CAHOWS AND LONGTAILS 



The young birds were a pure culture of mouse 

 gray fluff, with no visible feet, only a negligible 

 glint of an eye and a wholly inadequate beak. They 

 were paler below, but the dark gray of the upper 

 parts was exactly the color of the weathered rocks. 

 The parents were most simply and severely black 

 above and pure white on the side of the head and 

 all the under-parts. The eggs were the only con- 

 spicuous thing in the entire life of these birds — 

 whitest of white. 



Three weeks later when I swam through the rush 

 of waters and crept up the sharp rocks of Idol 

 Island, I found the youngsters rather disheveled, 

 still downy superficially but with the real feathers 

 well started beneath, and the wings sprouting 

 rapidly. They were almost bald, the pin feathers of 

 the scalp having started growth. They were fluffed 

 out and looked obese and at least twice the size of the 

 parents. 



I have already mentioned the abundant remains 

 of half -fossilized bones of these small petrels on 

 all surrounding islands from Castle to St. David's, 

 attesting their former abundance — bones of two 

 species, of one of which only a single mounted 

 specimen remains. Today I have heard Bermudian 

 fishermen speak of these voices of the night as Ca- 

 hows and the early settlers of these islands knew 

 both species by this name. 



Going back more than three centuries, one Wil- 

 liam Strachy on the fifteenth of July, 1610, wrote 

 as follows concerning these little seabirds: "A 



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