larie was all alone in a little world. he had lived there many days, and had spent the time, minute by minute and hour by hour, doing nothing at all but growing. that one thing he had done well. there is no doubt about that; for he had grown from a one-celled little beginning of life into a creature so big that he filled the whole of his world crammed full. it was smooth, and it was hard, and its sides were curved around and about him so tightly that he could not even stretch his legs. there was no door. larie was a prisoner. the prison-walls of his world held him so fast that he could not budge. that is, he could not budge anything but his head. he could move that a little.
now, that is what we might call being in a fairly tight place. but you don't know larie if you think he could not get out of it. there are few places so tight that we can't get out of them if we go about it the right way, and make the best of what power we have. that is just what larie did. he had power to move his head enough to tap, with his beak, against the wall of his world that had become his prison. so he kept tapping with his beak. on the end of it was a queer little knob. with this he knocked against the hard smooth wall.[pg 19]
"tap! tip tip!" went larie's knob. then he would rest, for it is not easy work hammering and pounding, all squeezed in so tight. but he kept at it again and again and again. and then at last he cracked his prison-wall; and lo, it was not a very thick wall after all! no thicker than an eggshell!
that is the way with many difficulties. they seem so very hard at first, and so very hopeless, and then end by being only a way to something very, very pleasant.
so here was larie in his second world. its thin, soft floor and its thick, soft sides were made of fine bright-green grass, which had turned yellowish in drying. it had no roof. the sun shone in at the top. the wind blew over. there had been no sun or wind in his eggshell world. it was comfortable to have them now. they dried his down and made it fluffy. there was plenty of room for its fluffiness. he could stretch his legs, too, and could wiggle his wings against his sides. this felt good. and he could move his head all he cared to. but he did not begin thumping the sides of his new world with it. he tucked it down between two warm little things close by, and went to sleep. the two warm little things were his sister and brother, for larie was not alone in his nest-world.
the sun went down and the wind blew cold and the rain beat hard from the east; but larie knew nothing of[pg 20] all this. a roof had settled down over his world while he napped. it was white as sea foam, and soft and dry and, oh, so very cosy, as it spread over him. the roof to larie's second world was his mother's breast.
the storm and the night passed, and the sun and the fresh spring breeze again came in at the top of the nest. then something very big stood near and made a shadow, and larie heard a strange sound. the something very big was his mother, and the strange sound was her first call to breakfast. when larie heard that, he opened his mouth. but nothing went into it. his brother and sister were being fed. he had never had any food in his mouth in all the days of his life. to be sure, his egg-world was filled with nourishment that he had taken into his body and had used in growing; but he had never done anything with his beak except to knock with the knob at the end of it against the shell when he pipped his way out. what a handy little knob that had been—just right for tapping. but, now that there was no hard wall about him to break, what should he use it for? well, nothing at all; for the joke of it is, there was no knob there. it had dropped off, and he could never have another.
never mind: he could open his beak just as well without it; and by-and-by his mother came again with a second call for breakfast, and that time larie got his share. after that, there were calls for luncheon and for[pg 21] dinner, and luncheon again between that and supper; and part of the calls were from mother and part from father gull.
larie's second world, it seems, was a place where he and his brother and sister were hungry and were fed. this is a world in which dwell, for a time, all babies, whether they have two legs, like you and larie, or four, like a pig with a curly tail, or six, like nata who lived in shanty creek.[1] an important world it is, too; for health and strength and growing up, all depend upon it.
there was, however, only a rim of soft fine dry grass to show where larie's nest-world left off and his third world began. so it is not surprising that, as soon as their legs were strong enough, larie and his brother and sister stepped abroad; for what baby does not creep out of his crib as soon as ever he can?
they could not, for all this show of bravery, feed themselves like the sons of peter pan, or swim the waters like gavia's two olairs at immer lake. however grown up the three youngsters may have felt when they began to walk, father and mother gull made no mistake about the matter, but fed them breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, and stuffed them so full of luncheons between meals, that the greedy little things just had to grow, so as to be able to swallow all that was brought them.[pg 22]
there were times, certainly, when larie still felt very much a baby, even though he ran about nimbly enough. for instance, when he made a mistake and asked some gull, that was not his father or mother, for food, and got a rough beating instead of what he begged for!
