6o THE BOOK OF BIRDS 



repeat the performance. Occasionally three engage at 

 once in this singular amusement." 



But the Albatross when afloat can be a very formidable 

 and fearsome enemy to man when the latter happens to be 

 at his mercy. His beak is capable of splitting a man's 

 skull, as easily as an eggshell, and ugly stories now and 

 again remind us, as I have said already, that this great 

 bird, like some of the bigger gulls, has an unpleasant habit 

 of swooping down upon any helpless creature, animal or 

 human. 



Such an instance occurred in 1885, when a merchant 

 seaman, Thomas Averett Whistler, won the Albert medal 

 for an act of great heroism. He was chief mate of the ship 

 Ennerdale, of Liverpool, which at that time was rounding 

 Cape Horn. About half-past five in the afternoon he was 

 asleep in his berth (it being his turn below) when the call 

 to man one of the boats startled him, and he rushed on 

 deck. He found that one of the seamen had leaped Over- 

 board to the rescue of an apprentice who had fallen from 

 the rigging. 



Whistler called for a lifebuoy to be thrown to him, and 

 sprang over the side. Getting hold of the lifebuoy he swam 

 to the man (the apprentice had sunk) and supported him 

 in the water. It was freezingly cold, with a fresh breeze 

 blowing, but Whistler kept hold of the buoy and the 

 exhausted seaman. 



Then out of the sky there swept down upon them both 

 a white bird with enormous wings. It was an Albatross. 

 Round and round it sailed, eyeing them greedily and 

 watching its opportunity to attack them. Again and 

 again it came near, and time and again Whistler by 

 shouting and flourishing his disengaged arm drove it 

 away. Would the boat never come? It did at last, but 



