THE PETRBL. 60 



Owing to this habit, and its custom of taking to the sea during 

 the fiercest storms, it has long been an object of dread to sailors, 

 whose illogical minds are unable to discriminate between cause 

 and effect, and fancy that the Petrel, or Mother Carey's Chicken, 

 as they call the bird, is the being which, by the exercise of 

 some magic art, calls the storm into existence. They even fancy 

 that the Petrel never goes ashore nor rests ; and will tell you that 

 it does not lay its egg in the ground, but holds it under one wing, 

 and hatches it while engaged in flight. To the vulgar mind, 

 everything incomprehensible is fraught with terrors, and so the 

 harmless, and even useful Petrel, is hated with strange virulence. 



The bird is essentially a storm-lover, for by the violence of 

 the wind upon the waves the substances on which the bird feeds 

 are thrown to the surface, and can be snapped up before they 

 sink again. The Petrel perceives by some innate faculty the 

 approach of a storm, and its appearance is the signal for the 

 careful mariner to reduce his sails. The ignorant sailors, who 

 know, from long experience, that the Petrel is the forerunner of 

 a storm, salute it by the title of Devil's bird, together with 

 sundry other epithets, all very forcible, but on that very account 

 not to be printed. 



Throughout the breeding season, the Petrel is indefatigable in 

 search of food, and will follow ships for considerable distances, 

 in hopes of obtaining some of the offal that is thrown overboard 

 by the cook. Even if a cupful of oil be emptied into the water, 

 the Petrel will scoop it up in its bill, and take it home to its 

 young. During the night it mostly remains with its offspring, 

 feeding it, and making a curious grunting noise, something like 

 the croaking of frogs. This noise is continued throughout the 

 night, and those who have visited the great nesting places of the 

 Petrel, unite in mentioning it as a loud and peculiar sound. 

 The ordinary cry is low and short, something like the quacking 

 of a young duck. By day, however, the birds are silent, and only 

 those who keep nightly watch on the ship's deck, can have an 

 opportunity of hearing their chattering cry. 



The burrow in which the young Petrel is hatched is extremely 

 odoriferous, the oily food on which the bird lives having itself 

 a very rancid and imsavoury scent ; and in consequence of feeding 

 upon this substance, both the habitation and the inmates are 

 extremely offensive to the nostrils. The young bird is at first 



