434 BRITISH BIRDS. 



the men are expert climbers and fowlers, for the birds that breed on their 

 islands are almost the only source of their wealth. On one occasion we 

 climbed down to a grassy platform where several Fulmars were sitting on 

 their nests. When within about ten feet of them, he slowly passed a long 

 rod, at the end of which was a horsehair noose, quietly towards one of the 

 birds, and then deftly placed the fatal noose over its head and drew the 

 fluttering captive towards him. Another and another were secured in the 

 same way and the eggs taken. Soon after their capture they vomited a 

 large amount of amber-coloured oil; most of it came from the mouth, 

 but a little came through the nostrils, especially when the poor bird was 

 dying. During the Fulmar harvest in autumn the birds, when caught, 

 are made to vomit this oil into dried gullets of the Gannet, which the 

 fowler carries round his waist. We repeatedly saw great numbers of 

 Fulmars sitting on the water ; and Donald told me that the bird often 

 dives, but does not stay down long. He said, in proof of his asser- 

 tion, that the bird often takes the bait from the long lines. He also told 

 me that whale-blubber was the Fulmar's favourite food ; and I found that 

 its stomach always contained an oily mass mixed with sorrel, which it pro- 

 bably takes to relieve the fatty nature of its other food. 



" I steamed round the islands of the St.-Kilda group on the 14th of June, 

 in the ' Dunara Castle/ a gun being fired several times to frighten the birds 

 from the cliffs. The scene which ensued after the report had echoed amongst 

 the rocks beggars all description. The myriads of birds were past all belief; 

 the air was darkened with their numbers ; still the cliffs were white 

 with birds, and I calculated that not more than one in ten had risen. The 

 Fulmars filled the air like large snowflakes, and the hordes of Puffins 

 looked like a huge swarm of bees darkening the air as far as we could 

 see. Myriads of birds swept round the vessel or filled the air above; 

 the face of the cliffs seemed crumbling away as the living masses swept 

 seawards ; yet, singularly enough, little noise was made beyond the hum- 

 ming of countless wings. The mighty peaks of these solitary ocean rocks 

 were indistinctly seen through the surging cloud of birds that seemed 

 almost as if it would descend and overwhelm us. Then as we passed the 

 stacks of Borreay the Gannets were disturbed from their nests. Still the 

 green parts of the cliffs were white with sitting Fulmars, still the birds 

 kept pouring from the rocks, going out to sea, and making way for new 

 comers crowding up at every moment. It is curious how the Fulmars 

 keep to themselves, seldom congregating with other species. Tens of 

 thousands of Puffins, however, share the cliffs with them, and lower 

 down, near the water, Kittiwakes cluster on every bit of vantage ground, 

 and Guillemots and Razorbills, in endless rows, stand, sentinel-like, on 

 every convenient ledge. No place in the world can excel St. Kilda as a 



