When his conqueror left him at length, he lay for some two minutes or so on the ground, his heaving breast alone showing that he was alive, so completely exhausted was he, but recovering himself at length he arose and crawled away, a damaged flipper hanging limply by his side, and he took no further part in the proceedings. The victorious bird rushed back up the side of the knoll, and immediately fought the remaining cock, who had not moved from his original position, putting him to flight, and chasing him in and out of the crowd, the fugitive doubling and twisting amongst it in a frantic endeavour to get away, and I quickly lost sight of them. Scenes of this kind became so common all over the rookery, that the roar of battle and thuds of blows could be heard continuously, and of the hundreds of such fights, all plainly had their cause in rivalry for the hens. When starting to fight, the cocks sometimes peck at each other with their beaks, but always they very soon start to use their flippers, standing up to one another and raining in the blows with such rapidity as to make a sound which, in the words of Dr. Wilson, resembles that of a boy running and dragging his hoop-stick along an iron paling. Soon they start "in-fighting," in which position one bird fights right-handed, the other left-handed; that is to say, one leans his left breast against his opponent, swinging in his blows with his right flippers, the other presenting his right breast and using his left flipper. My photographs of cocks fighting all show this plainly. It is interesting to note that these birds, though fighting with one flipper only, are ambidextrous. Whilst battering one another with might and main they use their weight at the same time, and as one outlasts the other, he drives his vanquished opponent before him over the ground, as a trained boxing man, when "in-fighting" drives his exhausted opponent round the ring. [Illustration: Fig. 22. Three Cocks in Rivalry (See page 38)] [Illustration: Fig. 23. Two of the Cocks squaring up for Battle (See page 38)] Desperate as these encounters are, I don't think one penguin ever kills another. In many cases blood is drawn. I saw one with an eye put out, and that side of its beak (the right side) clotted with blood, whilst the crimson print of a blood-stained flipper across a white breast was no uncommon sight. Hard as they can hit with their flippers, however, they are also well protected by their feathers, and being marvellously tough and enduring the end of a hard fight merely finds the vanquished bird prostrate with exhaustion and with most of the breath beaten out of his little body. The victor is invariably satisfied with this, and does not seek to dispatch him with his beak.