228 BIRD LIFE IN WILD WALES 



this promontory some four hundred yards, a Tiercel 

 comes swooping down wind, say sixty yards above 

 us, and almost simultaneously we hear the shrill 

 " kek, kek, kek " of the Falcon from somewhere 

 behind us. Undoubtedly there was a tenanted eyrie 

 somewhere close, and we still think that we should 

 not only have located but examined it closely only 

 unfortunately the boatmen were unable to land us 

 and that same day we were leaving Tenby. 



But having a few more hours on hand, we row 

 across to Caldy Island and after some trouble succeed 

 in landing. 



We cross the Island and prepare to descend the 

 cliffs. We have one crowbar only (two is the usual 

 complement for rock-climbing) and the ropes are not 

 of the thickest — but no matter this, for we would fain 

 visit the Guillemot and Razorbill in their haunt. 

 The cliffs here are certainly not more than two 

 hundred and fifty feet, but it looks far enough in 

 all conscience and we cannot help thinking of our- 

 selves in fragments on the jagged rocks below should 

 any mishap occur. When it comes to the rub the 

 second boatman refuses to participate in the business 

 at all, and we see that he is visibly moved, shaking 

 at the knees and beseeching us to refrain from 

 venturing over the cliff. Thinking that the man 

 is concerned for our safety, we commence praising 

 him for his wondrous fellow-feeling, whereupon he 

 quietly informs us that he is not thinking of our 

 welfare, but his own, for he explains, "Should the rope 

 break I shall be had up for manslaughter " ; so even- 

 tually the other boatman, aged seventy-six, lowers us 



