Some of those from whom I took eggs sat upon stones of a
similar size and shape with every appearance of content: one sat upon the
half of the red tin of a Dutch cheese. They are not very intelligent.
All the world loves a penguin: I think it is because in many respects
they are like ourselves, and in some respects what we should like to be.
Had we but half their physical courage none could stand against us. Had
we a hundredth part of their maternal instinct we should have to kill our
children by the thousand. Their little bodies are so full of curiosity
that they have no room for fear. They like mountaineering, and joy-riding
on ice-floes: they even like to drill.
One day there had been a blizzard, and lying open to the view of all was
a deserted nest, a pile of coveted stones. All the surrounding rookery
made their way to and fro, each husband acquiring merit, for, after each
journey, he gave his wife a stone. This was the plebeian way of doing
things; but my friend who stood, ever so unconcerned, upon a rock knew a
trick worth two of that: he and his wife who sat so cosily upon the other
side.
The victim was a third penguin. He was without a mate, but this was an
opportunity to get one. With all the speed his little legs could compass
he ran to and fro, taking stones from the deserted nest, laying them
beneath a rock, and hurrying back for more.
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