A TRIP TO THE FARALLONES 



the other two species build their nests exclusively of dried 

 weeds. We visited the nesting-place of the Farallon cormo- 

 rants and found many nests containing young. They are, I 

 think, the ugliest productions of nature with which I am famil- 

 iar, the texture of their bodies suggesting a black, greasy kid 

 glove. They are almost destitute of feathers, a little dark 

 fuzz here and there indicating where the plumes will eventu- 

 ally appear, while the pin-feathers may have started as dark- 

 colored quills. On our approaching a nest of young they 

 would open their immense mouths and stretch their necks 

 angrily toward the intruder, uttering a low, hoarse, plaintive 

 ^ipa, k^a, k^Qy kjva, k^a. On drawing nearer the cries be- 

 come more violent, the birds fairly squawking in their excite- 

 ment. One nest that I observed particularly, contained two 

 young, one much larger than the other. As we sat watching 

 them, at a short distance, the older bird was noticed preening 

 and caressing the younger with its bill — an unexpected in- 

 stance of brotherly or sisterly interest among such low crea- 

 tures. Upon taking the younger bird from the nest, however, 

 the older one, instead of manifesting a decent amount of grief 

 over the loss of its companion, commenced, the moment its own 

 safety was no longer menaced, preening and dressing its own 

 greasy skin in the most unconcerned manner imaginable. Thus 

 was my little romance of brotherly love suddenly overturned. 

 Baird's cormorant is more solitary in its habits than the 

 other two species. It resorts to steep cliffs upon which to build 

 its home, and I observed one lonely bird upon her nest on a 

 little shelf of rock only about fifty feet above the booming 

 surf, and completely isolated not only from other individuals 

 of her own species but from all the other birds of the island. 



[45] 



