ull sail,
before the wind, for seven days and longer, circling round and round,
and apparently taking no rest, its sharp eye always watchful for any
refuse of food cast overboard by the sailors.

The albatross is very voracious, and easily caught, as it is neither
cunning nor shy. As it lives in desolation, and has little to do with
men, it knows nothing of trickery, nor dreams of the plots laid against
its royal freedom. An interesting account is given of the capture of an
albatross by an officer of a French ship. It was a sunny, windy day, and
the vessel was speeding along near the dreary Tierra del Fuego, when a
great shadow like a cloud passed over the deck. On looking up, the
officer saw an immense albatross, its white breast glistening like snow,
floating aloft with wide-spread wings. Wishing to examine the bird more
closely, he gave orders for its capture. Fastening a piece of fat pork
to a strong hook attached to a line, a sailor threw it overboard, and
allowed full forty yards of cord to run out. The albatross soon descried
the tempting morsel, and sweeping down in graceful circles to seize it,
was soon securely hooked. The only show of resistance it made to being
drawn on board was to extend its wings, and utter loud discordant cries.
Once on deck, its grace and majesty vanished. It showed no fear, and the
hook, still fastened in its beak, did not seem to annoy it; but no
landsman could have been more awkward than was the albatross on the
smooth rocking deck. It staggered and waddled clumsily, and tried in
vain to lift itself with its wings. It showed considerable temper, and
snapped furiously at all who approached, and the captain's dog, which
came trotting up, full of curiosity over the strange visitor, received a
terrible blow from the hooked beak, which sent him howling with pain to
the most distant corner of the deck. As the officer was desirous to
preserve the beak, breast, wings, and feet of this magnificent creature
as souvenirs, he ordered the sailors to kill it, although he states that
it impressed him as though he were commanding the execution of some
royal personage.

The albatross is an expert swimmer, and floats on the waves like a piece
of cork, riding in undisturbed serenity over the lofty foaming crests of
stormy billows. It is not, however, a good diver, and is obliged to
subsist on whatever food comes to the surface. It might be called the
vulture of the seas, for dead fish, floating carcas