Among the Water-Fowl 



three or four miles off the land, the sea was fairly 

 alive with them, while Kitti wakes were flitting 

 about in all directions, plunging Tern-like into the 

 water after small lish. 



I shall never forget the scene that ensued when 

 a school of these small fry rose to the surface, prob- 

 ably chased by the Haddock or Dog-fish below. 

 The birds instantly discovered the school, and made 

 for it. The air was full of excited Kittiwakes, 

 hovering, plunging and fluttering up with their 

 prey. Line after line of Murres likewise came 

 flying up, and, pitching down into the water, dove 

 and fed. In a few moments the water for about an 

 acre was a mass of struggling birds. At length 

 they so alarmed the fish that these preferred facing 

 their finny enemies to this feathered onslaught, and, 

 with a simultaneous leap, they were gone. It was 

 surprising how quickly the birds scattered again. 



We beat some eight or ten miles off-shore 

 against the moderate easterly wind to the fishing- 

 ground, noticing that the line of the greatest 

 abundance of birds was about half way out. Yet 

 there were quite a few birds on the fishing-ground. 

 As we hauled up the slimy Cod, Hake and Haddock, 

 the beautiful Kittiwakes hovered close around us — 

 so unlike the wary large Gulls — -as though begging 

 for the titbits of liver that we now and then threw 

 them. They seemed to have absolutely no fear of 

 man, flying back and forth so near us as barely to 

 avoid our sail and rigging. It almost seemed that 

 they could be taught to feed out of one's hand. 

 The Murres, or " Noddies," as the Chatham fisher- 

 men call them, came also for their share. As they 



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