40 EDWARD A. WILSON. 
As we neared Cape Adare, we had Adélie Penguins in the water all around us, 
birds by hundreds dashing in and out like little dolphins, making very rapid travelling 
through the water, shooting into the air with heads drawn in and wings appressed, just 
clearing the water by a foot for a yard or more, and then in with the slightest little 
splash. When first seen, they may easily be mistaken for a school of fish. Under 
the water they wing their way with powerful strokes, often in a zig-zag course, 
especially if frightened, as a means, no doubt, of baffling the seals and Killer whales 
that are their terror. The feet and tail in this method of progression are used for 
steering only, but if the bird is at the surface, floating as he does low in the water, 
instead of the wings the feet will be used for propelling. 
In landing on a shelving shore, the bird merely swims till he can stand upright 
and walk, but in landing from deep water on an icefloe with its edge a foot or two 
above the water, he leaps like a salmon, with this difference, that instead of allowing 
his body to follow the curve of motion, he preserves the vertical position, and lands 
upon his feet, immediately running on a few paces or falling sometimes on his breast ; 
and in this landing leap the stiff tail feathers must be of use in preventing any 
tendency to fall backwards. 
Mr. Burn Murdoch has given three feet as a good leap, and I think this is quite 
likely, though their powers are not often put to such a test. In leaping from floe 
to floe across a crack of open water, they show no great athletic capabilities, and 
in crossing six inches or a foot, which is about as much as they ever dare attempt, 
their movements are exactly what one is wont to see if the same feat is performed by 
a child of three. If in their wanderings they come to a crack which is too wide to 
jump, and yet not wide enough for plunging into, they will follow the edge till they 
find a point more suited to their tastes ; but it takes much time and many hesitations 
before they decide the thing to be possible for either. 
Time, happily for them, is no object; but this at first sight one would hardly 
guess, their movements being always precise, busy, and preoccupied. It is only when 
one has watched a little party hurrying along for full half a mile in a direct line, as 
though upon some urgent business, suddenly stop and all go to sleep, or suddenly turn 
and go off in another direction, or come back upon some equally urgent call, that one 
begins to realise that their business is not always so important as it looks. 
On flat ice or snow they seem to prefer walking (fig. 33, p. 46), balancing 
themselves with their flippers, and leaving between their footmarks a sinuous track made 
by the tail. If hurried or fatigued by soft snow they will fall on their breasts, the 
polished feathers of which form an excellent runner surface for toboganning. They 
then leave a track which takes the form of a straight smooth groove with foot and 
wing marks on each side, each working in alternation with the other. 
On land, as, for example, in the rookeries, they progress as far as possible on their 
feet, and in making the longer journeys up the mountain sides, over very craggy 
rocks and really difficult steeps, they bring bill and wings into use as well as feet 
