ndifferently call it "sea-hawk,"
"man-of-war hawk," and "man-of-war eagle." The last appellation,
however, is sometimes given to the great wandering albatross (_Diomedea
exulans_).

The male frigate-bird is jet black all over the body; having a red bill,
very long, vertically flattened, and with the mandibles abruptly hooked
downwards at the point. The female differs in colour: being sooty black
above, and having a large white disc on the abdomen.

The legs are short in proportion to the bulk of the bird; the toes, as
already stated, being furnished with talons,--the middle one scaly, and
notched underneath; while the legs are feathered to the feet, showing
another point of affinity with predatory birds of the land. Still
another may be pointed out: in the innermost toe or _pollex_, being
turned outwards, as if intended for perching,--which the frigate-bird
actually does when it visits the shore, often making its nest upon
trees, and roosting among the branches.

In fact, this creature may be regarded as a sort of connecting link
between the birds of prey who make their home on the dry land, and the
web-footed birds that equally lead a predatory life upon the sea.
Perhaps it continues the chain begun by the ospreys and sea-eagles, who
take most of their food out of the water, but do not stray far from the
shore in search of it.

The frigate-bird, a true sea-hawk,--sea-eagle, it may be called, since
its bold, noble qualities entitle it to the name,--makes its excursions
so far from the shore that it is not unfrequently seen in the very
middle of the Atlantic. Now, this is the most curious circumstance in
its history, and one that has hitherto perplexed ornithologists. Since
its feet are not provided with the "web," it cannot swim a stroke; nor
has it ever been seen to alight on the water for the purpose of taking
rest. It is not likely that it can settle on the wave,--the
conformation of its feet and body making this an impossibility.

How, then, does it find rest for its tired wings? This is the question
to which an answer is not easily given.

There is a belief, as Ben alleged, that it returns every night to roost
upon the land; but when it is considered that to reach its roost would
often require a flight of a thousand miles,--to say nothing of the
return journey to its fishing-ground,--the statement at once loses all
_vrai-semblance_, Many sailors say that it goes to sleep suspended aloft
in the air, an