and beach pools they stand gently swaying from side to side; as their webbed feet mark time in the sand they sink until their snowy breasts are awash. Disturbed worms and molluscs struggle to the surface, seeking safety as the worms strive to avoid a spade; but there is no safety for them, for a yellow orange-splashed bill awaits their appearance.
In Tor Bay is the well-named Shag Rock. Here, and along the coast wherever stack or rock gives foothold, the abundant shags stood drying outspread wings. Surely that ancient herald who first conceived the spread-eagle had cormorant or shag in his mind's eye. One day a dozen stood together on the Shag Rock, and not a cormorant was visible in the Bay; yet it has been affirmed that the larger bird is commoner in Devon than the smaller, greener species with the perky upturned crest. Conspicuous as is the shag when standing in heraldic pose, it is a cautious fowl; from its rocky look-out it can sight danger, and if a gunner approaches the broad wings in deliberate but powerful strokes soon bear it out of range. It is when feeding that it shows special wisdom. The cormorants are expert divers, usually going under after a graceful upward spring, so as to dive deep to where they can chase scared fish amongst the tangle-clad rocks; but whilst beneath the surface an enemy may have approached, for the submarine hunt is often lengthy. Instead of bobbing up to the surface like a diving duck, the careful shag first exposes head and neck alone. keeping its body submerged; with bill uplifted at an angle it peers round with emerald eye before allowing its back to show. How it maintains its body in that position, adjusting its specific gravity, has never been explained. Seldom has the physicist sufficient interest in ornithology, or the biologist in physics, to induce him to investigate the problem.
