Chapter 39

They Fall In With Strangers

After quitting the Parki, we had much calm weather, varied by light
breezes. And sailing smoothly over a sea, so recently one sheet of
foam, I could not avoid bethinking me, how fortunate it was, that the
gale had overtaken us in the brigantine, and not in the Chamois. For
deservedly high as the whale-shallop ranks as a sea boat; still, in a
severe storm, the larger your craft the greater your sense of
security. Wherefore, the thousand reckless souls tenanting a line-of-
battle ship scoff at the most awful hurricanes; though, in reality,
they may be less safe in their wooden-walled Troy, than those who
contend with the gale in a clipper.

But not only did I congratulate myself upon salvation from the past,
but upon the prospect for the future. For storms happening so seldom
in these seas, one just blown over is almost a sure guarantee of very
many weeks' calm weather to come.

Now sun followed sun; and no land. And at length it almost seemed as
if we must have sailed past the remotest presumable westerly limit of
the chain of islands we sought; a lurking suspicion which I
sedulously kept to myself However, I could not but nourish a latent
faith that all would yet be well.

On the ninth day my forebodings were over. In the gray of the dawn,
perched upon the peak of our sail, a noddy was seen fast asleep. This
freak was true to the nature of that curious fowl, whose name is
significant of its drowsiness. Its plumage was snow-white, its
bill and legs blood-red; the latter looking like little pantalettes.
In a sly attempt at catching the bird, Samoa captured three tail-
feathers; the alarmed creature flying away with a scream, and leaving
its quills in his hand.

Sailing on, we gradually broke in upon immense low-sailing flights of
other aquatic fowls, mostly of those species which are seldom found
far from land: terns, frigate-birds, mollymeaux, reef-pigeons,
boobies, gulls, and the like. They darkened the air; their wings
making overhead an incessant rustling like the simultaneous turning
over of ten thousand leaves. The smaller sort skimmed the sea like
pebbles sent skipping from the shore. Over these, flew myriads of
birds of broader wing. While high above all, soared in air the daring
"Diver," or sea-kite, the power of whose vision is truly wonderful.
It perceives the little flying-fish in the water, at a height which
can not be less than four hundred feet. Spirally wheeling and
screaming as it goes, the sea-kite, bill foremost, darts downward,
swoops into the water, and for a moment altogether disappearing,
emerges at last; its prey firmly trussed in its claws. But bearing it
aloft, the bold bandit is quickly assailed by other birds of