440 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



The "dimmer" now stands astride of this fixed rope, which 

 is called the " hand-rope," and grasping it in his hands, leans 

 well hack and walks backwards over the cliff, sticking his toes 

 against any projections which appear. His companions, who have 

 seated themselves behind one another on the cliff-top, with the 

 "guide-rope" (the one fixed to his breeches) carefully coiled 

 beside them, paj'ing it out as he goes down. The one nearest the 

 edge wears a broad leather band round his body to prevent the 

 friction of the guide-rope (which runs round his body and through 

 his hands) becoming painful. 



A bank of earth from two to four feet in height is thrown up 

 neai- the cliff, to prevent cattle straying over. Beyond this is a 

 footpath, and between this path and the extreme edge of the cliff 

 is a steep grassy slope, like a house-roof, so that it is impossible 

 to lie down and look over, and care has to be taken not to shoot off. 

 While the " dimmer" is being lowered the rope is allowed to run 

 out along this slope, the friction retarding too rapid a descent, 

 and thus helping the men at the top. When the man below has 

 gathered as many eggs as he can reach, he jerks once upon the 

 rope fastened to him, and as the other end is held by his com- 

 panions they feel it at once, and draw him up, he all the time 

 aiding himself with hands and feet in mounting upwards. The 

 signalling is done by jerking the rope ; thus one jerk means 

 " pull up," three " more hand-rope," &c. 



As the "dimmer" went down we walked to where the cliff 

 jutted out a little, and as he was in a curve of the cliff we had a 

 good view of his proceedings. This is the only way by which a 

 proper view can be obtained. Down he went at a fair speed, 

 every now and then striking his feet against the face of the cliff, 

 and in his rebound gliding down the hand-rope a considerable 

 distance. Proceeding lower still, he grew rapidly less to sight 

 until he was perhaps two hundred feet down, when he stopped, 

 and began to pick (to us) invisible objects from the ledges and 

 put them in his bag ; with an opera-glass we could see they were 

 eggs, the birds — which seemed mere specks — flying round him in 

 hundreds, the sea below being dotted with their numbers. Now 

 and again a bird would rise as high as the top of the cliff, and 

 skim past us, twisting its head about in an anxious manner. The 

 Guillemots, by far the most numerous species, kept crying in a 

 harsh croaking voice, "or — r — r"; the Ringed Guillemots and 



