On Nowaja Semlja's ice-bound coast, on the peaks of isolated cliffs, and suffering no other bird in his vicinity, dwells the fierce imperious Burgomaster (_Larus glaucus_). None of its class dares dispute the authority of the lordly bird, when with unhesitating superiority it descends on its prey, though in the possession of another. Although not numerous, yet it is the general attendant on the whale-fisher whenever spoils are to be obtained. Then it hovers over the scene of action, and having marked out its morsel, descends upon it and carries it off on the wing. On its descent, the most dainty pieces must be relinquished, though in the grasp of fulmar, snow-bird, or kittiwake.

The larger parasitical or raptorial gulls (_Lestris parasiticus, catarrhactes_), are incapable of diving or plunging, their feathers being too large in proportion to their bulk. They are therefore obliged to live by the exertions of the lesser species, making them disgorge what they have eaten, and dexterously catching the rejected fish before it reaches the water. Thus we see the old feudal relations of baron and serf established as a natural institution among the gull-tribe.

The Sea and its Living Wonders — Part 125

Although the sea-swallows and sea-mews are endowed with great power of wing, yet the petrels and albatrosses alone deserve the name of oceanic birds, as they are almost always found on the high seas, at every distance from land, and only during breeding-time seek the solitary coasts and islands. Petrels are scattered over the whole extent of the ocean, but the petrels which inhabit the northern seas are different from those of the antarctic ocean, and between both are other species, that never forsake the intertropical waters.

The Sea and its Living Wonders — Part 125

The Fulmar (_Procellaria glacialis_) is at home in the high north. As soon as the whale-fisher has passed the Shetland Islands, on his way to the Arctic Seas, this bird is sure to accompany his track, eagerly watching for anything thrown overboard. Walking awkwardly on land, the fulmar flies to windward in the most terrific storms. Many thousands frequently accumulate round a dead whale, rushing in from all quarters. The sea immediately about the ship's stern, when the men are engaged in skinning their gigantic prey, is sometimes so completely covered with them that a stone can scarcely be thrown overboard without striking one of them. When anything is thus cast among the crowd, those nearest take alarm, and so on, till a thousand are put in motion; but as in rising they strike the water with their feet, a loud and most irregular splashing is produced. It is amusing to observe with what jealousy they view, and with what boldness they attack, any of their species engaged in devouring the finest morsels, and to hear the curious chuckling noise they make in their anxiety for despatch, lest they should be disturbed. The voracious birds are frequently so glutted as to be unable to fly, in which case they rest upon the water until the advancement of digestion restores their wonted powers. They then return to the banquet with the same gusto as before, and although numbers of the species may have been killed with boat-hooks, and float among them, the others, nothing daunted, and unconscious of danger to themselves, continue their gormandising labours. When carrion is scarce, the fulmars follow the living whale, as if they had a presentiment of his future fate, and sometimes, by their peculiar motions while hovering on the surface of the water, point out to the fisherman the position of the animal. As their beak cannot make an impression on the dead whale until some more powerful creature tears away the skin, it may be imagined how delighted they are when man takes upon himself the trouble of peeling a whale for them.

The Sea and its Living Wonders — Part 125