IN THE SHETLANDS 239 
things, with long bodies and many legs, began to hop 
and skip about like a routed army. They seemed to 
know the enemy was amongst them, and for the wren, 
he pursued them with the most relentless activity, and 
looking very fierce about it. He came so near me 
that I could see him catch them individually, see the 
whole chase, all his little runs, hops, turns, flights, 
flutters, each with its distinct object ; nor did 1 ever see 
him chase one that he did not shortly capture. From 
the very first, something in the bird’s manner shot into 
me the idea that he had never before seen man— 
never, at least, with the eye of a full recognition. 
Supposing him to live and breed in this one great 
rocky amphitheatre, this would be likely enough, for 
even at the top of it, on the ness-side, one man only 
lives, and that but for three months in the year. It 
is true that during those three months the ness is 
often visited—by thieves and others—but none, it 
is safe to assume, either know of or come down to 
this cove. 
At any rate this wren came at last so near me that 
I expected every instant he would hop on to one of 
my boots, and although he did not actually do this I 
believe it was simply because he saw nothing there to 
catch. He often ran up the steep, rough sides of 
these great blocks with the greatest ease, investigating 
all their chinks and every little piece of moss or lichen 
that adhered to them. Always he had an air of 
severity, something /farouche, about him, which was 
very amusing tosee. It is fascinating, I think, thus to 
