THE COMMON GUILLEMOT 293 
distinguished among other sea-birds by their black and white 
colours, short neck, and sharp beak. They swim low in the water ; 
and when disturbed do not invariably dive like the Grebes and Divers, 
but readily take wing. They are essentially marine birds, never 
resorting to fresh water, and living exclusively on fish, which they 
capture by diving, an art in which they are scarcely less skilful than 
the true Divers, and which they practise in the same way—by the 
means, namely, of both wings and feet. Occasionally, a small 
party may be observed, flying in single file near the surface of the 
water. On the eastern coast of England, the Guillemot is best 
known by the name of Willock. It is also called Tinker’s Hue, 
or, as Yarrell gives it, ‘ Tinkershere ’; and in the west of England 
it is often called a Murr. The old writers describe it under the 
name of Greenland Dove, or Sea Turtle-Dove ; and in Scotland it 
has a variety of other names. Tinker’s Hue is, I presume, the 
sobriquet of a white bird with a smutty back; Murr is clearly a 
corruption of Mergus, or ‘ diver’. Yet more commonly it is known 
as the ‘ Foolish Guillemot’, a term of reproach analogous to that 
of ‘ Booby’, given to it from the indifference which it evinces, in the 
breeding season, to one of its few, but that one the most formidable 
of its enemies, man. Early in spring Guillemots throng together 
from all parts of the open sea, and repair to some lofty cliff, where, 
on a narrow ledge of rock, which in their folly they deem inaccessible, 
they lay each a single egg. As the bird holds the egg between her 
legs, she could not well cover more than one; and though a con- 
cave nest is very needful to keep eggs together when there are 
several, no such contrivance is necessary when there is one only; 
so the Foolish Guillemot builds no nest, but lays a solitary egg on 
the bare rock. The egg, which is large, is thick-shelled and rough, 
so that it receives no detriment from the rock; and it is not likely 
to roll off, for at one end it is thick, and at the other tapers almost 
to a point; consequently, if accidentally moved by the parent 
bird when taking flight, it turns as if on a pivot, but does not fall 
off. At this season, the cliffs to which Guillemots resort are fre- 
quented also by myriads of other sea-birds, such as Razor-bills, 
Puffins, and Gulls, each congregating with its own species, but 
never consorting with another. In Iceland, the Faroe Islands, St. 
Kilda, the Orkneys, and many parts of the coast of Scotland, the 
breeding season of these birds is the harvest-time of the natives. 
Either by climbing from below, or by being let down with ropes 
from above, the egg-collectors invade the dominions of these literally 
feathered ‘tribes’. The Foolish Guillemots, rather than leave 
their charge, suffer themselves to be knocked on the head, to be 
netted, or noosed. Although stationed so close to each other that 
a Foolish Guillemot alone could know its own egg, they learn no 
wisdom from the fate of their nearest neighbours. They are 
captured in detail for the sake of their feathers; and their eggs 
