4 MEMOIRS OF THE NUTTALL ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 
the Ipswich Sparrow. Lying as it does far out in the ocean, nearly one 
hundred miles from the Nova Scotia coast, a landing upon it impracticable 
except in fine weather, and wrapped in impenetrable fog for weeks ata 
time, small wonder is it that this lonely sand-bank should have guarded its 
secrets for so many years. Now at last it has yielded them up, and the 
home life of the Ipswich Sparrow, its unknown song, its undiscovered nest 
and eggs, its undescribed fledgling plumage, are no longer matters of con- 
jecture. It is my pleasant task in these pages to lay them before my 
readers, with some other new facts that came to my notice while exiled 
on the narrow strip of sand known as Sable Island. I reached there on 
the 28th of May, 1894, departing thence on the 14th of June. No one is 
allowed to land without a permit from the Dominion Government, but, 
thanks to kind and interested friends, this was obtained for me without 
the delays and red tape that are apt to discourage such efforts. From the 
Government officials with whom I came in contact I received every atten- 
tion, and to the cordial hospitality of Mr. Robert J. Boutilier, especially, 
the superintendent of the life-saving service on the island, and his family 
I owe the great success of my expedition. 
The only communication the island has with the mainland is by the 
Government steamer which at long and irregular intervals carries supplies 
thither for the seventeen men (several of them with families) who now look 
after the two lighthouses and four life-saving stations. The trip, if made 
from Halifax, usually occupies a whole day, but the boat may spend days 
or even weeks supplying the other lighthouses of the Nova Scotia (or 
occasionally the Newfoundland) coast before it proceeds to Sable Island. 
The frequent fogs and the impossibility of making a landing unless the wind 
is in the right quarter, are other sources of delay and danger in visiting the 
place, and to accomplish it an unlimited amount of time and patience must 
be at one’s disposal. The voyages to and from the island actually occupied 
me six days, two of which were spent at anchor in the fog. As I went off 
in the first boat that had visited the island in five months I confess to 
some misgivings when the steamer left me, as to how long I might be obliged 
to play Robinson Crusoe. Like that gentleman I swept up the beach on the 
crest of a breaker, but I had the advantage of him in being comfortably 
seated ina surf boat. The cordiality of my reception quickly dispelled 
all doubts as to my surviving for an indefinite period, and when I left the 
island it was with regret, for everybody seemed to take an interest in my 
researches, and no sooner was a nest found or a bird caught than the 
intelligence came to me over the telephone wires that connect the different 
stations, and some of the domesticated wild ponies were ready in the barns 
to transport me wherever I wished to go. 
