158 Natural History of the Far allones. [zoe 



run and attempt to squeeze into any little cranny in the rocks they 

 happened to espy, but were very readily caught by hand. The 

 nest is a simple affair composed of dry weeds, mostly Bceria maritima, 

 and placed almost anywhere upon a rocky hillside. No nests were 

 observed on the steep cliffs overhanging the sea, the favorite situa- 

 tion being a hillside of moderate slope. The eggs are remarkably 

 well protected in color, and the nest itself is so trifling an affair 

 that it may frequently be almost stepped upon without being dis- 

 covered, unless the attention is especially directed towards finding 

 it. The birds are extremely noisy and vociferous as long as an m- 

 truder remains in their territory, hovering over him in large num- 

 bers and swooping upon him with menacing cries and gestures. 

 Altogether, one feels more comfortable when he gets off their pre- 

 serves. But the birds are remarkably inconsistent, for they are 

 inveterate plunderers themselves. As the eggers go about the 

 rocks, starting all the birds from their nests, the gulls follow closely 

 in their train, breaking every cormorant's e§,g which comes in their 

 way and devouring the contents. They even manage to crack the 

 tough shell of the guillemot's e.gg if any should be passed by 

 the eggers. 



Continuing our scramble up the rocks, we presently reached the 

 summit of the west end, where a wonderfully grand spectacle was 

 unfolded to view. We found ourselves on the very edge of a prec- 

 ipice with a sheer drop of several hundred feet, perhaps, Ito the sea, 

 which was breaking on the rocks below. All about the rocky 

 ledges were rows of guillemots, frequently huddled together in 

 enormous numbers. I sat down and made rough sketches of the 

 birds, illustrating some of the attitudes they assumed. While ob- 

 serving them, one which sat upon the topmost ridge stretched its 

 neck out and, leaning over, looked down at the sea as if contem- 

 plating a plunge. Others were busy dressing their plumage, while 

 now and then one would rise up and flap its wings and then settle 

 down again. A group of the birds drawn from life is represented 

 in Plate xviii. So large a concourse of these birds is a strange sight 

 indeed, and one furnishing much food for reflection. Here we see 

 the social instinct in one of its most primitive forms. A community 

 of ants or bees is far in advance of an assemblage of sea birds. 

 Here they live, each pair with a piece of property and home of their 

 own, a little nook of rock with a single &gg upon it; and the own- 



