Of all the interesting objects which present themselves to the eye
of the voyager in the southern hemisphere, the albatross is among
the most noteworthy. Apart from its relieving the monotony of the
watery expanse, this bird, by its extraordinary characteristics,
seldom fails of exciting a lively degree of astonishment in the
spectator--for what can be thought of a bird which apparently
requires neither rest nor sleep? It is perhaps owing to this
peculiarity that sailors and others have regarded the albatross
with mingled feelings of awe and wonder: its presence was an
omen, but rather of good than evil. The weary crew of Bartholomew
Diaz doubtless looked on the swift air-cleaving creature as an
appropriate scout from the Cape of Storms, while Vasco de Gama may
have hailed it as the herald of his hope and success. Coleridge
has very happily availed himself of these different aspects in his
'Ancient Mariner,' where he makes the aged seaman, with 'long gray
beard and glittering eye,' relate how, from out the dismal mists--
'At length did cross an albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.
It ate the food it ne'er had ate,
And round and round it flew;
* * * * *
And a good south wind sprung up behind,
The albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!'