The California Gull 
without power. Thus we shall have acquired by laborious mastery what 
the birds have as a free gift. 
But to get back to those gulls we are watching. Forward and back, 
to and fro, and around—why, Hello! There’s a bird without any feet. 
Won’t he have a hard time of it though! And now—why, there’s another! 
Not a vestige! The immaculate feathers close over the footless stumps 
and betray no sign of their presence. The wind is searching, and Mr. 
Gull, who does not approve of chilblains, kicks his yellow feet one at a 
time under the white .blanket of feathers provided by the under tail- 
coverts, and proceeds, footless, upon the mazy journey. What’s the use 
of feet, anyway, when you have wings? 
On the voyage, feet are useful only as the birds take turns at the mast¬ 
head, pausing for a moment with wings gracefully outstretched until they 
have mastered the motion of the boat. These stations on mast and flag¬ 
staff are jealously coveted, and the gull that would hold one must be vigi¬ 
lant in defense, or at least ready to bluff the aspirant with a mighty scowl. 
Otherwise a quick dab from behind will upset the dignified Burgomaster, 
balance, dignity, and all. But who may comprehend by epithet or episode 
the unflagging charm of the white-winged fleet,—now in the van leading 
away with brave impudence, now registering a retreat with far-flung 
shadows on the smoke-stack, now trailing laboriously in the wake, like 
faithful hounds in leash. What humility of supplication! What perfect 
independence! What condescension of grace! What boundless exultation 
of wings, wings , wings! Oh, who would not give hands and feet for wings! 
Is it any wonder that the lure of the air has caught us, and that we are 
still offering up the lives of our best and bravest upon the altar of pro¬ 
gressive “achievement”? 
Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
A FLOCK OF HYDROPLANES 
1403 
