BIRD-LIFE AS OBSERVED AT SKERRYVORE LIGHTHOUSE 21 



considerable interest, standing as it does right in the track 

 of the migration stream passing between the Inner and the 

 Outer Isles. Since being appointed there in August 1903, 

 I have kept notes of all feathered visitors that have come 

 under my notice, and at the request of the Editors I have 

 prepared this contribution regarding them. 



We have no birds that may be classified as residents, 

 for the simple fact that there is no place to reside on. A 

 few are seen about more or less the whole year round, but 

 the great bulk of our visitors are birds of passage calling on 

 their way North and South. During migration the number 

 of visitors depends a good deal on weather conditions. It is 

 pretty well known now by all students of bird-migration that 

 the beams of light issuing from the lantern of a lighthouse 

 attract the passing flocks, and this especially is the case 

 when the atmosphere is hazy, and when there is a night of 

 "sma"' rain or Scotch mist. This condition of weather un- 

 doubtedly makes the beams more conspicuous and attractive. 

 The night must also be quite dark. Moonlight is a most 

 unfortunate time for the observer who is anxious to witness 

 a rush, for I never yet saw a bird on the windows when the 

 moon reigned on high. Also if the atmosphere is very 

 clear, no matter how dark it may be, the passing crowds 

 pass on without a pause. But in spring or autumn, if the 

 wind is easterly, and the horizon hazy, hazy enough to 

 obscure a light about eight or ten miles distant, and if a 

 large crowd of birds happens to be passing, the scene 

 witnessed from the balcony of the tower is really worthy of 

 being termed one of Nature's wonderful sights. Hundreds 

 of birds are flying about in all directions, crossing and re- 

 crossing one another's flight, but never coming into collision, 

 all seemingly of the opinion that the only way of escape out 

 of the confusion into which they have got is through the 

 windows of the lantern. In ordinary clear weather they 

 pass at a great height, so high as to be invisible to the 

 naked eye. This was very forcibly brought under my 

 notice this year in September and November. On 27th 

 Sept., a clear quiet day, I distinctly heard the cry of Red- 

 wings high overhead, but could see no birds. I happened 

 to have the telescope in my hand, and at once levelled it 



