194 BIRD LIFE ON ISLAND AND SHORE 
offence to propriety, or may have begun to tickle, 
the bird would blow its nose by plunging its beak 
into the soft soil. We blow our human noses into 
our pockets; the Sea Hawk blows his into the 
earth—we may deem our method the more refined 
—certainly our noses are too soft and wobbly 
to dive into the ground, but few, I think, will 
affirm that it is the more sanitary. 
When first I saw the Sea Hawk on the sands 
of Mason Bay, dour, lowering, commonplace, I 
then had no expectation whatsoever of finding 
aught in the bird of good or grace. I was to leave 
Kotiwhenu awakened to a selflessness in the 
breed, a magnanimity not often discoverable in 
man. Gift of a little knowledge had been granted 
me; a fresh impression, a pregnant hint. Such 
is the treasure-trove of the field naturalist, his 
harvest gathered of the wilds—and if to one, 
why not to all? May it not be that in the future, 
with thousands devoted to nature study for every 
one who is so now—may it not be that in such 
devotion the healing of the nations may be found ? 
Only from nature’s realm can a new province be 
interchanged without offence; only from nature’s 
realm a conquest won without exacerbation. Even 
as to all living things water is not a source of 
strife, even as wild herds will lap out of the same 
stream, as dogs without jealousy will share the 
same pool, so surely will the nations participate 
