THE SOCIAL LIFE OF ARCTIC BIRDS. 215 



eye could reach, with birds whose cry resembled the noise of a gigantic 

 surf or of a raging storm. At last we reached the top of the mount- 

 ain, where two falcons that had been soaring over our heads swooped 

 down like arrows into the swimming mass ; each seized an auk in its 

 claws, and then rose slowly toward the clouds. But the sea extended 

 its wide, dark blue, bare surface before the eye, for the white swarm 

 of birds had disappeared, having dived down beneath the protecting 

 waves. After one or two minutes one arose, then a second, and a 

 third, and so on in quick succession, and, as they thus gradually ap- 

 peared on the surface, they looked like flecks of white foam. With 

 marvelous rapidity the little dots increased, till soon it was only here 

 and there that a strip of water could be seen. The screeching began 

 anew, and the birds arose again from the water and moved toward the 

 heights. We had sat down ; the rustling, like that of the surf, and 

 the monotonous cry of the birds, had lulled us gradually into a deep 

 sleep. When we awoke and opened our eyes we could have believed 

 that we were transported into a fairy land. In numbers like the sand 

 on the sea-shore, the auks were squatting at our feet and down to the 

 edge of the water, and curiously looking at us. We were the giants 

 of the fairy story ; they were the dwarfs, who dwelt in the secret 

 caves of the mountain. The millions were there, if one could judge 

 by the eye alone, but it is probable that, on an exact count, they would 

 be many thousands short. 



The auk lives a life of strict monogamy. It is to his beloved old wife, 

 the flame of his youth, that he gives his attentions on every returning 

 spring. The old auk is a constant, loving spouse, a pattern of a hus- 

 band, and it is really a pity that the numerical relation of the sexes is 

 such that not every young male can mate himself, and many are com- 

 pelled to wander through life in compulsory bachelorhood. Particu- 

 larly painful is the condition of the solitary one when the pairs go to 

 the mountain in the spring. What shall he do? Shall he alone or 

 with other morose companions wear out his life on the high sea? No, 

 that would be suicide. He follows the bridal trains to the mainland 

 and has at least a happy company around him, and may always hope 

 that one of the males may perish, and he then in some possible way 

 find favor in the eyes of the widow. The auks return every year to 

 their old nests, which they readily distinguish, and the young, newly 

 mated pairs build themselves new nests, or take possession of old ones 

 whose owners have gone the way of all flesh. The male keeps watch 

 at the entrance, while the female sets the house in order and lays her 

 single Qgg, which is sat upon for about three weeks and a half. The 

 female sits twenty-one hours a day, and the male ought to sit three 

 hours, but he never does it, at least not in the beginning. As soon as 

 the female goes away he rushes after her in a spasm of jealousy, for the 

 young fellows are lurking around in all the corners and at all points. 

 But this neglect of duty by the house-tyrant brings no harm to the 



