IN THE SHETLANDS 299 
resembling the feet in colour—of an orange-red, that 
is to say—and just within this ring there is a dot 
at one point of the iris, and a straight line at the 
other, both of which are really of a bluish or slaty 
hue, but have the appearance of being black. This 
line and dot form the base and apex respectively of 
a sort of little triangle, the sides of which are formed 
by a deep depression in the skin, and within it the 
eye is framed like a little miniature, and, as is some- 
times the case with pictures, partly encroached upon 
by the frame, so that its circular shape is interfered 
with. The effect of the whole—for all these details 
blend together, and can only be distinguished with the 
glasses—is that the bird seems to have a triangular 
eye, and this bizarre appearance is heightened by 
another, and much deeper, line, or fold, in the feathers, 
which runs back from the base of the triangle till 
it meets, or tries to meet, the black feathers of the 
head and neck, in a little delta between the two. 
Hardly less wonderful than the eye are the cheeks— 
if one may call them so—those two sharply defined 
oval surfaces of light, shining grey, so smooth and 
polished that they do not suggest feathers at all, but 
look much more like little veneered panels of fancy 
woodwork, let into a framework of ebony. To 
all this the beak has been added, to give full and 
crowning effect to the idea that governed at the 
puffin’s making, which was that it should be “as 
remarkable a figure of a bird as any in our country,” 
or elsewhere. 
