ANCIENT MURRELET 137 



teresting account of the early departure of the young, which is cer- 

 tainly a striking performance: 



The journey of the young to the sea is one of the most interesting sights on 

 the island, and by the aid of a lantern was witnessed on several occasions. The 

 pilgrimage is made during the night within a day or two after hatching, and is 

 evidently initiated by one or both of the parents who take up a position on the 

 sea not far from the shore. Here, about midnight, they commence a chorus of 

 calls resembling the chirp of an English sparrow with the tremulo stop open, 

 and in response the young beautiful, black-and-white creatures, as active as 

 young quails, soon pour in a living flood down the hillsides. Falling over roots, 

 scrambling through the brush, or sprawling headlong over the rocks, they race 

 at a surprising rate of speed drawn by the all-compelling instinct to reach the 

 sea. They may be temporarily attracted by the lantern's light, and flutter 

 aimlessly about one's feet; but sooner or later they heed the calls and once 

 more plunge down the slopes. Almost every night during these migrations the 

 surf was pounding violently on the rocky beaches, and many times one could 

 see the young swept off the cliffs, and after struggling a moment in the waves 

 they disappeared from sight and seemed doomed to destruction. 



To test the correctness of this observation a young murrelet, which came 

 down the slopes early one evening, was liberated on the beach close to the 

 dashing surf. Without a moment's hesitation, and without the stimulus of 

 a parent's call, it plunged boldly into the water, poised a moment on the summit 

 of a great foam-crested wave, and dived with surprising speed and accuracy 

 to reappear 10 seconds later as many feet at sea. A momentary appearance, 

 another dive and still another carried it beyond the swirl of the surf, and, 

 swimming rapidly and paddling across patches of kelp, always in a bee line, it 

 soon disappeared from view. 



Plumages. In the downy young the upper parts are of jet black, 

 including the back, wings, crown, and sides of the head to a point 

 below the eye; there is a whitish auricular patch in the black area 

 back of the ear; the occiput and the whole dorsal region seems to 

 be clouded with bluish gray, due to a subterminal portion of each 

 filament being so colored; the under parts are pure white, slightly 

 tinged with yellowish. 



I have not been able to find any specimens showing the changes 

 from the downy young to the first winter plumage, but the young 

 bird in the fall has the throat mostly or wholly white, though in 

 some cases there is more or less dusky on the chin; there are no 

 white plumes on the head, neck, or shoulders, which are character- 

 istic of the adult; the bill of the young bird is dusky and smaller 

 than that of the adult. During the late winter or early spring a 

 partial molt takes place, producing the black throat of the first 

 nuptial plumage and making old and young birds practically 

 indistinguishable. 



The adult has a partial prenuptial molt in the late winter or early 

 spring, involving mainly the head and neck and a complete post- 

 nuptial molt late in the summer producing the adult winter plumage. 

 The adult in the fall has a more or less whitish bill and usually 



