256 THE FOWLER IN IRELAND. 



We now pass through two small gateways, and 

 what a panorama comes into view ! The light- 

 house, within a few feet to our left. In front, across 

 a cave, huge granite rocks pinnacled in all manner 

 of forms, above these on higher ground another 

 lighthouse. This latter was put out in 1871, as, 

 being at such a great elevation, mariners ofttimes 

 took it to be a star. To the right is the highest 

 peak of all, called the " Spit." Near us stands a great 

 slice of rock, 100 feet high and about 10 feet thick ; 

 another similar piece lies alongside the one erect. 

 On reaching the angle of the cave, sixty yards 

 farther on, we see a white stream flowing swiftly 

 out, and gradually dwindling down to two or three 

 specks : these are Kittiwakes. The other birds 

 on the benches of rock, that bow to us so politely 

 as we come nearer, are Guillemots. They have a 

 peculiar habit of bowing most gracefully on their 

 nesting-place being approached, chiefly the male 

 birds, who are standing up. Now they are off! 

 Away they go one, two, three, six and now a 

 dozen and more. There roll also some of the eggs, 

 upset in the hurry of leaving. Smash they fall 

 on to the rock, or splash into the water far down 

 below ! The sedate-looking Razor-bills are wiser, 

 and, scattered here and there, sit undisturbed. 



We next notice the Puffins, their curious cry 

 (Awe ! awe ! ) attracting attention. Very handsome, 

 too, they look, white, black, and orange ; and sociable, 

 quaint little fellows they are, nesting within six feet of 

 the lighthouse buildings in the crevices of the parapet 

 walls. We follow the zigzag path ; here is another 

 cave alive with Kittiwakes ; a little distance are 



