THE MOTHER MURRE 73 



as fast as one takes them from the nest-hole, until 

 she has no more eggs to lay. The quail will some- 

 times desert her nest if even a single egg is so much 

 as touched, but only because she knows that she has 

 been discovered and must start a new nest, hidden 

 in some new place, for safety. She is a wise and de- 

 voted mother, keeping her brood with her as a 

 " covey" all winter long. 



One of the most striking cases of mother-love 

 which has ever come under my observation, I saw 

 in the summer of 1912 on the bird rookeries of the 

 Three- Arch Rocks Reservation off the coast of Ore- 

 gon. 



We were making our slow way toward the top of 

 the outer rock. Through rookery after rookery of 

 birds we climbed until we reached the edge of the 

 summit. Scrambling over this edge, we found our- 

 selves in the midst of a great colony of nesting 

 murres hundreds of them covering this steep 

 rocky part of the top. 



As our heads appeared above the rim, many of 

 the colony took wing and whirred over us out to 

 sea, but most of them sat close, each bird upon its 

 egg or over its chick, loath to leave, and so expose 

 to us the hidden treasure. 



The top of the rock was somewhat cone-shaped, 

 and in order to reach the peak and the colonies on 

 the west side we had to make our way through this 

 rookery of the murres. The first step among them, 



