140 Townsenp, In Audubon’s Labrador. [ Aw 
thing. The Cormorant nests, great basket affairs nearly two feet 
across and from three inches to a foot in height, were made of weed 
stalks intermingled with dry grass and sea weed, branches of curlew 
berry vine, spruce or fir. Many of the nests, although much 
soiled with the droppings of the bird, had some decoration in the 
form of a feather or two or a fresh green branch. A few of the 
nests contained eggs but in most of them were three young, some- 
times four or only two. When small, the young were entirely 
destitute of down and were of the color and appearance of a black 
rubber doll. The larger ones from a foot to two feet long, were 
covered with a black woolly down suggestive of a toy black lamb. . 
They were indeed weird objects as they thrust out their long snake- 
like necks and small heads. Their naked throat sacks, of a pale 
yellow color, tinged with pink, distended and quivered as they 
constantly called in hoarse, beseeching tones for food. 
The Murres, or Marmettes, as they are called on the coast, stood 
about in crowds and anxiously made way for us, walking or running 
along erect, with legs apart in a comical manner as they waved their 
short paddlelike wings to aid them in balancing. In their anxiety 
and nervousness, they frequently fell over the Cormorant nests and 
sadly stained their white shirtfronts and often, in their attempts to 
rise on the wing, they would sprawl head foremost down the rocks, 
bounding from ledge to ledge. Ringed Murres were not uncommon 
and I came upon one group of fifteen or twenty together of this 
form or species, as it perhaps deserves to be called. There were no 
Briinnich’s Murres. 
We calculated there were about 1200 adult Double-Crested Cor- 
morants nesting on the island and 2000 Murres. The Murres, 
although silent on the rock, uttered curious sounds as they flew, 
and, when they collected in groups on the water, their combined 
voices produced a long-drawn, moaning wail. At times it was a 
sharp snarl, at times it resembled the plaintive bleating of a forlorn 
lamb. 
We sailed on and soon found ourselves under the cliffs of Cape 
Whittle, which rise from deep water to a height of about two hun- 
dred feet. The red rocks were painted white in places by cormo- 
rant droppings, but only fifteen or twenty nests were to be seen 
where up to a few years ago they were to be counted by hundreds. 
