THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 235 
which at last forced him to retire into the water, 
snarling with an ugly noise, and showing his long 
teeth.”* 
Dividing the dominion of these inhospitable islands 
with the Seals, may be seen myriads of Penguins; 
curious birds, which seem to be the link which con- 
nects the feathered with the finny race. Their 
little wings, destitute of quills, but covered with stiff 
scaly feathers, hang down by their sides, perfectly 
incompetent to lift them from the ground, resem- 
bling in’ shape the fins of a fish, or still more the 
flippers of a turtle. But see the Penguin in the 
water; the deficiency of flight is abundantly com- 
pensated by the power and agility it possesses in 
this element: it dashes along over the surface in 
gallant style, or diving, shoots through the water 
with the rapidity of a fish, urging its course by the 
united action of its finny wings and its broad 
webbed feet; then, coming again to the top, leaps 
over any obstacle in its course, many feet at a bound, 
and pursues its way. On the sandy shores or flat 
rocks in the Southern Ocean, the Penguins, of several 
species, assemble in innumerable multitudes, for the 
purpose of hatching their eggs and rearing their 
young. The feet are placed very far back on the 
body, so that the bird assumes an erect position when 
resting or walking on land; and from their posture, 
their colours, their numbers, and their orderly ar- 
rangement, they have been compared, when seen at a 
distance, to an army of disciplined soldiers. One voy- 
ager likens them to a troop of little children standing 
* Kerr’s Voyages, x. 374. 
