THE CORMORANT'S HOME. 
171 
owl has never obtained. To most pereons the aspect of the bird is 
repellent, and seems to justify all kinds of wild weird notions. The 
" ill-faced owl," therefore, has become " death's dreadful messenger ; " 
and, as Addison says, a screech-owl at midnight will awaken more 
alarm than a band of robbers. To this day do we not all feel that a 
certain ominous and sombre tone is given at the outset to Keats' 
" Eve of St. Agnes " by its significant opening line, — 
"The owl, for all his feathers, \¥as a-cold'"? 
MORE WATER-BIRDS. 
The bold, wind-swept headland, the lofty cliff resounding with the 
thunder of incessant waters, and the craggy islet, are the cormorant's 
favourite habitat. In such localities he is found in great numbers; for 
in such localities he can supply himself with aburxdant food. When the 
tide has ebbed, you may see him and his comrades standing idly on the 
rocks, some with wings expanded, to dry them in the warm sunshine ; 
others reposing, with the head sheltered under one of the grayish 
brown wings, or directed forwards on their retracted neck. At the 
approach of a boat they immediately take flight, launching in a curved 
line, and flying low over the water, moderately swift, but always 
soberly and in silence. They nowhere alight on land, except on rock ; 
and owing to the structure of their feet and body, their motions in 
walking are exceedingly awkward. On the sea they alight heavily, 
and sit deep in the water; and when alarmed they sink deeper and 
deeper still, until they are almost invisible. The ease and swiftness 
with which they swim is extraordinary ; and so is their dexterity 
in diving. They make a sudden dart or dash, not opening their wings 
until they are below the surface, when they employ them, as well 
as their feet, to propel themselves. They move forward several yards, 
when they rise from the water into the air; and apparently, before tliey 
can fly freely, considerable exertion of the wings and feet is necessary. 
The cormorant lives upon small fishes, up to the size of a herring ; 
whether living or dead, matters nothing; and his voracity has made 
his name proverbial. He is found on almost every rocky coast, where 
he may be seea perched on a wind-beaten tree, or on a weather-worn 
