4 MEMOIRS OF THE NUTTALL ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 



the Ipswich Sparrow. Lvhig as it docs far out in the ocean, nearl}' one 

 hundred miles from the Nova Scotia coast, a landing upon it impracticable 

 except in fine weather, and wrapped in impenetrable fog for weeks at a 

 time, small wonder is it that this lonely sand-bank should have guarded its 

 secrets for so many years. Now at last it has yielded tliem up, and the 

 home life of the Ipswich Sparrow, its unknown song, its undiscovered nest 

 and eggs, its undescribed fledgling plumage, are no longer matters of con- 

 jecture. It is my pleasant task in these pages to lay them before m}' 

 readers, with some other new facts that came to my notice while exiled 

 on the narrow strip of sand known as Sable Island. I reached there on 

 the 2Sth of May, 1894, departing thence on the 14th of June. No one is 

 allowed to land witiiout a permit from the Dominion Government, but, 

 thanks to kind and interested friends, this was obtained for me without 

 the delays and red tape that are apt to discourage such efforts. From the 

 Government officials with whom I came in contact I received every atten- 

 tion, and to the cordial hospitality of Mr. Robert J. Boutilier, especially, 

 the superintendent of the life-saving service on the island, and his family 

 I owe the great success of my expedition. 



Tiie only communication the island has with the mainland is by the 

 Government steamer which at long and irregular intervals carries supplies 

 thither for the seventeen men (several of them with families) who now hiok 

 after the two lighthouses aiul four life-saving stations. The trip, if made 

 from Halifax, usually occupies a whole day, but the boat ma\' spend da3's 

 or even weeks suppl3'ing the other lighthouses of the Nova Scotia (or 

 occasionally the Newfoundhiiul) coast before it proceeds to Sable Island. 

 The frequent fogs and the impossibility of making a landing unless the wind 

 is in the right quarter, are other sources of delay aiul danger in visiting the 

 place, and to accomplish it an unlimited amount of time and patience must 

 be at one's disposal. The voyages to and from the island actually occupied 

 me six days, two of which were spent at anchor in the fog. As I went ofl' 

 in the first boat that had visited the island in five months I confess to 

 some misgivings when the steamer left me, as to how long I might be obliged 

 to play Robinson Crusoe. Like that gentleman I swept up the beach on the 

 crest of a breaker, but I had the advantage of him in being comfortably 

 seated in a surf boat. The cordiality of ni}' reception quickly dispelled 

 all doubts as to my surviving for an indefinite period, and when I left the 

 island it was with regret, for everybody seemed to take an interest in my 

 researches, and no sooner was a nest found or a bird caught than the 

 intelligence came to me over the telephone wires that connect the dilTereut 

 stations, and some of the domesticated wild ponies were ready in the barns 

 to transport me wherever I wished to go. 



