THE SEA HAWK 191 
banquet table, a flattish bit of grassy ground 
strewn with grisly relics of former feasts—skele- 
tons, bones, and curled grey feathers. Always 
the same site was used, and the chick, if inclined 
to linger or straggle to less level spots, was stimu- 
lated now and again by touches of beak, or lured 
on by simulated retching. During these pre- 
liminaries the conscientious bird immediately in 
attendance on the chick, advancing still into the 
open, would now and again pause, turning his or 
her head towards his or her fellows, as a setter 
at his point will slowly turn his head to ascertain 
the position of his master. Again by very slow, 
almost reverent glancings back and signallings— 
ghostly beckonings as it were of the minister’s 
hand from the pulpit—the chick is lured forward 
to the predestined spot. 
Although by this time there is an air of grave 
concern in the expression of each one of the trio, 
the two furthermost from the chick will never- 
theless sometimes loiter and linger, standing about, 
or one of them even continuing to sit, until the 
last moment. The entire absence of hurry, indeed, 
makes conspicuously apparent the utter trust 
placed by each on the others. Each, whether 
near the chick or far distant, is perfectly confident 
that he or she will not be ousted, or slighted, or 
forgotten. The more distant parents now move 
forward, for each of them knows that the act of 
