156 Natural Histo7'y of the Fai'allones. ]zoe 



species, indicating the presence of a large rookery. The wind, 

 which had been uncomfortably brisk inside the bay, left us almost 

 entirely after we were well out to sea, and we were soon rolling 

 aimlessly about on the broad ocean swells, with only an occasional 

 puff of wind to make the sails flap. Thus we spent the rest of the 

 day. The night was varied by a dense fog closing in around us, 

 and the cheerful tones of an old tin fog-horn, with responses from 

 two or three neighboring vessels, lent a little life to the scene for a 

 time. Not appreciating the bits of greasy fried liver upon which 

 our captain and crew of two made their morning, noon and evening- 

 meal, bread and claret completing the bill of fare, we went supper- 

 less to bed. On looking out early the next morning the dark, 

 lead-colored water and foggy air looked cheerless enough, but we 

 were consoled by the information that we were sailing under a good 

 breeze directly towards our destination. Soon the North Farallones 

 loomed up through the fog — little bare rocks, with the waves dash- 

 ing against their sides. Presently midway rock was passed, and at 

 last we were in sight of South Farallon. Alniogt before we know 

 it the sail has been lowered, and we row past Sugar Loaf Rock into 

 Fisherman's Bay, where the anchor is lowered and the fog-horn 

 blown to summon the eggers on shore to send a skiff for us to land. 

 As we lay at anchor in the little cove the sight was, indeed, a novel 

 one. The rocks were of a light pinkish or cream color from the 

 guano upon them, intei'spersed with patches of pale-green where 

 some moss or lichen had taken root, apparently. Lower down, 

 where the waves dash upon them, they were clean and almost black 

 in color, while in beautiful contrast to their sombre hue the breakers 

 were dashed into white foam and pale-green opaline tints. But the 

 thing which interested us the most was the vast assemblage of birds. 

 Every cranny upon the face of the rough granitic cliffs was alive 

 with guillemots, uttering their characteristic note, some at rest, some 

 fluttering and scrambling or bobbing their heads; the whole scene 

 being one of indescribably weird animation, and unlike anything 

 else imaginable, unless it be the witches in Faust on Walpurgis 

 night. Here and there the black figure of a cormorant upon her 

 nest was noticed, or one would fly by with a fish in her bill, headed 

 toward her nest. An occasional puffin ( Lunda cirrhata), or sea 

 parrot, as it is aptly called, would fly past the boat, with its immense 

 odd bill of red and the big patch of white on the head in striking 



