Gifted with great powers of flight, though less than other petrels, from morn till night, and often even a part of the latter when the moon is full, it is seen in the wake or alongside of the ship, describing in its flight, in which scarcely any movement is apparent, a thousand evolutions, sometimes touching the great waves which seem ready to overwhelm it, the moment after reappearing far above them, always wheeling about and careless of the storm. The sight of this flight and of all these evolutions is most pleasing, and one involuntarily thinks of a graceful skater flying over the ice at his utmost speed, and seeking to attract admiration. The whole life of this bird is perpetual movement, a constant chase after a scarce and insignificant prey. Unlike the swallow, who has his hours of pleasure and of amorous warbling, and nights of sleep in his warm nest, the Cape pigeon, pressed by hunger and by his ravenous appetite, only rests for a few minutes at a time at rare intervals during the day, in order to recruit his strength, and at night, rocked by the stormy wave, must find but little sleep. Neither does the Cape pigeon know the delight of a peaceful retreat in a favourite spot sheltered by thick foliage or long reeds; and while most birds confine themselves to a limited district, where they are almost certain to be found at the same season, and to which they invariably return at the disappearance of the frosts which have chased them away for a time, this one, a sailor by nature, has for its domain an immense empire, namely the greatest part of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans, and has to brave night and day, at one time an icy wind, and at another the rays of a burning sun. But in a state of liberty nothing living is often unhappy, and the foreseeing Providence, who knows how to satisfy the wants of his creatures, also knows how to create joys for them, where we see nothing but trouble and misery. In like manner the industrious workman and the hardy traveller experience, perhaps, of all men the most lively joys; to them repose would be the greatest suffering.