On Crag and Sea-cliff. 247 



neck, or a stab from the formidable beak will reward 

 the would-be captor's rashness. The nests are made 

 almost anywhere at the top of the cliffs amidst the 

 broken rocks and crags, lower down the cliffs where 

 any ordinary climber can reach them, and, most 

 numerously of all, on the ledges far below which are 

 only accessible with the aid of a rope. To say the 

 least, the nest is not a very attractive one; it is often 

 trodden out of all semblance to such a structure, and 

 frequently covered with droppings and slime, whilst 

 around it are dead and decaying fish, many of them 

 disgorged when partly digested. The hot sun soon 

 completes the work of decomposition, and generates 

 a fearsome stench which it requires all the fortitude 

 of an enthusiastic ornithologist to tolerate. The 

 nests are made of sea-weed, turf, straws, and scraps 

 of moss, the soil from the turf being trampled into a 

 mortar-like mass and binding the whole together. 

 In a shallow cavity at the top of this cone-like 

 structure a single egg is laid, originally white coated 

 thickly with lime, but soon becoming stained into a 

 rich brown from contact with the big webbed feet of 

 the parent birds. Numbers of nests in some spots 

 are crowded together, often so closely that the cliff 

 is literally white with sitting birds. The noise is 

 deafening. The Gannets in the air are quiet enough, 

 gliding to and fro in a bewildering throng, but the 

 birds on the cliffs and the grassy downs at the 



