92 



Royal Penguins commence coming to the Macquarie Islands in January to moult — their breeding 

 season being from September to the beginning of December. Although we did not arrive until March 

 the birds had not all finished moulting then, but kept coming in from the sea until almost the end of 

 the month. 



When the Penguins first arrive, they are so fat that they can hardly walk, and are just able to 

 waddle up to the rookeries. Owing to the birds arriving at different dates, the moulting lasts for three 

 months, but the actual time a Penguin takes to moult is only three weeks. During the whole of this 

 period the birds do not eat, but gradually absorb all their fat, to prevent themselves from starving. The 

 circumference of a Penguin before moulting is about three times that of one which has moulted ; so 

 striking is this difference, that at first we were fully convinced that they were the old and young re- 

 spectively. 



Having got rid of his old coat, a Penguin looks very handsome in his new plumage — everything 

 he has on seems to fit so well, and is of such an excellent cut. But he is so thin, that it seems as if 

 his breast-bone must cut through the skin. 



The cunning with which Penguins land amid the awful surf is wonderful. They face the wave just 

 before it breaks, and dive underneath, coming up again behind, ready for the next one ; by-and-by one 

 comes which seems smaller to them than the previous ones, and then they roll themselves up into a ball, 

 and are swept on to the shore with terrific force. The speed with which they are carried on does not 

 matter in the least to them; and we see them being rolled over and over on the beach, until the wave 

 begins to go back, when they uncurl, and waddle up to the dry shingle, shaking themselves to get the 

 water off their feathers. Sometimes the back-wash is too strong for the birds, and they are carried again 

 into the sea ; however, the operation is repeated, until finally one sees them safe upon the beach, waiting 

 for their mates to land, before starting off to the rookeries. 



All the Penguins go about in pairs, and the in-coming birds form a long white line round the beach, 

 marching two by two, until the creek leading to the rookeries is reached. Here, in spite of the millions 

 of little feet which have passed along, the ground becomes too rough and narrow for double marching, and 

 the birds separate; one going a little way ahead, stopping constantly and looking anxiously round to see 

 if the other is following close enough. Wherever the path permits it, the pairs rejoin, and walk again 

 side by side. The consideration shown by the mates to each other is a very pretty sight, and affords 

 a lesson to poor suffering humanity ; but it would hardly do to follow them in all things — as for instance 

 the constant quarrelling with their neighbours : this weakness is developed to an alarming extent, and the 

 noise of the fighting is dreadful. 



In the rookery the birds stand upright with their mates, their white breasts often touching, thus helping 

 each other to stand more comfortably. Day by day their feathers become more untidy, and the birds seem to 

 grow bigger and bigger, until those who have moulted look like little children beside the others. Then 

 gradually the feathers fall off", and the bird itself hastens matters with its beak. In the awkward places the 

 mates help each other, and the confidence with which each bird turns to the other when it cannot help itself 

 is very interesting. 



If two Eoyal Penguins are separated, and carried a little way out of sight, they walk disconsolately 

 about until they see each other again. As soon as they find their mates they rush together, and the intense 

 joy expressed by every movement, as they are hurrying forward, is impossible to describe. There is a 

 humming and flapping of wings as they meet, and a soft ' cawing ' noise, until at last they sink upon one 

 another's necks and talk love in their peculiar Penguin language. These birds seem to be an intensely loving 

 race, although their emotions are somewhat narrow — never extending beyond the ' family circle.' 



The rookeries are on the slopes of the hills, and the top Penguins have a very trying time after they have 

 finished moulting : they have to pass right through the rookery to get to the sea, and every bird pecks at them 

 as they pass. Their method of going through is to hold up their heads as high as they can, and make a dash 

 for it, resting wherever there is room to stand out of reach of the unfriendly beaks of the other Penguins. 

 Sometimes one of a pair arrives at the bottom first ; but, instead of rushing off to the water (and they do love 

 the sea), it waits patiently until its mate arrives also, then they waddle off together, both very weak from their 

 long fast, but full of eagerness to get into the water. As they get down near the edge, their steps quicken, and 

 they both run in, and stay swimming and diving out among the breakers for some little time. Then they 

 come to land again, and prune their feathers with scrupulous care, shaking and stretching their wings, as if 

 to test whether they are at all stiff, after their long rest. 



