260 THE FOWLER IN IRELAND. 



The plunderers will then either stick their bills into 

 the eggs and fly off with them or suck them on the 

 spot. 



A few steps farther and we hear " Took-a-hoo ! 

 Took-a-hoo ! " coming from under our very feet. 

 Here is a hole, and we find inside the author of the 

 peculiar cuckoo-like cry to be a Manx Shearwater. 

 See the beautifully white egg ! There is another bird 

 crouched inside the hole the male. He came last 

 night on a visit to his mate to evince his affection 

 and bring food. Sunlight overtook him, and, as his 

 species do not leave their retreats by day, he will 

 now remain till dark. 



At last we reach the " cells "- peculiar buildings 

 of beehive shape inhabited many centuries ago by 

 monks. There are eight of them, and the ruins of 

 a chapel adjoining. There also are numerous ancient 

 graves and mounds, the latter propped round with 

 upright slabs of stone, the inside filled with earth 

 to a level with their tops, and studded with 

 gravestones of rude form rough slabs, cut cruci- 

 form by the aid of other stones. The largest and 

 most prominent is supposed to be that of a Bishop.' 

 The beehive cells are built of dry stones (i.e., with- 

 out mortar), and so close and accurately are they 

 fitted, that from the inside daylight cannot be seen 

 through at any part. One of the cells is now used 

 as a chapel. On a rough altar is a skull (said to be 

 the Bishop's). Those performing penance drink out 

 pf it from a holy well of brackish water nigh at hand. 

 A very fine Irish cross was removed from here, 

 which piece of Vandalism lives unforgiven in the 

 memory of the people of the district. A gold cross 



