cry.

"Tah! tah! That's a jackdaw," said Aleck, half aloud. "Plain enough;
but that mournful wail! It must be a different kind of gull.
Black-backed perhaps, with a bad cold through getting wet. I wonder
whether a gull could be taught to talk! I don't see why not. Let's
see, parrots can be taught, of course, and cockatoos learn to say a few
words. So do jackdaws and starlings, but very few. Oh, yes! then
there's the raven. Uncle said he knew of one at an old country inn that
used to say `Coming, sir,' whenever anyone called for the ostler. Then
there are those Indian birds they call Mynahs. Uncle says that some of
them talk beautifully. Hallo! There he goes again! It's just like
`Ahoy-oy-oy-oy!' Plain enough to deceive anyone if it came off the sea.
I'll wait till I catch sight of the gull that makes that noise, and
next nesting-time I'll watch for some of the same kind and get two or
three of the young ones to bring up. If they can say what sounds
something like `Ahoy!' so plainly it ought to be possible to teach one
to say more."

Aleck sat and mused again, running over in his mind such gulls as he
knew, and coming to the conclusion that unless it was some unusual
specimen, of great vocal powers, it could not be the black-backed nor
the lesser black-backed, nor the black-headed herring gull or kittiwake.

"I don't know what it is," he said, "but, whatever it may be, it's a
good one to talk," and as he listened he heard the peculiar, weird,
wailing cry again, sounding something like "Ahoy!"

"Gone now," said Aleck, half aloud, as he keenly watched in the
direction of the cry, which had now ceased. "It might as well have
flown over this way instead of down over the cliff. Hooray! There it
goes!"

He shaded his eyes to follow the steady regular course of a large bronze
black bird flying close down the trough-like depression, as close to the
bottom as it could keep clear of the rocks, till it reached the end,
where it dipped down towards the sea and disappeared.

"Well, I'm a clever one," cried the lad, with a scornful laugh; "lived
ever since I can remember close to the sea, and been told the name of
every bird that comes here in the winter and in the summer to nest, and
didn't know the cry of an old shag. Well, say that cry, for it was very
different from the regular croak I know. He had been fishing, having a
regular gorge, and ended by swallowing a weevil. The little wretch set
up its spi