The Zoologist — June, 1873, 3569 



in unmistakable accents ; but there was no occasion for the ex- 

 planations to the latter, " Unfinished," and " Her Majesty has not 

 sat for the likeness ;" it is no likeness at all : as for Tracker, a very- 

 crude sketch of a collie, I can only lament it should be left in so 

 unfinished a condition. There is something extremely pleasing in 

 the white palfrey on which the lady is sitting : grace and gentleness 

 are happily combined. 



I doubt whether Mr. Hook's Ornithology is so good as his 

 painting; the former is borrowed, the latter his own. A boy is 

 represented with a knife tied to the end of a stick, and holding up 

 this curious instrument for a gull to transfix himself on, while a 

 second boy is engaged taking the eggs of the gull from a very 

 dangerous situation near the top of a cliff: a girl is holding the 

 second boy by the legs to prevent his falling into the deep green 

 sea, far, far beneath. The picture (No. 254) is called The Bonxie, 

 and when I say it is exquisitely painted I am merely saying it is 

 Mr. Hook's. Mr. Hook has selected from Bewick's 'Birds' the 

 following passage to illustrate the scene : — 



" It is, however, well ascertained that they [the skua gulls] are uncom- 

 monly courageous in defence of their own young, and that they seize, with 

 the utmost vengeance, upon any animal, whether man or beast, that offers 

 to disturb their nests ; and it is said also that they sometimes attack the 

 shepherds even when they are watching their flocks upon the hills, who are 

 obliged, in their own defence, to guard their heads, and to ward off the blows 

 of the assailants by holding a pointed stick towards them, against which 

 they sometimes dash with such force as to be killed on the spot. In like 

 manner they who are about to rob their nests, hold a knife, or other sharp 

 instrument, over their heads, upon which the enraged bird precipitates and 

 transfixes itself."— Vol. ii. pp. 211 (1816). 



Whether Bewick has suflBcient authority for this passage may 

 perhaps be doubted, but the plan or tradition, whichever it may be, 

 of allowing birds to transfix themselves, is much older than the 

 time of our illustrious wood-engraver. In a volume published at 

 Rome in 1622, and intituled ' Oliria (Giov. Pietro) Uccellaria, overo 

 discorso della imtura e proprieta de diversi Uccelli,^ is an engraving 

 (eight inches by six) of birds impaling themselves in this manner, 

 and lettered thus : — " Del colomhaccio e sua coccia.^'' In the left- 

 hand upper corner you see pigeons transfixing themselves until 

 the spikes are filled, while others, with closed wings, are dropping 

 down headlong, as though disappointed that there were no more 



