182 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 10-No. 12 



or of a raging storm. At last we reached the top 

 of the mountain, where two Falcons that had been 

 soaring over our heads swooped down lilie arrows 

 into the swimming mass ; each seized an Auk in 

 its claws, and then rose slowly toward the clouds. 

 But tlie sea extended its wide, dark blue, bare sur- 

 face before the eye, for the white swarm of birds 

 liad disappeared, having dived down beneath tlie 

 protecting waves. After one or two minutes one 

 arose, then a second, and a third, and so on in 

 ([uick succession, and, as they thus gradually ap- 

 licarcd on the surface, they looked like flecks of 

 white foam. AVitli marvelous rapidity the little 

 dots increased, till soon it was only here and there 

 tliat a strip of water could be seen. The screech- 

 ing began anew, and the birds arose again from 

 tlic water and moved toward the heights. We had 

 sat down; tlie rustling, like that of the surf, and 

 tlie monotonous cry of the birds, had lulled us 

 gradually into a deep sleep. Wlien we awoke 

 and opened our eyes we could have believed tliat 

 \vc were transported into a fair}- land. In num- 

 liers like the sand on the sea-shore, the Auks were 

 siiuatting at our feet and down to the edge of the 

 water, and curiously looking at us. We were the 

 giants of the fairy story ; they were the dwarfs, 

 who dwelt in the secret caves of the mounUiin. 

 The millions were there, if one could judge by the 

 eye alone, but it is probable that, on an exact 

 count, they would be many thousands short. 



The Auk lives a life of strict monogamy. It is 

 to his beloved old wife, the flame of his youth, that 

 lie gives his attentions on every returning Spring. 

 Tlie old Auk is a constant, loving spouse, a pattern 

 of a husband, and it is really a pity that tlie nu- 

 merical relation of the sexes is such that not every 

 young male can mate himself, and many are com- 

 pelled to wander through life in compulsory 

 bachelorhood. Particularly painful is the condi- 

 tion of the solitary one when the pairs go to tlie 

 mountain in the Spring. What shall he do? 

 Shall he alone or with other morose companions 

 wear out hislife on the high sea? No, that would 

 be suicide. He follows the bridal trains to the 

 mainland and has at least a happj- company 

 around him, and may always hope that one of the 

 males may perish, and he then in some possible 

 way find favor in the eyes of the widow. The 

 Auks return every year to their old nests, which 

 they readily distinguish, and the young, newly 

 mated pairs build themselves new nests, or take 

 possession of old ones whose owners have gone 

 the way of all flesh. The male keeps watch at the 

 entrance, while the female sets the house in order 

 and lays her single egg, which is sat upon for 

 about three weeks and a half. The female sits 

 twenty-one hours a day, and the male ought to sit 



three hours, but he never does it, at least not in 

 the beginning. As soon as the female goes away 

 he rushes after her in a spasm of jealousy, for the 

 young fellows are lurking around in all the cor- 

 ners and at all points. But this neglect of duty 

 by the house-tyrant brings no harm to the egg. 

 The nearest j'oung fellow nimbly slips into the 

 nest, and keeps the egg suitably warm till the 

 mother returns. Shall he not al.so have a little 

 satisfaction when the others are sipping the joys 

 of life in full draughts ? There are no orphans 

 among the Auks. If a pair happen to die, the 

 young fellows will hatch the egg out, or, if the 

 chick is already hatched, they will take care of it. 

 The early instruction of the chick is a matter of 

 patience, time and trouble. As soon as it is dry, 

 the parents take it to a cliff by the sea-shore and 

 spring down, while the young one remains stand- 

 ing above and not knowing what to do in his help- 

 less condition. The old ones call, but he does not 

 follow, for he is afraid of the leap and of the 

 strange element. Father and mother repeat the 

 leap again and again, and encourage the timid 

 one. The young bird follows at last, not ventur- 

 ing upon the leap, but in a kind of desperate 

 mood letting himself fall. As soon as he has 

 touched the swinging wave he feels at home, and 

 begins to swim bravely, the parent keeping by 

 him, so as to give him rest on their backs when 

 he is tired. 



A quite different spectacle is presented by those 

 mountains which are principally inhabited by a 

 peculiar species of Gull. To observe one of them 

 I made a special excursion into Lapland. I had 

 at the time a design of writing a book on the life 

 of birds, and had read in some work about Three- 

 toed Gulls that nested in the bird-mountains in 

 such multitudes "that they darkened the sun when 

 they rose, completely covered the mountain when 

 they sat down upon it, deafened the ears when 

 they screeched, and turned the verdure-clad rocks 

 white where they were sitting." There are only 

 three such mountains known — one in Lapland, 

 one in Iceland, and one in Greenland. The one 

 in Lapland, which is much the most remarkable, 

 lies out of the course of the steamer, and we were 

 therefore obliged to charter a special boat to reach 

 it. A storm compelled us to go into a harbor of 

 refuge. When the tempest had abated, about 

 midnight, we continued our voyage. The waves 

 were still high, and single Gulls shot before and 

 around us like dazzling white flashes. All at 

 once, at Cape Svaerholm, not far from the North 

 Strait, there rose before us a great black cliff. It 

 looked like a large marble table covered with 

 millions of little white points that shone like stars. 

 We fired a shot at them, when, as soon as the re- 



