by Edith Howes
"Hurrah!" said Bobby. "Now I shall still travel on, without beingobliged to do my own swimming."
A more wonderful change than ever before came over him. A tiny bag ofcement opened from his head and glued him to the whale's skin. Sixstrong shells grew round him in an acorn ring, exactly like those ofhis mother's shell-house on the rock. Four more grew into a door.When he opened the door he could shoot out his twelve curled legs andkick his food down into his mouth in the shell-house. So there he was,living head down and toes up on the whale, and glued so tightly that hecould never fall off.
He was grown-up now. All his changes were over. His appetite cameback, and he went travelling easily and comfortably with the whale.For all you or I know to the contrary, his roving life may be stillgoing on.
IV.--LITTLE STARFISH
He floated in the depths of the cool salt sea, an egg so small as toremain unnoticed and undevoured. Later, he hatched into a queer-shapedcreature, not at all like a starfish, rather like a lump of jelly, witha thick end pushed out here and there. He swam and ate, and grewlarger every day. From the sea-food he ate his wonderful little bodyhad power to draw minute particles of lime and build them into astar-shaped framework within itself. Slowly the firm star grew,spreading its rays on every side, and absorbing into itself the softwalls of his earlier body, until at last he was a starfish.
He was strangely made. His mouth was underneath the middle of hisbody, a small red eye lay at the tip of each ray-arm. His legs, scoresof them, were small and white, and could be pushed out or drawn in atwill from his ray-arms. Drawing in sea water through narrow passagesin his body, he could fill these legs and make them firm, and so crawlup the steepest rocks or creep slowly over the smooth sea-floor. Whenhe did not wish to walk he drew the water from his legs and tucked themup inside his arms. The last foot of each ray-arm was at once his noseand finger, for by it he smelt and felt. On his back were spines, someof them snapping in the sea like scissor-blades, to keep his skin cleanand free from parasites.
He roamed slowly here and there in search of food. Companies ofbrother starfishes went with him. They were a hungry crowd, and sonumerous that soon there was very little left to eat in their valley ofthe sea.
"I shall travel," said Little Starfish. "Perhaps I shall find a betterfeeding-place."
He set off. Sometimes he swam, sometimes he floated with the waves,sometimes he dropped to the bottom and crawled over the sand or rocks.After several days he came to land. The tide was going in; the waveswere dancing gaily up the stony beach.
"Carry me, please," said Little Starfish.
He laid himself in the arms of a wave and was carried merrily up thebeach and left in a pool amongst the rocks.
"This is a good feeding-place," said the wave, as she set him down.
It was indeed a good feeding-place. All the rock creatures had openedtheir shells to feast on the myriads of tiny things brought in by thetide. The pool was awhirl with life. Shrimps darted to and fro,barnacles and limpets raised themselves from their rocks, furry-leggedhermit crabs ran about under their borrowed shells. Best of all,tempting rock oysters, fat and juicy, sat with their shells agape, tocatch their daily meal. Little Starfish's mouth fairly watered at thesweet smell of them. Pushing out his scores of white sucker-feet, hepulled himself up inch by inch to where the first one sat. As soon asthe oyster felt him near, snap went the shell. But Little Starfish wastoo quick for him. One strong ray-arm was in the shell before theedges met, and hope was over for the oyster. Little Starfish swallowedhim, and then crawled on to find another as delicious.
"So glad to find you at home," he joked, as he poked his arm into thenext open shell.
"We'll see about that," remarked the oyster. He snapped his shellhard, hard. How it hurt! He was a powerful oyster, and the edges ofthe shell caught the arm in a tender spot. Crunch! went the oysterviciously, and off broke the arm in the middle. Little Starfish swampainfully away from that terrible oyster, leaving half an arm in theshell.
"How tiresome!" he said. "Now I shall have to give up travelling whileI grow again."
He crept away into a safe hiding-place under the sea. There he grew anew half-arm, coming out again as strong as ever, but far morecautious. Many another feast he had on the oyster rocks, but neveragain did he hunt so recklessly.
