but I have on more than one occasion seen a wounded 

 one, which had been taken into the boat, begin to arrange its disordered feathers, and 

 its feeble efforts to rtmove the blood-stains from its fresh wounds were truly touching. 



" When the wind blows hard the Terns spenu much of their time on tLe wing, and 

 then display great restlessness and activity . They seem to exult with the freshening breeze, 

 like ships that have been becalmed. At such timcj I have seen them play ibr many 

 minutes with a fish which one of their number had captured. The holder would drop it, 

 evidently by design, and the whole troop go sweeping down in pursuit. The foremost 

 was sure to seize it before it reach the- water, when it was taken up into the air and 

 again dropped. In this manner the prize would bo in turn passed from one to another. 

 The game was apparently well understood by all, as no attempt was made by any of 

 them to devour the fish. Swallows will frequently play with a feather in a, similar 

 manner. 



" The ease with which sea-birds find their way through the densest fog is as astonish- 

 ing as it is inexplicable. I have seen the Terns passing between the fishing-grounds and 

 Muskegat when it was impossible for human eyes to discern an object many yards 

 away, and yet their course was as direct and decided as in the clearest weather. Indeed, 

 at snoh times the fishermen are often guided by their flight. 



" The Least Terns usually leave for the south in the latter part of August, and the 

 Short-tailed species commonly departs before the close of the succeeding month. But 

 the Wilson's, the Roseate, and the Arctic Terns linger about Nantucket through the first 

 half of October. After that their numbers thin rapidly, and by the 25th all are gone. 

 The fisher'laen say that they follow the blue-fish in their southward migration. How- 

 ever that may be, when the ohilliug blasts of early November sweep across the sea, 

 the Herring and Black-backed Gulls have taken their places upon the sand-bars 

 about Nantucket ; the Eider Duck, the Scoter, the Whistler, and the Sheldrake flock to 



