CHAPTER XXIII 

 THE ALBATROSS 



NO bird that flies is more rightfully entitled to the 

 proud name of King of the Sea Air than is the beau- 

 tiful subject of the present story. Nor are there 

 any of the inhabitants of the air whose home is about 

 the raging billows to whom more mystery, more poetical 

 personality, can be attached than the Albatross. There 

 is something about him which differentiates him from 

 all other sea birds, yes, from all other birds that fly. 

 Principally because, in spite of his great size, he is at 

 home only on the wing, and does not seem to require 

 rest. In this latter particular he is even surpassed 

 by the tiny stormy petrel, but one can hardly compare 

 the little untiring flutterer that skips so blithely from 

 crest to crest of the waves with the great calm bird 

 that hovers majestically in mid-air, needing not to 

 give one single flap of his wide-spreading wings in 

 order to maintain his position against the utmost 

 force of the storm. 



Nothing can be better calculated to impress the 

 beholder with the marvellous wisdom of the Creator 

 in fitting His creatures for their position in the world 

 than the sight of an Albatross bearing a ship company 

 in the lone Southern Ocean. Let the vessel, handled 

 by the most courageous and skilful captain, put on 

 what speed she may before the tremendous thrust of 



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