V.--KELP
A tiny sea-weed spore loosened itself from its place in a forked branchof the mother sea-weed, whirled itself round and round in the water,and began to sink towards the sea-floor. A passing current caught it,lifted it, and carried it far past its old home to where a cluster ofbare rocks guarded the shore. Here, broken up by the rocks, thecurrent weakened. The spore, carried into the calmer waters of asheltered pool, eddied, trembled, and slowly sank. From the sporesprang amber-coloured rootlets, fixing it firmly to a rock. A littleamber-coloured stem grew upwards through the sea, growing ever thickerand stronger as the weeks went on, till at last it reached the top.Drawing its daily food from the nourishing sea, the plant went on fromstrength to strength. Amber branches grew; amber leaves, veined andthin and long, swayed with every movement of the water. Spores formedand loosed themselves, and whirled and slowly sank, to grow in turn toneighbour plants amongst the rocks.
Year after year passed by, through winter's rains and summer's gentle,sun-kissed days, till many years had flown. From the tiny spore, whichin that earlier day was borne so helplessly, had grown a mighty forest.Great lifting, drifting trees of kelp, their roots like iron bandsabout the rocks, their heavy limbs upheld by rows of air-filled floats,swayed back and forth with every rolling wave. Hidden, protected bythe giant boughs, what life was here! What a wonder-scene of beauty!Delicate sea-plants, red and purple and green, waved their slenderfronds beneath the shelter of their stronger forest brothers.Bright-scaled fishes darted through the trees. Shell-fish, safe inspiral, fluted homes, climbed their trunks and cut with saw-edgedtongues sweet daily meals of amber leaf and stem. Sea-urchins andstarfishes crawled over their roots; anemones spread their lovely cruelarms to catch their prey; shell-less sea-snails, crystal clear, hidbetween the branches, peering out with bright black eyes at all thatpassed in this gay water-world. At night, a million tinyphosphorescent creatures shone and glowed from every leaf and branchand stone, as if a million fairy lanterns had been lit beneath the sea.
A great storm came. Far out to sea the black clouds lowered; theyloosed their lightning sheets. The leaden rollers rose and fell andmuttered to the thunder's crash. Sea-birds screamed and fled to land.From the line where sea met sky came the hoarse, roaring wind, lashinglittle waves into foaming billows, tearing them up and flinging themfar through the maddened air. Below the surface of the sea theswimming, crawling creatures sank like startled shadows to the floorfor safety till the storm was past. Only the great kelp trees wereleft to bear its brunt. Wave after wave crashed against the branches,tossed them this way and that, whipped off their floats and leaves,tore the slighter stems away and strewed them high upon the rocks.
When the storm was over, and sunny days had come again, and childrenplayed and paddled on the beach, the sand was strewn with littlefloats. The children stamped on them, and laughed to hear them pop asthe pent-up air escaped. One toddler wondered loudly what they wereand where they grew. Down among the rocks the wearied seaweed raisedits torn and battered branches through the sea, and set to work againto grow its slender stems, its ridge-veined leaves, its scores ofpointed amber floats. Slowly its full beauty returned, till once againthe fairy lights shone on the old gay life of wonderland.
VI.--BLACK SHAG
Black Shag was a lonely bird, but she liked her loneliness, and droveaway intruders. Her special haunt was a narrow inlet of the sea,winding between peaceful bush that overlooked the little lapping waves.Here she would swim for hours, her graceful head sometimes erect,sometimes bent beneath the sea to watch for prey. A silvery gleam, amovement of a fin, and like a hurled stone she would dive and pursue,hun
ting the fleeing fish until she overtook it. Seizing it in herlong, hooked bill, she bore it up to the air, there to gulp it wholedown her capacious throat. Then below she would go again to hunt forfurther feasts. Her appetite was marvellous; she was no delicate ladyin her feeding. Fortunately, fish were plentiful and varied in herinlet of the sea.
