Birds. 1819 



sun, sinking among his gilded piles and peaks of cloud on the horizon-sea, leaves the 

 air refreshingly cool and balmy, while the dying sea-breeze scarcely avails to break 

 the glassy reflection of the surface, — the straggling flocks of pelicans, from a dozen to 

 forty or fifty, passing slowly along over the shore. On such occasions, they manifest 

 a decided tendency to form long continuous strings, like ducks. When the flocks are 

 beating for fish, or sailing round and round on the watch, there is no such arrange- 

 ment, but all circle in a confusion equal to that of the planets of the Ptolemaic sys- 

 tem. Yet at any time of the day, in taking a lengthened flight, whether shifting 

 their locality, or slowly sweeping over the sea, they usually take a lineal order. 



" In flying thus in lines, I have been struck with the unity which they manifest in 

 their motions : the flight is performed by alternate intervals of heavy flappings, and 

 sailing on outstretched motionless wing ; and the resumption or suspension of the one 

 or the other state is regulated by the leading bird of the line. For example, the first 

 begins to flap ; in an instant the second begins, then the third, then the fourth, and 

 so on, with perfect regularity of succession ; and neither ceases till the first does, and 

 then only each in his own turn. That this does not depend on the period of each mo- 

 tion being constant, is shown by the fact, that the duration of either state is 

 very varying and arbitrary. If a bird be following the same course, near at hand, but 

 not within the line, he does not regard the succession at all, but governs his own 

 motion. 



" The pelican, on alighting on the water to swim, brings his feet, which before had 

 been stretched out behind, into a standing position, and, as it were, slides along the sur- 

 face for several yards before he swims.'' — p. 410. 



The Booby (Sula parva). — " The sympathy shown by gregarious birds for their 

 wounded companions is usually never more strongly manifested than in the boobies. 

 In the wanton sport of shooting at them, when sailing past the kays and islets they re- 

 sort to, there are few who have not witnessed the extraordinary efforts made by the cla- 

 morous flock to assist a wounded bird, when fluttering in the water, and unable to re- 

 gain the wing. An accident which happened to one of the two boobies we have in our 

 yard, gave us an opportunity of seeing traits of this feeling and of its attendant emo- 

 tions. My little nephew, in chasing with a small whip one of our birds, entangled 

 the lash about its wing, and snapped the arm-bone. The one bird not alone showed 

 sympathy for the other, but exhibited curiosity about the nature and character of the 

 accident. Our two birds are male and female. The wounded booby withdrew into a 

 lonely part of the yard, and stood there drooping. The female sought him as soon as 

 she heard his cry of agony, and after ascertaining, by surveying him all round, that the 

 injury was in the w r ing, proceeded to prevail on him to move the limb, that she might 

 see whether he was really disabled beyond the power of using it for flight. After a 

 quacking honk or two, as a call to do something required of him, the female stretched 

 out one of her wings ; — the wounded male imitated her, and, making an effort, moved 

 out, in some sort of way, the wounded member to its full length. He was now- 

 required by a corresponding movement to raise it : — he raised the broken arm, but 

 the wing could not be elevated. The curiosity of the female was at a stand-still. 

 After a moment's pause, her wounded companion was persuaded to make another trial 

 at imitation, and to give the wings some three or four good flaps. He followed the 

 given signal, gave the required beats on the air w r ith so thorough a good will, to meet 

 the wishes of his curious mate, that he twirled the broken wing quite round, and 

 turned it inside out. The mischief was prodigiously increased. It was now necessary 