oh, then he felt like a forlorn little baby, indeed; for it was not pleasant to be whipped, and that sometimes cruelly, when he didn't know any better; for all the big gulls looked alike, with their foam-white bodies and their pearl-gray capes, and they were all bringing food; so how could he know who were and who were not his father and mother gull? well, he must learn to be careful, that was all, and stay where his very own could find and feed him; for gulls can waste no time on the young of other gulls—their own keep them busy enough, the little greedies!
again, larie must have felt very wee and helpless whenever a big man walked that way, shaking the ground with his heavy step and making a dark shadow as he came. then, oh, then, larie was a baby, and hid near a tuft of grass or between two stones, tucking his head out of sight, and keeping quite still as an ostrich does, or,—yes,—as perhaps a shy young human does, who hides his head in the folds of his mother's skirt when a stranger asks him to shake hands.
but few men trod upon larie's island-world, and no[pg 23] man came to do him harm; for the regulations under the migratory-bird treaty act prohibit throughout the united states the killing of gulls at any time. that means that the laws of our country protect the gull, as of course you will understand, though larie knew nothing about the matter.
yes, think of it! there was a law, made at washington in the district of columbia, which helped take care of little downy larie way off in the north on a rocky island.
i said "helped take care of"; for no law, however good it may be, can more than help make matters right. there has to be, besides, some sort of policeman to stand by the law and see that it is obeyed.
so larie, although he never knew that, either, had a policeman; and the law and the policeman together kept him quite safe from the dangers which not many years ago most threatened the gulls on our coast islands. in those days, before there were gull-laws and gull-policemen, people came to the nests and took their eggs, which are larger than hens' eggs and good to eat; and people came, too, and killed these birds for their feathers. then it was that the beautiful stiff wing-feathers, which should have been spread in flight, were worn upon the hats of women; and the soft white breast-feathers, which should have been brooding brownish eggs all[pg 24] spattered over with pretty marks, were stuffed into feather-beds for people to sleep on.
well it was for larie that he lived when he did; for his third world was a wonderful place and it was right that he should enjoy it in safety. when larie first left his nest and went out to walk, he stepped upon a shelf of reddish rock, and the whole wall from which his shelf stuck out was reddish rock, too. beyond, the rocks were greenish, and beyond that they were gray. oh! the reddish and greenish and grayish rocks were beautiful to see when the fog lifted and the sun shone on them.
but larie's island-world was not all rock of different colors: for over there, not too far away to see, was a dark-green spruce tree. because rough winds had swept over this while it was growing, its branches were scraggly and twisted. they could not grow straight and even, like a tree in a quiet forest. but never think, for all of that, that larie's spruce was not good to look upon. there is something splendid about a tree which, though bending to the will of the mighty winds that work their force upon it, grows sturdy and strong in spite of all. such trees are somehow like boys and girls, who meet hardships with such courage when they are young, that they grow strong and sturdy of spirit, and warm of heart, with the sort of mind that can understand trouble in the world, and so think of ways to help it.[pg 25]
birds, too, that had lived in rough winds. birds, too, that had lived in rough winds.
[pg 26]
yes, perhaps larie's tree was an emblem of courage. however that may be, it was a favorite spot on the island. often it could be seen, that dark, rugged tree, which had battled with winds from its seedling days and grown victoriously, with three white gulls resting on its squarish top—birds, too, that had lived in rough winds and had grown strong in their midst.
there was more on the island than rocks and trees. over much of it lay a carpet of grass. soft and fine and vivid green it was, of the kind that had been gathered for larie's nest and had turned yellowish in drying. under the carpet, in underground lanes as long as a man's long arm, lived larie's young neighbor-folk—little petrels, sometimes called "mother carey's chickens."
there was even more on the island yet: for high on the rocks stood a lighthouse; and the man who kept the signal lights in order was no other than larie's policeman himself. a useful life he lived, saving ships of the sea by the power of light, and birds of the sea by the power of law.