Tired of swimming, she would fly up to her favourite perching place--agreat bare rock that overhung the water. Here she spread her longblack wings to dry them in the sun, and preened her bronzy back andwhite throat band and glossy breast. She could not, like a duck, shakeherself but once and then be dry, for so little oil have her kind fortheir feathers that "as wet as a shag" has become a world-wide saying.But sun and winds helped in her drying, and time made no calls on her.For long hours she sat there at her ease, silent, solitary, satisfied.
Winter passed. With the first warm breath of early spring, when freshlife woke in bush and shore and sea, her last year's mate came up theinlet seeking her. "Come with me," he said. At the wordsmother-longings stirred in Black Shag's heart. Into her thoughts camememories of nest and shining eggs, of helpless babies, and her love forthem. She left her rock. With her mate she flew along the coast towhere her people built their rookery year by year. Here were friendsand busy life. High cliffs faced the sea. On the top, where strong,coarse grasses grew, nests were built beside each other. Sticks weregathered and twisted in and out, grass blades were pulled and laidamongst the sticks; then the nest was ready for the eggs.
Three handsome green-white eggs soon lay in Black Shag's nest. Thenfollowed the long sitting, the mother's patient sacrifice of food andfreedom; till at last the eggs were hatched, and three half-fluffed,half-naked babies lay beneath the sheltering breast. They showed nobeauty to a casual eye, but their mother thought them perfect. In herfond eyes no baby birds could be more sweet and lovable. Gone was nowthe old life for Black Shag, with its leisureliness and ease. Withthree children to feed and guard, the days became a rush of work. "Youmust help, father," she said to her mate. In turns they fished,swallowing enough for the babies as well as themselves, then returningto the nest and drawing up from their long food-bags the delicious oilyfish that the children loved.
The babies grew fat. Fluffy down grew so thickly over them that theybegan to look like brown and white balls of wool. Nestling together,they kept one another warm; gradually Black Shag found herself able toleave them for longer and longer periods. They fished together now,she and the father Shag. As the children grew bigger still, and moreand more able to take care of themselves, the parents stayed away allday. They flew off in the morning to their favourite fishing waters,satisfied their own hunger, and loaded themselves with extra fish, thenreturned at nightfall to feed the clamouring little ones.
The summer months passed by. In the nest the children grew full-sizedand feathered. "Learn to swim and fish for yourselves," cried BlackShag, and she tumbled them one by one into the water below. There theyfloundered about till they learned to paddle with their black webbedfeet. Then the mother left them, knowing that her work for them wasdone.
Back to her old haunt she went, to live again, till spring returned,her life of leisured ease. In her narrow inlet, where peaceful bushoverlooks the little lapping waves, she hunts her daily feasts, or sitsfor hours upon her bare brown rock, silent, satisfied, alone.
VII.--THROUGH DAYS OF GROWTH
On a grassy tableland a pair of albatrosses made their nest. They duga ring of earth and pushed it into a central mound, then hollowed outthe top and lined it with grass. Here the mother laid her one whiteegg. Father and mother took turns in sitting on the egg. When thelittle one was hatched they again took turns in feeding him andsheltering him from cold sea winds. All through the summer days andnights they tended him with utmost love and care, until, when autumncame, they could safely leave him in the nest. Then back to their oldsea life they went, skimming the rolling waves throughout the day, butwinging their patient way at each fresh dawn to feed their little one.
Where they had left him, there the baby albatross sat in his nest, dayafter day, week after week, month after month. His thick brown coat ofdown kept him warm, his rich morning meals supplied his growth, hisstillness fattened him. Motionless he sat, hour by hour. Above himsea birds wheeled against the bright blue sky and golden sun. Windsdanced among the grasses; storms drove over the hills. Half a mileaway the racing waves boomed loudly up the beach. At night the quietstars looked down on his contented sleep.
A wild duck came and looked at him.
"How slow you are!" she cried. "Why don't you move? My babies learnedto fly and swim long months ago, yet they are not so old as you."
He turned untroubled eyes towards the sea.
"Some day," he said, "I shall follow where the white waves lead. Mytime has not yet come."
