A TRIP TO THE FARALLONES 



suspended from a sling, rowed out to take us ashore. Once 

 safely landed, we climbed up the long ladder stairway to the 

 level bluff whence the roadway leads around to the lighthouse 

 settlement. Having fasted for thirty-six hours it was annoying 

 to be overcome by seasickness and to be compelled to take a 

 cup of tea in lieu of breakfast. However, time was precious, 

 and, as we had come on a scientific excursion, we were de- 

 termined to make the best of it. The eggers started early on 

 their morning's round, so we trudged along after them as 

 briskly as we could. 



It may be well to digress a few moments to explain the vo- 

 cation of egging as carried on at the Farallones a few years 

 ago. The egg of the California murre was found to have pos- 

 sibilities, as a marketable commodity, of being converted into 

 omelets and sundry other mysterious dishes in the San Fran- 

 cisco restaurants. The shell is so tough that the eggs may be 

 tossed about almost as freely as so many cobblestones, thus 

 making the cargo an especially easy one to handle. A party 

 of Greek fishermen made a practice of camping upon the 

 Farallones during the egging season and gathering enough eggs 

 to keep one of their largest craft constantly employed transport- 

 ing them to town. Upon establishing themselves on the island 

 they would first go about the accessible area occupied by the 

 birds and destroy every egg which could be found. A day or 

 two later they would repeat their visits, gathering a large 

 supply of fresh eggs. These visits were continued every sec- 

 ond or third day of the season, until the resources of the birds 

 were about exhausted. The eggers wore rope shoes to make 

 their footing secure upon the dangerous rocky ledges, and the 

 fronts of their shirts were converted into great pockets in which 



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