28 A BIRD COLLECTOR'S MEDLEY. 



behind as we were crawling across the field, saw us, gave one croak apiece, 

 and flew straight back to the sea. 



The best portion of the cliffs for sea fowl was that around Kynance Cove. 

 Herring Gulls and Lesser Black-backs bred plentifully on an insulated rock 

 shut off from the main-land by a deep but narrow gorge, and from the rocks 

 on the land side one could watch in comfort the domestic life of its inhabitants. 

 Straight opposite, a Shag flew out from a nest with young, the naked, sooty 

 forms of the nestlings being plainly visible across the dividing chasm. Higher 

 up towards the summit of the rock there was a strip of crumbling soil, which 

 was much affected by the youthful Gulls. Several had left the nest, but were 

 as yet unable to fly, and they hunched about in true Gull fashion, uttering a 

 persistent and dismal whistle as they did so, while others practised the art of 

 flying by leaping downwards from rock to rock. Once I became the witness 

 of a tug of war between two of their parents. A bird had just arrived with a 

 fish in its beak, which it was preparing to distribute to its young. Suddenly 

 another Gull, either a pirate by nature, or one whose moral sense was under- 

 mined by the arduous task of supporting so voracious a family, saw a short 

 way to providing them with a meal. As the triumphant fisher passed, it shot 

 forth its beak and laid firmly hold of the projecting portion of the fish. The 

 struggle that ensued was very different to what I expected. There were no 

 wild jerks or side rushes. The combatants solemnly secured a reliable foot- 

 hold, and then proceeded to settle matters by a steady pull. I regret now that 

 I did not time them from the start, for the tug must have lasted two minutes 

 at the least. At times, by mutual consent, they seemed to relax the strain and 

 secure fresh footholds, and then they went grimly on, apparently unnoticed by 

 the other Gulls. The finish was, I must confess, rather tame one of them, 

 the would-be robber, gave up quite suddenly without any final effort that I 

 could see, and without making any attempt to secure a fresh hold of the fish, 

 which the victor then distributed without further molestation to its young. 



Towards evening the Gulls from the inland fields would flight over the 

 cliffs to the island in a steady stream, and anyone who hid behind one of the 

 numerous scattered boulders could easily get a specimen of an adult Herring 

 Gull, but the Black-backs were much more wary, and for the most part kept 

 well out to sea. We badly wanted a Shag, and as the sea was too rough for 

 a visit to the Stag Rocks, which are crowded with them, our only chance was 

 to get one at Kynance Cove. On the last evening we went there, having 

 previously noticed that the birds are given to circling round the so-called 

 Asparagus Island. This picturesque rock is even at high tide united to the 

 mainland by a strip of sand. When we commenced operations it was about 



