LIFE HISTOKIES OF NORTH AMERICAN PETRELS AND PELICANS. 93 



Island has an area of 1,200 acres, Little Dog Island about 120 acres. These are 

 fair specimens of the rookeries, and I have calculated that 40,000 holes per acre 

 is not an exaggerated estimate. All day long the j^ouug birds are absolutely 

 silent. The uninitiated might imagine that nothing edible existed underfoot, 

 and that they stood upon a deserted rabbit-warren. Gazing out to sea on all 

 sides, the watcher will not yet detect a single petrel ; not till the sun has set and 

 the darkness is increasing is there any sign of the wonderful rush of birds, 

 which, to a naturalist, is so fascinating a sight. The following figures, noted 

 in the month of February, may be of interest : 6.36 p. m., not a petrel in sight ; 

 6.40, the first bird visible out at sea ; 6.43, the sun disappeared ; 6.48, sunset from 

 the top of the lighthouse (Goose Island) and the light flashed out; 6.53, the 

 first petrel flew rapidly over the island without settling ; 6.56, the numbers so 

 great that I ceased counting; 6.58, the numbers become bewildering; 7.06, the 

 numbers at their maximum — tens of thousands whirling, wheeling, flashing up 

 from all sides, are whistling like buUets past one's head, till it seemed almost 

 dangerous to stand up ; 7.30, nearly all the birds had arrived. Then, and not 

 till then, do the noises commence. The flight inward of the parent birds is con- 

 ducted in absolute silence. Nothing, indeed, can be more weird than this rush 

 of dumb creatures, so perfect in flight, but uttering no sound. As soon as the 

 majority have arrived the ground emits the most extraordinary sounds — gur- 

 glings, groaning, and hoarse laughter. It must be confessed that there is no 

 music In the note. On Chappell Island some 300,000 young birds would at this 

 moment be receiving oil into their throats, poured into them by the parents, who 

 thus give them the one meal the fledglings receive in the 24 hours. 



I now proceed to give the results of a whole night spent on a large rookery 

 on Big Dog Island, under a full moon, a roaring westerly gale blowing over 

 the island. It was March 1, 1896. With watch and pocketbook I lay among 

 the birds or walked silently about noting what I now set down: Up to 10 

 p. m. the underground noises continue, then silence falls on the rookery. The 

 young birds are digesting; the parents are resting; but the latter are not by 

 any means all in the holes for some of them come out almost immediately 

 and walk about among the long grass, and many of them sleep in the open 

 air. I stepped silently about among them as they crouched on the ground; 

 in no case did they put their heads under their wings, as many birds do. 

 Often one of them walked up to my foot, and the slightest movement on my 

 part sent him scurrying away like a rabbit quite unable to fly off the ground. 

 The moon was so bright that the rookery was almost as light as day. All 

 night long a few score of birds flitted noiselessly over the rookery, just skim- 

 ming the tops of the low bushes and passing within a foot of my face as I lay 

 concealed. Hour after hour this graceful quadrille proceeded almost with- 

 out sound of wings and as from creatures absolutely incapable of speech. 

 At about 2.30 a. m. the rookery awoke. Noises came from all sides; a larger 

 number of birds fla.shed silently over the ground. I walked toward a sandy 

 ridge some thirty yards from the shore. Scores of birds walked up to the 

 edge, then they raised their wings right over their backs till they nearly met 

 at full stretch. They stood thus quivering in the wind for a few seconds, and 

 then launched themselves into the air and were at once in flight. Close by a 

 bird undergi'ouud was sending a fountain of sand into the air as he cleaned 

 out the hole preparatory to departure. At 3.15 a. m. the rookery was fully 

 awake; hundreds of birds were leaving. I passed on and laid myself down 

 within eight paces of a large rock with sloping sides and watched the birds 

 as they clambered up it, and, extending their wings in the manner I have 

 described, launched themselves into the air. In every case, they faced the 



