A VISIT TO ST KILDA. i6i 



also not been ashore long before the Wren at- 

 tracted my notice, and I saw at once that it was 

 not the typical British form. Unfortunately when 

 I reached St. Kilda the great annual egg harvest 

 was nearly over, and of the hundreds of eggs I 

 took from the rocks but very few were fresh 

 enough to blow. Fortunately, however, the Fork- 

 tailed Petrels are rather late breeders, and they had 

 only just commenced laying. The St. Kildans 

 eat vast quantities of eggs, especially those of the 

 Fulmar and of the various species of Auks. I was 

 also astonished at the state in which an egg would 

 be eaten, the highly-incubated ones being just as 

 palatable — perhaps even more so — as those that 

 were newly laid ! 



St. Kilda is an ideal commonwealth. Each 

 morning the adult population will consult together 

 as to what business is to engage their attention 

 during the day. Even the most simple affairs of 

 daily life are seriously debated — all work in union 

 and for the common good. Shops there are none, 

 and so far as I could see barter was unknown. 

 The cliffs of St. Kilda are divided equally amongst 

 the inhabitants — just like so many allotment 

 gardens, and a man seldom or never poaches on the 

 preserves of his neighbours. Each year the rocks 



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