The Zoologist — Novkmber, 1871. 2843 



ubiquitous Meserabryanthemum lines the walls of the buvial-giound 

 around, and several aloes had been planted within its precincts, 

 which in a few years will prove a great ornament. 



While traversing the islands, I noticed, on Agnes, part of a 

 sugar-cane and cocoa-nut that had, no doubt, been washed ashore, 

 as well as numerous ship-timbers on Aunet : one in particular was 

 completely honeycombed by the Teredo. I also came across, in 

 one or two places, sheep's bones aud old limpets covered with the 

 common orange lichen, either Lichen parietinus or L. Murorum : 

 I never noticed this growing on animal remains before, but every- 

 thing may come to pass, as Herodotus long ago remarked, in course 

 of time, and they had probably lain there for many a year. 



When on Agnes I paid a visit to its lighthouse, which is well 

 worth inspection, commanding a beautiful view, and containing 

 oil suflBcient for a year's consumption and a revolving light con- 

 sisting of thirty bright silver reflectors, costing sixty pounds each. 

 It was on the roclis of this island that I first came across tufts of a 

 species of yellow lichen, new to me, and of which I have not yet 

 been able to ascertain the naaie. 



North of Annet is a picturesque ridge termed the Haycocks, 

 from its shape when viewed some distance out at sea. Its eastern 

 portion, named Gugh, is united to the rest of the island by a 

 narrow neck of sand, over which, at spring tide, a sea washes of 

 depth suflBcient to iloat a boat. 



It was with feelings of great pleasure that I stood on the western- 

 most point of St. Agnes, itself the most westerly isle, with the 

 exception of Annet, of this occidental group. The sun was fast 

 setting, and darting its rays through a mass of inky black cloud 

 over the broad Atlantic, and before me lay what are popularly 

 known as the western isles, but are, in fact, only masses and ridges 

 of rock, not unfi'equently the resort of numerous seals, and on 

 which many a bark has been wrecked : it was on the southernmost 

 of these, termed the Gilslone, that the fleet of the ill-fated Sir 

 Clondesley Shovel struck, on which occasion two thousand persons 

 perished : in full view, two miles due west, was the lighthouse 

 known as the Bishop. A storm in winter oflf this coast must be a 

 sight indeed at once terrific and sublime. Huge rocks and boulders 

 of granite, from the fantastic and singular shape they wore, and the 

 manner in which they were piled and tossed one on the top of the 

 other, and swathed with long streamers of gray lichen, depending 



