58 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



the peace which midnight brings even in the far North. The sea 

 was deserted; all the birds which had been fishing and diving in it 

 had flown up to the berg. There they sat wherever there was room 

 to sit in long rows of tens, of hundreds, of hundreds of thousands, 

 forming dazzling white lines as all, without exception, sat facing the 

 sea. Their ' arr ' and ' err ', which had deafened our ears notwith- 

 standing the weakness of the individual voices, were silent now, 

 and only the roar of the surf breaking on the rocks far below 

 resounded as before. Not till the sun rose again did the old be- 

 wildering bustle begin anew, and as we at length descended the hill 

 by the way we had climbed it, we were once more surrounded by a 

 thick cloud of startled birds. 



It is not because of their enormous numbers alone that the auks 

 are so fascinating; there is much that is attractive in their life and 

 habits. During the brooding time their social virtues reach an 

 extraordinary height. Till the beginning of that season they live 

 entirely on the open sea, defying the severest winter and the wildest 

 storms. Even in the long night of winter very few of them forsake 

 their northern home, but they range, in flocks of hundreds and thou- 

 sands, from one fishing-ground to another, finding all the open spaces 

 among the ice as unfailingly as they do other promising feeding- 

 grounds in the open sea. But when the sun reappears they are 

 animated by one feeling love, by one longing to reach as soon as 

 possible the hill where their own cradle stood. Then somewhere 

 about Easter-time they all set out, swimming more than flying, for 

 the bird -berg. But among the auks there are more males than 

 females, and not every male is fortunate enough to secure a wife. 

 Among other birds such a disproportion gives rise to ceaseless strife, 

 yet among these auks peace is not disturbed. The much-to-be- 

 pitied beings whom, making use of a human analogy, we may call 

 bachelors, migrate to the berg as well as the fortunate pairs, who 

 coquette and caress by the way; they fly up with these to the 

 heights and accompany them on their hunting expeditions to the 

 surrounding sea. As soon as the weather permits, the pairs begin 

 to get the old holes in order; they clear them out, deepen them, 

 enlarge their chambers, and, if necessary, hollow out a new brooding- 