The wild duck flapped impatiently.
"Slow!" she said. "If you were mine I'd turn you off that nest beforeanother day had passed."
She flew away. The baby albatross still sat and watched the sky andsun, and listened to the waves.
Summer came again. One afternoon the parent birds returned. Theystroked their little one and fondled him with loving beaks.
"Dear one, you must leave the nest," his mother said. "We need it forthis season's egg."
The baby was dismayed. "But I do not wish to go! The nest is mine,"he said.
"It is not good that you should stay too long in it," his mother said."You are nearly twelve months old. It is time for you to learn to flyand swim. Come off, and exercise yourself."
But the baby was afraid. "I don't know where to go," he said. "I muststay here." He would not move.
Between the mother and the father passed an understanding look. Withtheir strong bills they gently turned him off the nest and rolled himon the ground. "Pick yourself up and go down to the sea," laughed themother. She sat on the nest to keep him off.
The baby picked himself up and looked at them. It was hard tounderstand this treatment, after all their loving care of him.However, he had rather liked his feelings when he flapped his wings toright himself, so he flapped them once again. He raised himself andtried to fly; he waddled several steps on his wide webbed feet. But hewas fat and heavy, and his limbs were soft and quite unused toexercise; he was soon glad to rest.
"Keep at it," said his mother. "Power will come with use."
For several days he stayed about the nest, encouraged by the parentbirds to exercise his wings till he could fly. Then very slowly hemade his journey to the sea, walking, flying, resting, sleeping on theway, for many days and nights, till at last that long half-mile waspassed, and the welcome beach was won.
Here he learned to swim and catch his food, the juicy cuttle-fish thatfloated on the sea. He grew and gathered strength, but his flightsfrom land were short--his power was not yet at its full.
Another year passed by. Again with autumn days the parents left thenest to go to sea. From the waves a noble bird rose up to accompanythem. His snowy plumage glistened in the sun, his wide-spread wingscut through the air with a majestic grace. It was the baby albatross,grown at last to his full strength. Sailing, gliding, rising highabove the shining waves, dipping low on downward curve, he followed tothe far-off shoreless tracts, there to live his life of tirelessflight, the splendid marvel of the sea.
VIII.--FANNY FLATFACE
Where the waters of an estuary entered the sea were many wide and sunnyshallows. Here the flounders fed, and here in early summer theirlittle eggs, laid in the quiet water, rose up and floated at the top.Rocked on the gentle waves, warmed daily by the golden sun, the eggshatched into flounder babies. Hundreds and thousands of them therewere, crystal clear except for two black eyes, and so very small thatthey could only just be seen. The tide came in and swept them to andfro, and somehow Fanny lost the shoal and was carried out to sea.There the big waves jostled her about, the great sea creaturesfrightened her. She was lonely and sad
and terrified. "Whatever willbecome of me?" she thought.
On the third day she fell in with a shoal of tiny whitebait, all abouther own age and size. "I am lost; please let me swim with you," shebegged.
"You poor little thing! Of course you may," they said. So for severaldays she swam with them towards the shore, playing and feeding in happyforgetfulness of all past misery. At this time she was so like thewhitebait that no stranger could tell the difference. She had the samelong slender body, the same round head and pointed tail. A week passedby. One day she said: "I must go down to the sand. Good-bye."
Before they had time to speak she had dropped from their midst. "Howvery extraordinary!" said the whitebait to each other. For a day ortwo they played about as usual, but by-and-by one said: "The thought ofFanny worries me. Suppose we go down to see what has happened to her?"
"A good idea," said the others.
They found her lying aslant near the bottom of the sea.
"Are you sick? Why don't you come up?" they asked. "You look veryqueer, lying on your side like that."
"I feel very queer," she said. "Can you see what is the matter with myleft eye?"
The whitebait crowded round to look.
"Why, it has moved!" cried one. "It seems to be coming round thecorner of your head."
"I thought it felt strange," said Fanny.
"What a comical shape you are!" said another little fish. "You seem tobe growing flat."
