THE TROPIC BIRD 
the wake of ships that sail in the South Atlantic, the 
South Pacific, and the Indian Ocean. His story, if 
he could tell it, would be of coral islands, crowned 
with feathery palms, of clear crystalline waves, each 
lovely as a jewel, of flying fish like little silver arrows, 
that leave the sea, flash through the air and vanish. 
Certainly the Tropic Bird is one of the most 
beautiful of sea-birds. The baby bird is an odd 
enough little creature, quite round, and covered with 
white fluffy down, but with tiny black markings on 
his wee wings. His beak is strong and long for such 
a little body, and his eyes are bright and intelligent. 
Some of the young ones are beautifully marked, 
barred above with black arrow-headed markings. 
These, when they grow up, have crimson beaks and 
long crimson tail-feathers. 
The Tropic Bird builds no nest, but lays a single 
egg, generally in the crevice of some cliff. The 
Yellow-billed Tropic Bird now and then lays her egg 
in the hollow of some tree, but she is the only one of 
her family who ever deserts the cliff dwellings. 
The little flying fish that are so common in 
warm seas are the favourite food of the Tropic Bird, 
and with these she feeds her young. 
