.

mighty mysteries, when thus severed from accustomed scenes, pursuits, and speculations. In the monotony of all days at sea, any variation is an event; a new fish seen swimming by, or an oddly shaped cloud, makes a white day in one's calendar; and the remembrance of their comparative greatness at the time has perhaps caused me to invest with undue importance many trivial matters scarcely worth the recital.

CHAPTER IV.

Whales and "jets-d'eau" - Birds-Boatswain-Boobies-Cape PigeonMischief of Idleness-" Mr. Winkles" at Sea-Great Albatross-Nelly— Stormy Petrel-Blue Petrel-Sailors' Delicacies-Stormy Weather.

VERY different from the doubtful notions I held about dolphins were my ideas of a whale as seen at sea, for in the representation of these huge monsters of the deep, all painters and gravers are unanimous in opinion, and alike in their mode of portraiture. Accordingly I knew perfectly well, when summoned from my cabin by the report of a whale being in sight, that I should behold an enormous black mass standing far out of the water, with a huge semicircular mouth surmounted by two trumpet-like apertures, from which a double stream of clear water was perpetually flung some forty or fifty feet into the air, falling again in a graceful curve, precisely like the "jets-d'eau" in ancient gardens. With such a foregone conclusion as to what was to be seen, I came on deck, and gazed round in search of the living fountain I describe; my inability to discover it being rendered tenfold more vexatious by hearing the sailors and others exclaim, "There she spouts!" "She spouts again!" till Mr. Meredith, seeing me vacantly scanning the whole horizon, drew my attention to one particular spot, where, after looking intently for about a minute, I observed something like a puff of steam rise gently from the water; and this was the spouting of a whale! Many a time since have I laughed at the recollection, but the shock my faith then received it will never recover, nor shall I ever forget the useful lesson I then learned, not to take too much on credit.

This absurd habit which people have got into, of depicting the whale as spouting distinct streams of water to such a height, though it may have originated in ignorance, cannot in these days of universal knowledge be permitted that apology for its continuance. But having once created so charming a fiction, I imagine these good folks are loth to rob the poor whales of the

childish admiration our school-book pictures receive, and so doubtless they will spout steeple high till the whole real race is extinct-a palpable proof of the triumph of romance over reality.

The spout-holes are simply the nostrils of the animal, and when, as he swims along, these chance to be below the surface of the water at the moment he breathes, the act of respiration blows the water from within and above the nostrils into the air in the form of vapour or steam.

The only time when anything like a stream proceeds from the blow-holes is when the creature is severely wounded; then he sometimes spouts blood. Frequently a thin haze is observed by whalers blowing along the sea, like the foamy crest of a wave scudding before the wind; and following back the course of this with the eye, the "blow of a whale is often observed, sending off these whiffs of vapour. If seen between the boats and the shore, an inexperienced person would often mistake it for smoke on land.

A parasitical polype, peculiar to the whale, is generally found firmly attached to the skin of the animal when full-grown, especially about the head and lips; but it is a curious fact, and one which I do not remember ever to have seen noticed, that at the time of birth (and even previously) the young whales are marked with exact impressions or scars, of the precise form of the polypes, in those parts where afterwards the real parasites invariably appear.

We had hitherto seen very few birds; one day a beautiful white one, with two very long tail-feathers, flew over and round the ship, and many murderous proposals were made by the idlers to shoot it; but my entreaties for its life, strengthened by the superstitious warnings of the sailors, who seemed to regard it as a good omen of something or other, preserved the poor thing, and I had the happiness of seeing it fly away unharmed. It was the boatswain, or frigate-bird. We only saw that one bird of the kind during the passage, and certainly it was the most beautiful as well as the rarest of our feathered visitants.

Soon afterwards two or three boobies paid us a flying call, very possibly to see some relatives on board; of course the ties of affinity preserved them from molestation. Lord Byron, in his inimitable description of Juan's shipwreck, very aptly associates

the noddy with the boobies, but no noddy accompanied ours, that I am aware of.

We fell in with numbers more of the feathered people, as we increased our distance from the equator; most abundant were the Cape pigeons, or "passenger's friend" (Procellaria Capensis). Had the sobriquet been "passenger's victim," it had been far more appropriate, for it appears the universal custom-shame on those who make it so!-to massacre these poor harmless and really beautiful birds for the mere wanton love of destruction. Every one possessed of a gun, powder, and shot aids in the slaughter, or at least does his worst; and besides the killed, I have watched many and many a poor wounded bird, disabled from flying or procuring food, float helplessly away to perish in pain and starvation, because some heartless blockhead had no other resource to kill time than breaking its leg or wing. Often did I think of the line in the good old nursery hymn,

"For Satan finds some mischief still

For idle hands to do;"

and never was its truth more fully exemplified.

Hooks, baited with pork, were also used to fish for them; but as very few were caught in this manner, it proved a far more harmless amusement, and the exhibition of their natural voracity, which it occasioned, somewhat dulled one's sympathy with them. The moment a freshly-baited hook was flung astern, a crowd of pigeons would assemble round it, flying, swimming, scuffling through the water, as the tempting morsel skipped along the surface, scolding and driving each other away with most expressive cries. Very probably a great albatross is watching the result, as he hovers with a still, solemn aspect above the bustling, squabbling crowd. The pigeons succeed in pulling the pork from the hook, and the tumult is redoubled when, in the heat of the battle, the booty is dropped, and the wary albatross, with a sudden and sure plunge, relieves them from all further contention by appropriating the dainty morsel to his own use. Such a scene is acted twenty times a day; sometimes the bird greedily swallows the bait and hook together, and flies high into the air, whence the fisher gradually winds him down; but this is no warning to the survivors, who are as eager for the next throw of the treacherous bait as if none of their number had suffered by its deception.

The Cape pigeon is a small kind of albatross, much larger in the body than a pigeon, and with a great span of wing for its size. The plumage is white, beautifully marked with black on the back and wings, and their black eyes have a very peculiar, but soft and pleasing expression. The various attitudes of a group of these pretty birds, as they are seen closely following the ship-some swimming, others sitting on the water, or running along it with outspread wings, or just lighting down-are really very graceful and beautiful, and were a constant source of amusement to me, whenever their valorous enemies allowed them

a truce.

A sportsman of the "Winkles" school is quite dangerous enough on shore, but when to all the awkwardness of such characters is added their utter helplessness at sea, and their invariable rule of stumbling along, with a loaded gun on full cock aimed directly at the nearest person's head, it may easily be conceived what perilous chances occur. Of this class were several violent specimens on board our vessel, all most determined, but most innocent foes of the unfortunate pigeons, as it most frequently happened that they hit a rope or a sail, instead of the bird, having no idea of allowing for the motion of the vessel. The appearance of these gentry on the quarter-deck, weapon in hand, soon became my signal of retreat.

The Cape pigeons are very rarely met with beyond their peculiar track, which extends from 35° to 55° south latitude, within which boundaries they encircle the globe as with a living zone.

The great white albatross (Diomedia exulans) fully realized all my ideas of its grandeur and solemnity. I never saw it without thinking of Coleridge's wild and wondrous tale of the "Ancient Mariner;" nor can there possibly be any creature more fitted to take part in such a dread and ghostly narrative than this melancholy, grave, and most majestic bird. It soars along with widely-expanded wings that often measure fifteen or eighteen feet between the tips, with an even, solemn flight, rarely seeming to stir, but as if merely floating along. Now and then a slow flapping motion serves to raise him higher in the air, but the swift movement and busy flutter of other birds seem beneath his dignity. He sails almost close to you, like a silent spectre. Nothing of life appears in his still, motionless form, but his keen