Wanderings of a Naturalist 



heard the first storm petrel calling from the interior of a low 

 half-ruined wall. We discovered the bird after some diffi- 

 culty, but found that it had not laid as yet. That evening- 

 was dull and quiet, and after having walked to the far end of 

 the island in order to erect a hiding-tent near the nest of a 

 great black-backed gull, we returned at dusk to where we had 

 located the petrel in the afternoon. By now several pairs of 

 the birds were calling from among the stones, so we sat 

 quietly in the neighbourhood till past midnight (British 

 summer time). 



The mating note of the storm petrel, for this I believe the 

 calls to be, is a curious and fascinating purring sound, com- 

 menced in a very low key, and rising gradually until the final 

 note, which is high-pitched, the whole song being uttered 

 without pause. It is impossible to render it into words, but 

 once heard it can never be forgotten. The bird continues this 

 song over and over again quite undisturbed, even when one 

 is standing immediately over it, but when the stones above 

 it are moved, it quickly becomes silent, and once alarmed does 

 not readily re-commence its song. One individual repeated 

 its "purring " without a pause for over an hour, at the end 

 of which time we left the nesting ground, with the small petrel 

 still continuing its song. 



At about ii p.m. (B.S.T.) what were probably the cocks 

 began to leave their holes and flit bat-like backwards and 

 forwards, while the hens remained to brood their eggs. Many 

 moths were on the wing, and the petrels were apparently 

 hawking them a trait in the character of this bird already 

 chronicled by Yarrell. Throughout the island the storm 

 petrels were very active on this particular night, apparently 

 liking the soft atmosphere and dull sky. At one point we 

 heard a pair, only a few feet from us, purring repeatedly as 

 though pairing. On their taking wing it was seen that they 

 had been standing on a large boulder, and this was the only 

 occasion on which we recorded them perched in the open and 

 purring as they habitually did in their holes. 



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