FRAGMENTS FROM THE SEASHORE. 233 



this old goat traversed and live to tell the tale. 

 His wonderful display of skill and courage made 

 me half forgive him for the destruction of my 

 photographic hopes. 



Fixing up my apparatus, I commenced to 

 make studies of such few kittiwakes as had had 

 the temerity to remain on their nests, when my 

 attention was suddenly arrested by the clatter 

 of a stone against the face of the rock upon 

 which the birds were breeding. My indignation 

 may be better imagined than described when I 

 discovered that the two visitors were engaged in 

 hurling stones at the innocent and defenceless 

 creatures which at their end of the jutting piece 

 of rock on which we stood were not more than 

 seven or eight yards away. Before I could stop 

 them, the inhuman young rascals struck a devoted 

 guillemot sitting on her egg with a stone as large 

 as a man's fist, and she rolled off the ledge and 

 went twirling a disordered bundle of feathers 

 down, down, hundreds of feet into the sea below. 

 This made my blood boil with indignation, and 

 I lashed out in language which was very much 

 more forcible than polite. 



One poor guillemot had a baby chick, which 

 she was cuddling and guarding in the most 

 affectionate manner between her legs, and when 

 the shower of stones compelled her to leave it, 

 her look was pitiful in the extreme. 



