210 OUR ARCTIC PROVINCE. 



The author of that quaint old saying, "Birds of a feather flock 

 together," might well have gained his inspiration had he stood 

 under the high bluffs of St. George at any season, prehistoric or 

 present, during the breeding of the water-birds there, where 

 myriads of croaking murres and flocks of screaming gulls darken 

 the light of day with their fluttering forms, and deafen the ear with 

 their shrill, harsh cries as they do now, for music is denied to all 

 those birds of the sea. Still, in spite of the apparent confusion, he 

 would have taken cognizance of the fact that each species had its 

 particular location and kept to its own boundary, according to the 

 precision of natural law. The dreary expanse and lonely solitudes 

 of the North owe their chief enlivenment, and their principal attrac- 

 tiveness for man, to the presence of those vast flocks of circumbo- 

 real water-fowl, which repair thither annually. 



Over fifteen miles of the bold, basaltic, bluff line of St. George 

 Island is fairly covered with nesting gulls (Eissa) and "arries" 

 ( Uria), while down in the countless chinks and holes over the en- 

 tire surface of the north side of this island millions of " chooch- 

 kies " (Simorhyncus microceros) breed, filling the air and darkening 

 the light of day with their cries and fluttering forms. On Walrus 

 Islet the nests of the great white gull of the north (Larus glaucus) 

 can be visited and inspected, as well as those of the sea-parrot or 

 puffin (Fratercula), shags or cormorants (Graculus), and the red- 

 legged kittiwake (Larus brevirostris). These birds are accessible 

 on every side, can be reached, and afford the observer an unequalled 

 opportunity of taking due notice of them through the breeding- 

 season of their own, as it begins in May and continues until the 

 end of September. 



Not one of the water-birds found on and around the islands is 

 exempted from a place in the native's larder ; even the delectable 

 " oreelie " are unhesitatingly eaten by the people, and indeed these 

 birds furnish, during the winter season in especial, an almost cer- 

 tain source of supply for fresh meat. But the heart of the Aleut 

 swells to its greatest gastronomic happiness when he can repair, in 

 the months of June and July, to the basaltic cliffs of St. George, or 

 the lava table-bed of Walrus Islet, and lay his grimy hands on 

 the gayly-colored eggs of the "arrie" (Lomvia arm) ; and if he 

 were not the most improvident of men, instead of taking only 

 enough for the day, he would lay up a great store for the morrow, 

 but he never does. On the occasion of one visit, and my first one 



