AMONG THE WaATER-FOoWL 
of it again. No doubt it was taking its turn 
upon the nest. So anxious was I to learn of 
further that, a few days later, I made a special 
trip again to this remote rock, only to be disap- 
pointed. I did not see anything of it, nor had 
any of the people noticed it. It was tantalizing 
probably to be walking a few feet over it, and 
yet, despite all my peering under the rocks, not to 
discover it. 
However I was repaid for the effort by the 
privilege of examining a few more of the fine eggs 
of the “Sea Pigeons,” each set different in mark- 
ings and each nesting-spot chosen having some 
interesting feature. Even with all the din of the 
hovering Terns, we could often detect the location 
of the nest by a peculiar rustling sound, as the incu- 
bating bird scurried, at our approach, further under 
the sheltering rock. ‘Then comes the pleasure and 
excitement of seeing if the eggs can be gotten at. 
And what a source of enjoyment it is to sit on the 
rocks, quite well out of sight, and see the pretty 
creatures pass and repass, often close to one’s face, 
with that little murmuring sound, noting the green 
gloss of the black plumage, and the coral-red legs 
extended out behind, or dangling when their owner 
is about to alight. Now and then a Pufhn whirrs 
by, giving variety with its grotesque, painted bill 
and its paler orange legs. After many circlings 
back and to, out to sea and in again, at length a 
Guillemot alights quite near. Then another comes, 
and presently hietess is quite a little group, perhaps 
eight or ten, waddling about, or sitting in a slanting 
attitude, not as erect as the Murres, it seemed to 
(ale) 
