130 \YILI) LI I-M-: IN CHINA. 



Witness my story, or rather the story of Thomas Edward, 

 the Scotch naturalist. Edward tells in his simple inimitable 

 style of watching a party of Pickietars (Terns, S. hirundo), 

 hoping some might come within reach and he added to his 

 collection. He dwells on the beauty of the scene, the indefati- 

 gable evolutions of the terns in their search for food, now 

 darting down on their finny prey, now soaring aloft again, 

 hovering on kestrel wing when in doubt, and then dropping 

 like a plummet, to emerge from the surface with a catch. 

 Just after such a dip, the chance came for a shot, and the 

 bird, winged, fell into the water. His cries brought his 

 companions up in hot haste. The wounded one was slowly 

 drifting ashore where Edward hoped to get it. He must 

 tell the rest in his own words : "Whilst matters were in this 

 position, I beheld to my utter astonishment and surprise, two 

 of the unwounded terns take hold of their disabled comrade, 

 one at each wing, lift him out of the water, and bear him out 

 seawards. They were followed by two other birds. After 

 being carried about six or seven yards, he was gently let 

 down again, when he was taken up by the two who hac' 

 hitherto been inactive. In this way they continued to carry 

 him alternately, until they had conveyed him to a rock at a 

 considerable distance, upon which they landed him in safety. 

 Having recovered my self-possession, I made toward the 

 rock, wishing to obtain the prize which had been so uncere- 

 moniously snatched from my grasp. I was observed, however, 

 by the terns: and instead of four, I had in a short time 

 a whole swarm about me. On my near approach to the 

 rock, I once more beheld two of them take hold of the 

 wounded bird as they had done already, and bear him out to 

 sea in triumph, far beyond my reach. This, had I been so 

 inclined, I could no doubt have prevented. Under the 

 circumstances, however, my feelings would not permit me, 

 and I willingly allowed them to perform without molestation 

 an act of mercy, and to exhibit an instance of affection, 

 which man himself need not be ashamed to imitate; I was 

 indeed rejoiced at the disappointment which they hac 1 

 occasioned, for they had thereby rendered me witness of a 

 scene which I could scarcely have believed, and which no 

 length of time will efface from my recollection." There 

 speaks a true sportsman and naturalist. 



Is there anybody who can read this story to find in it 

 nothing but instinct? If so, one can but be sorry for him. 

 For what have we here but one of the very things" on which 

 the Englishman above all others loves to pride himself 

 power to rise to the occasion, whatever the occasion may 

 be, power to adapt means to ends, to decide promptly what 

 ought to be done and then to do it, though it has never been 



