which, aided by the beating
of its broad webbed feet, upon stout legs set far back on the body,
enables it to skim over the surface of the water at the rate of fifteen
miles an hour! In its progress, says Darwin, "it makes such a noise and
splashing that the effect is exceedingly curious." The great naturalist
further states that he is "nearly sure the steamer-duck moves its wings
alternately, instead of both together, as other birds move theirs." It
is needless to say that it is from this propulsion by its wings, like
the paddles of a steam-vessel, that the bird has derived the name by
which it is now best known. But it has even yet another, or had in
those days when steam was unknown, the old navigators of Narborough's
time calling it the Racehorse, by reason of its swiftness. A flock
habitually frequents the kelp-bed, so that the boat-builders have them
almost continuously before their eyes, and derive amusement from
watching their odd ways and movements; listening also to the strange
sounds that proceed from them. At ebb-tide, when the rocks are above
water, the steamers assemble on them, and, having finished their repast
of shell-fish, sit pluming themselves, all the while giving utterance to
a chorus of noises that more resembles the croaking of bull-frogs than
the calling of birds. They are shy notwithstanding, both difficult to
approach and hard to kill, the last on account of their strong bony
skulls and dense coat of feathers. But no one much cares to kill them;
their flesh tasting so rank and fishy, that the man must be hungry who
could eat, much less relish it. Withal, sailors who have been for
months on a diet of "salt junk," not only eat, but pronounce it highly
palatable.

Seals are observed every day; on one occasion a seal-mother giving a
curious display of maternal solicitude in teaching her calf to swim.
First taking hold of it by the flipper, and for a while supporting it
above water, with a shove she sends the youngster adrift, leaving it to
shift for itself. In a short time the little creature becomes
exhausted; she takes a fresh grip on its flipper, and again supports it
till it has recovered breath, after which there is another push off,
followed by a new attempt to swim, the same process being several times
repeated to the end of the lesson.

A still rarer and more remarkable spectacle is furnished by a couple of
whales. One calm clear morning, with the water of the strait waveless