134 LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN DIVING BIRDS 



auklets and thousands of petrels, become almost distracting and banish sleep 

 most effectually for the first few nights on the island. 



These, then, are some of our murrelets' neighbors; but where is he? We 

 listen in vain for some note of his, but hear none. As we walk on a little 

 distance among the tall grass of last year's growth we notice a small dark object 

 flapping about, and after a short chase we manage to capture it and discover 

 our "old man," but fail to locate his nest, one of the main objects of our long 

 and tedious voyage, and we did not succeed in finding one containing eggs until 

 the llth of June. This was principally because they had not commenced to lay 

 sooner, and partly, also, because we did not then look in the places under 

 rank matted grass which are mostly preferred by this murrelet for nesting 

 sites. 



We remained on this desolate, wind-swept island from May 29 until June 12. 

 Our days were spent in hunting, preparing skins and eggs, but time passed 

 slowly. At first we looked forward to night in order to renew our acquaintance 

 with our feathered neighbors, but after losing about a week's sleep, owing to 

 their squeaking, I, at least, felt like choking the whole lot; and as if not 

 satisfied with the constant babble of their neighbors, the murrelets took especial 

 delight in alighting at the foot of our A-shaped tent, toenailing it up to the 

 ridgepole, resting there a moment, and then sliding down on the other side. 

 This exercise seems to amuse them, and it certainly did us, until the novelty 

 wore off, as it was not conducive to a restful sleep, and finally, tiring of this, 

 and finding but few murrelets' eggs, we broke camp and started for the main- 

 land, and did not return to the island again until June 23. 



In a short time after the first birds arrive on their breeding grounds, and 

 before one has time to realize it, the entire surface of certain favorite islands 

 is literally alive with murrelets and auklets, in the proportion of about two 

 of the latter to one of the former, as well as of both Leach's and fork-tailed 

 petrels (Oceanodroma furcata), the first greatly outnumbering the last. When 

 one walks about at this time, the murrelets and auklets become frightened, 

 running, flopping, and flying about in such numbers that one has to be careful 

 where he steps, lest they be crushed under foot. If it is windy and it usually 

 is they are on the wing at once as soon as disturbed, and quickly out of sight, 

 but when a calm prevails they have to flop to the side of a steep bank where 

 they can jump off, and thereby gain sufficient headway to keep on the wing, 

 and then in their frantic efforts to be off, they become bewildered and are 

 just as apt to fly in one's face, or against the cliffs, as anywhere; although they 

 usually strike with great force when fairly started, I have never seen one killed 

 or even stunned. They no sooner touch the earth, than they are flopping off 

 again at a great rate. 



It is a difficult matter to calculate the numbers that visit this small island 

 annually, but they certainly number several thousands and if left unmolested 

 by man the island would soon become too small to accommodate their natural 

 increase, but such is by no means the case. The native Aleuts know, almost 

 to a day, when the first ones will arrive, and are there to meet them, invading 

 the island armed with stout clubs, and every bird, auklet or murrelet, that is 

 overtaken is promptly clubbed to death and thrown into a sack carried for this 

 purpose. At each of these raids hundreds of these birds are killed, and as they 

 are made frequently and throughout the entire season, it is astonishing that 

 any remain. But this is not all; as soon as day dawns, the entire crew sets 

 out to make a systematic search for eggs, which are well flavored and good 

 eating, each one striving to get more than his mates; and as it makes no dif- 

 ference to a native whether they are fresh or on the point of hatching, every- 



