Jt QUIST 



the cliff. A hooded crow was busy on the shore, so 

 fearless or so tame that he waited until the keel grated 

 011 the shingle before he fluttered up the rocks and flew 

 to some fresh hunting-ground. We had hardly crossed 

 the little beach, with its piles of weed and drift-wood 

 sea-worn plank and broken oar when all at once we 

 came on a very sanctuary of birds. Lying at our feet 

 were the smooth levels of a bay, whose narrow entrance 

 farther down screened it altogether from the ocean 

 swell. A score of herons, standing motionless in the 

 water, woke suddenly into life as their solitude was 

 broken, and spread their great wings towards the hills. 

 Curlews and oyster-catchers started up to left and right, 

 with plaintive notes, and hurried down the windings of 

 the shore. Farther off a flock of terns were flying, their 

 white wings doubled in the water as they stooped to 

 touch the smooth brown surface, and sea-gulls soaring 

 far above mingled with the strange cries of the terns 

 their half -articulate speech. 



But now the clouds that alt day long had been 

 gathering round the Stack began to sweep downward 

 from the hills ; before long a squall was driving down 

 the lake. We were well defended however with coats 

 and oilskins, knowing well the moods of West Highland 

 weather, and we cared little for the rain. All thought 

 of shelter too was forgotten when a diver came up 

 within a few yards of the boat. He looked round at 

 us a moment and then vanished. There was little hope 

 of any nearer view. Chasing a diver is an almost 

 hopeless task. Pull as we might he foiled us still 