so that was larie's third world—an island with a soft rug of bright-green grass, and big shelfy rocks of red and green and gray, and rugged dark-green trees, with white gulls resting on the branches, and a lighthouse with its signal.
all around and about that island lay larie's fourth[pg 27] world—the sea. when his great day for swimming came, he slipped off into the water; and after that it was his, whenever he wished—his to swim or float upon, the wide-away ocean reaching as far as any gull need care to swim or float.
all over and above the sea stretched larie's fifth world—the air. when his great day for flying came, he rose against the breeze, and his wings took him into that high-away kingdom that lifted as far as any gull need care to fly.
now that larie could both swim and fly, he was large, and acted in many ways like an old gull; but the feathers of his body were not white, and he did not wear over his back and the top of his spread wings a pearl-gray mantle.
nor was he given the garb of his father and mother for a traveling suit, that winter when he went south with the others, to a place where the gulf stream warmed the water whereon he swam and the air wherein he flew.
but there came a time when larie had put off the clothes of his youth and donned the robe of a grown gull. and as he sailed in the breezes of his fifth world, which blew over the cold sea, and across the island with a carpet of green and rocks of red and green and gray,—for he was again in the north,—he was beautiful to behold, the flight of a gull being so wonderful that the heart of him who sees quickens with joy.[pg 28]
larie was not alone. there were so many with him that, when they flew together in the distance, they looked as thick as snowflakes in the air; and when they screamed together, the din was so great that people who were not used to hearing them put their hands over their ears.
and more than that, larie was not alone; for there sailed near him in the air and floated beside him in the sea another gull, at whom he did not scream, but to whom he talked pleasantly, saying, "me-you," in a musical tone that she understood.
floated beside him in the sea another gull, to whom he
talked pleasantly. floated beside him in the sea another gull, to whom he talked pleasantly.
[pg 29]
larie and his mate found much to do that spring. one game that never failed to interest them was meeting the ships many, many waves out at sea, and following them far on their way. for on the ships were men who threw away food they could not use, and the gulls gathered in flocks to scramble and fight for this. children on board the ships laughed merrily to see them, and tossed crackers and biscuits out for the fun of watching the hungry-birds come close, to feed.
many a feast, too, the fishermen gave the gulls, when they sorted the contents of their nets and threw aside what they did not want.
besides this, larie and his mate and their comrades picnicked in high glee at certain harbors where garbage was left; for gulls are thrifty folk and do not waste the food of the world.
from their feeding habits you will know that these beautiful birds are scavengers, eating things which, if left on the sea or shore, would make the water foul and the air impure. thus it is that nature gives to a scavenger the duty of service to all living creatures; and the freshness of the ocean and the cleanness of the sands of the shore are in part a gift of the gulls, for which we should thank and protect them.
relish as they might musty bread and mouldy meat, larie and his mate enjoyed, too, the sport of catching[pg 30] fresh food; and many a clam hunt they had in true gull style. they would fly above the water near the shore, and when they were twenty or thirty feet high, would plunge down head-first. then they would poke around for a clam, with their heads and necks under water and their wings out and partly unfolded, but not flopping; and a comical sight they were!
after larie found a clam, he would fly high into the air
a hundred feet or so, and then drop it. after larie found a clam, he would fly high into the air a hundred feet or so, and then drop it.
[pg 31]
it was not for food alone that larie and his mate lived
that spring. it was not for food alone that larie and his mate lived that spring.
[pg 32]
after larie found a clam, he would fly high into the air a hundred feet or so above the rocks, and then, stretching way up with his head, drop the clam from his beak. easily, with wings fluttering slightly, larie would follow the clam, floating gracefully, though quickly, down to where it had cracked upon the rocks. the morsel in its broken shell was now ready to eat, for larie and his mate did not bake their sea-food or make it into chowder. cold salad flavored with sea-salt was all they needed.
exciting as were these hunts with the flocks of screaming gulls, it was not for food alone that larie and his mate lived that spring. for under the blue of the airy sky there was an ocean, and in that ocean there was an island, and on that island there was a nest, and in that nest there was an egg—the first that the mate of larie had ever laid. and in that egg was a growing gull, their eldest son—a baby larie, alone inside his very first world.
