382 Journal of Travel and Natural History 



each other with bewildered countenances, until our position 

 struck one of us from the ridiculous point of view, and he burst 

 into a loud laugh, which was infectious, and became general. 

 There was not much to laugh at, however, for we were really 

 castaways on a desert island. True, there was plenty to eat for 

 the gathering, although not much variety, but our supply of water 

 was very small, and we had not yet discovered any spring on the 

 island. What was to be done was the next question. The 

 whaleboat was our only means of escape, so the two seafaring 

 men volunteered to row to San Francisco, as soon as the storm 

 abated, and bring another vessel, whilst, in the meantime, we 

 who remained were to gather a fresh cargo. There was no diffi- 

 culty in getting the loan of the whaleboat, and our captains took 

 their departure. 



We did not find our solitude at all unpleasant, and became every 

 day more pleased with the place and its inhabitants. I watched 

 with interest the habits and peculiarities of the different birds. 



The murr (as our captain called it) is the foolish guillemot. It 

 lays its solitary egg on the bare rock, without any attempt at 

 building a nest, not even a stick or a straw, but is not the less 

 careful and attached to them, of which we saw plenty of instances. 

 The sea gulls were flying round in great numbers, and the 

 moment they saw an egg without the protection of the mother 

 they pounced upon it, flew off with it to a little distance, dropped 

 it on the rocks to break the shell, and immediately gobbled up 

 the contents.. 



One day I was watching this little game, when I saw a gull 

 hovering round a guillemot who was sitting on her egg. The gull 

 emboldened by success thought to take the egg from under her. 

 She drew back her neck, watched her opportunity, and with a 

 sudden dart of her sharp bill, stabbed her enemy to the heart. 

 I took up the dead bird, and found it had been pierced just under 

 the wing. We cooked the gull as we were getting tired of nothing 

 but eggs, eggs, eggs, for breakfast, dinner, and supper, and very good 

 eating it was, entirely free from the strong fishy taste that almost 

 invariably attaches to these birds, affording a curious exemplifica- 

 tion of the influence food has on the taste of tlie animals we eat. 

 Metn. — Egg-fed gulls are not fishy. 



As another variety to our bill of fare, we found a bed of large 

 mussels on the rocks, poor stuff, but acceptable as a change. 



Unfortunately our keg of water gave out ere long, and we could 



