LETTER II. 49 



these large stones are rugged and angular, consequently lying 

 loosely together, easily allowing the mouse-like Petrel to penetrate 

 the numerous interstices, and to circulate freely a long way below 

 the surface, just as we see a Wren, chased by a dog, taking refuge 

 in a dry stone dike ; and while the dog keeps watching the hole 

 at which he entered, in a moment the Wren hops out of the dike 

 a gun-shot further on, and chirps a feeble insult at his pursuer. 

 It would be impossible ever to discover the Petrel in such a 

 situation as this, were it not for its betraying itself, which it 

 does in a peculiar manner, especially about dusk, in the evening, 

 or at sunrise. If you happen to be upon one of these wild solitary 

 spots, you hear a most peculiar buzzing noise, not unlike that of 

 a spinning-wheel, or a goat-sucker. It is not continuous, for at 

 intervals of about ten seconds it is broken by a sharp click. You 

 soon find this music issues from beneath your feet ; guided by 

 the sound, you commence removing the heavy stones ; you are 

 encouraged in your labour by hearing the sound nearer and more 

 distinct ; sometimes it ceases, then recommences ; the noise and 

 rolling of the rocks seem to provoke the subterranean musician 

 to renewed efforts, until with a vigorous effort the last great stone 

 is rooted out, and the mystery is laid bare. We see a little black 

 object shuffling off, its small white egg lying upon a few blades 

 of dry grass to protect it from the hard rock. The bird scarcely 

 makes an effort to escape ; as if dazzled by the broad glare of 

 daylight, or stunned by the depth of its misfortune, it lies 

 passively in the hand of its captor, gives a faint squeak, and 

 drops a pellucid tear, in the shape of a globule of oil, from 

 its beak. 



