May, 1908.] THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 23 



song of the mermaids ? I soliloquized. Could it be the sirens 

 that tried to lure Ulysses to destruction ? Impossible ! They 

 were myths pure and simple. What could it be ? Bent on 

 investigation, I scrambled down the cliff and discovered that the 

 sound, when divested of part of the accompanying roar of the 

 ocean, which the overtowering cliffs here deadened, resolved 

 itself into the psalm of the penguins on their return home. When 

 they had effected a landing on the rock, which was accomplished 

 by allowing the waves to sweep them on to it through the broken 

 surf, they emitted short, subdued barking quacks of pleasure, 

 which, blending with the roar of the ocean as it ascended and 

 drifted over the cliffs, seemed like the rhythm of human music. 

 Fully satisfied, I climbed back once more to my rocky couch, and 

 rolling myself in my blanket, which was now wet with dew, I essayed 

 another journey to dreamland, and having reached its sublime 

 portals I was rudely awakened by a feeling that something had 

 walked over my head. Sitting up quickly to ascertain what it 

 was, I upset a penguin that had calmly walked on to my head 

 and had wandered down along my body to my legs. Emitting a 

 squawk of fright at being so unceremoniously disturbed, it waddled 

 off. All around were its companions scrambling up the lower 

 parts of the cliffs towards me, and to my chagrin I found that I 

 had camped on the track along which they travel from the sea to 

 their rookery. This was the only place where they could get up 

 the steep cliffs, and I had chosen the worst place on the rock on 

 which to camp. Having no choice of another spot, I made up 

 my mind to stay where I was and allow the Penguins to walk 

 over me, which they did when I covered over my face and 

 remained still under my " bluey." Otherwise, when I left my 

 face uncovered, they waddled up within a foot or so and stupidly 

 stared at me for an indefinite time. 



I had excellent opportunities, as I peeped out from under my 

 blanket, to observe how the penguins scrambled up the rocks, 

 and when, by losing their foothold, they tumbled down some 

 two or three feet in places, they adopted the old adage " If you 

 don't succeed at first, try, try, try again." Some succeeded ; 

 others had, after repeated efforts, to try to ascend at another spot 

 in the track, and at one of the most difficult points, where the 

 rocks were jagged and cut the penguins' feet, a trail of blood 

 marked their course. In no instance was I able to discern them 

 using their flightless wings as auxiliaries to assist in their loco- 

 motion. The main body of the penguins, in their march upwards 

 to their rookery, selected an easier place by which to ascend, 

 which led them to an eminence about two feet above me, and when 

 they reached this spot they jumped down, and usually landed 

 upon my head. Under these circumstances sleep was impossible, 

 so I wandered over the islet during the balance of the night. 



