They are also armed with a pair of minute flippers much of the same conformation as those of a seal and their eyes are large, round and soft, surrounded by a black circle.

They walk, or rather waddle much after the manner of an over fat man.

When resting, their bodies never touch the ground; but bend over to within an inch of it, giving them the appearance of doing a very difficult balancing act, though as a general thing they sit upright.
Paul's prizes were very sullen and refused to take the fish offered them, so the door was shut and they were left alone with the condor.
That night the Captain and the Peruvian, who slept next door, were awakened by an awful uproar in the room where the pets were confined.
"Ah," exclaimed Paul, "do you hear that?
The condor is killing the children of the sea." They were too tired and sleepy to investigate, however, and in a little while the noises ceased.

At daybreak, after their usual plunge in the surf, they went to ascertain the condition of their pets.

To their amazement they found the condor gasping its last breath, while the ninas were comfortably pluming themselves in their corner.