WATCHING SHAGS AND GUILLEMOTS 197 



majority of the birds still stand, and some preen 

 themselves. The glasses have become inferior to the 

 naked eye, though one can read anything with per- 

 fect ease. The birds, it is evident, judge of night 

 by the light. They do not make a factitious night 

 according to the duration of time. They sleep, 

 indeed, in patches, but, on the whole, would seem to 

 do so very little in the twenty-four hours. 



" 1 1. 17. The majority of the birds are now roosting, 

 perhaps almost all. I can see no puffins. They must, 

 therefore, it seems, lie roosting too, in holes or crevices 

 of the rocks. 



"11.30. All quiet at Shipka. 



"11.35. -^ bird flies in duskily from the sea, and 

 now no fighting ensues. All is quiet at Shipka. 



"11.50. All quiet at Shipka — a little more so 

 perhaps. 



"11.55. As before. 



"12 o'clock. Much as before, but two birds are, 

 I think, cosseting. Though one can read and write 

 with ease, and see all objects — even birds sitting or 

 flying a long way off — still it is all gloom and yellow 

 murkiness. Light seems gone, though there be light. 

 It is 'darkness visible,' indeed, neither true night nor 

 true day, but more like night than day. The great 

 shapes of cliff and hill seem drawn in gloom clearly, 

 the sea gleams dimly and duskily, all is weird, strange, 

 and portentous. It is the marriage of opposite king- 

 doms, or rather, the monstrous child of light and 

 darkness. 



"12.15. All roosting, I think. 



"12.30. Quiet now. All quiet at Shipka. 



"12.43. Much as before. On the steep side of 



