EXPEDITION TO SOUTH GEORGIA 251 



mosaic. This pass is, curiously enough, the route taken by sea birds, 

 particularly terns and skuas, in flying from King Edward Cove to the west 

 fjord lakes. It seemed odd to meet flocks of terns 1700 feet up in the 

 mountains. The summit of the pass is marked by a stone cairn from 

 which the way descends abruptly on the west fjord side to the lake basins in 

 the ancient moraine. There are five transparent lakes, no two on precisely 

 the same level, and the largest nearly half a mile long. Intermingled with 

 them are low, irregular hillocks covered with tussock grass, and at the sea- 

 shore the land rises again, ending in bold cliffs. 



In this attractive area it is but natural that the majority of the twenty- 

 three species of birds which breed on South Georgia can be found. The 

 native gulls, terns, titlarks, ducks and the larger Tubinares nest upon the 

 ground, trusting the safety of their eggs to protective coloration, conceal- 

 ment or constant guard, but the lesser petrels nest in deep burrows in order 

 to escape the predatory skua gull, the universal enemy of every living 

 creature it can master. Extraordinarily populous among the many in- 

 habitants of the tussock hillocks I found the petrel Procellaria oequinoctialis, 

 the "black night hawk" of our sailors and "shoemaker" of the Norwegians. 

 At sea I had often caught these birds, which exceed our herring gull in size, 

 on pork-baited fishhooks. In the west fjord section they were nesting in 

 burrows which they had dug through the frozen ground to a depth of a yard 

 or more, using both feet and bill in the process, and the chatter or "singing" 

 of the subterranean tenants, a pleasant and rather musical sound, usually 

 revealed their presence before the nest entrances under the spreading 

 hummocks were noticed. Early in December nearly all nests contained the 

 single white egg which was often soaking in a pool of muddy water thawed 

 out by the sitting bird. When drawn out of their holes the shoemakers 

 screamed in an ear-splitting key and bit and scratched savagely, but if set 

 free they squatted on the ground stupidly for awhile before taking flight. 

 During the day many flew in from sea with a shrill whistling of their stiff 

 wing quills, and I often surprised others apparently sunning themselves in 

 front of their burrows. 



The greater part of our stay at South Georgia was spent at the lonesome 

 Bay of Isles, and at Possession Bay where in 1775 Captain James Cook set 

 up his colors and claimed the dreary land for his king. At the latter place 

 our anchorage was all but inclosed by a curving wall of valley glaciers the 

 grandeur and proportions of which made them quite outclass the moribund 

 glaciers of the Alps. The difficulty of working at these harbors was very 

 great indeed because an ordinary camp outfit proved inadequate for the 

 conditions encountered. South Georgia is a region of almost continuous 

 violent gales, and my light tent was worthless. It was impossible to keep 

 an oil stove burning within it, so that I suffered considerably from the cold 

 while preparing bird specimens, and moreover the tent blew down frequently 



