166 THE INHABITANTS OF THE SEA. 
land. On the crest of the highest precipices, and only on such 
as are furnished with small grassy shelves, on every spot above 
a few inches in extent, the fulmars have taken possession of the 
rock. On being seized, they instantly disgorge a quantity of clear 
amber-coloured oil, which imparts to the whole bird, its nest 
and young, and even the very rock which it frequents, a peculiar 
and very disagreeable odour. 
Fulmar oil is one of the most valuable productions of St. 
Kilda. The best is obtained from the old bird by surprising it 
at night upon the rock, and tightly closing the bill until the 
fowler has seized the bird between his knees with its head down- 
wards. By opening the bill, the fulmar is allowed to eject 
about a table-spoonful, or rather more, of oil into the dried 
gullet or stomach of a solan-goose. The islanders use fulmar- 
oil for their lamps, and consider it as an infallible remedy against 
chronic rheumatism. 
It is chiefly in pursuit of the fulmar that the St. Kildian often 
endangers his life. Two of the fowlers generally proceed in 
company, each furnished with several coils of rope, about half an 
inch in diameter. One of them fastens one of the ropes under 
his armpits, and holding the extremity of another rope in one 
hand, is lowered down the cliff. His comrade stands a little 
away from the edge, holding the supporting rope firmly with 
both hands and letting it out very slowly, while he allows the 
other, or guide-rope, to slip out as is required from under one 
foot, which loosely secures it. On reaching a ledge occupied 
by birds, the fowler commences his operations, easily securing 
the eggs and young birds, and knocking down the old ones with 
a short stick, or catching them by a noose attached to a long 
slender rod. He then secures his sport by bundling the birds 
together, and tying them to a rope let down from above, depositing 
at the same time in asmall basket the eggs he has gathered. The 
dexterity of these rocksmen is truly astonishing. The smallest 
spot is considered by them asa sufficiently secure standing-place, 
and they will creep on hands and knees, though cumbered with 
a load of birds, along a narrow ledge, seemingly without concern 
for their personal safety. When exhibiting before strangers, a 
precipice about six hundred feet high, overhanging the sea, at 
a short distance from the village, is generally chosen for a dis- 
play of their agility. About midway they strike against the 
