TALES OF FISHES 



"Boobies," said Manuel and motioned me to go 

 forward. 



They greeted our approach with the most discord- 

 ant din it had ever been my fortune to hear. A 

 mingHng of honk and cackle, it manifested not excite- 

 ment so much as curiosity. I walked among the 

 boobies, and they never moved except to pick at 

 me with long, sharp bills. Many were sitting on 

 nests, and all around in the sand were nests with 

 eggs, and little boobies just hatched, and others ia 

 every stage of growth, up to big babies of birds like 

 huge balls of pure white wool. I wondered where the 

 thousands of mothers were. The young ones showed 

 no concern when I picked them up, save to dig into 

 me with curious bills. 



I saw an old booby, close by, raise his black-barred 

 wings, and, flapping them, start to run across the 

 sand. In this way he launched himself into the air 

 and started out to sea. Presently I noticed several 

 more flying away, one at a time, while others came 

 sailing back again. How they could sail! They 

 had the swift, graceful flight of a falcon. 



For a while I puzzled over the significance of this 

 outgoing and incoming. Shortly a bird soared 

 overhead, circled with powerful sweep, and alighted 

 within ten feet of me. The bird watched me with 

 gray, unintelligent eyes. They were stupid, un- 

 canny eyes, yet somehow so fixed and staring as to 

 seem accusing. One of the little white balls of wool 

 waddled up and, rubbing its fuzzy head against the 

 booby, proclaimed the filial relation. After a few 

 rubs and wabbles the young bird opened wide its 

 bill and let out shrill cries. The mother bobbed 



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