88 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
and McIntosh were left alone. When after three days the storm 
abated, McIntosh, who had remained at the steering-oar, found 
Bain dead in the bow of the boat, and fearing that he would not 
be able to restrain the pangs of hunger, the brave fellow to avoid 
temptation (a noble example to all future skippers of “‘ Mignon- 
ettes’’) threw his dead comrade overboard, and after drifting about 
in a helpless and semi-conscious condition was, on the fourteenth 
day after leaving the ship, picked up by a shark-fishing vessel and 
conveyed to Iceland, the only survivor of the boat’s crew; there 
both his legs had to be amputated. Happily such disasters are 
of rare occurrence, and in this instance I fear the result must be 
attributed to the unsuitableness of the vessel and the inexperience 
of her crew. 
In the pages of ‘The Zoologist’ for September, October, and 
November, 1884, will be found a very interesting account by Mr. 
A. Heneage Cocks, F.Z.8., of the Finwhale fishery on the coast 
of Finmark, an industry which is assuming considerable im- 
portance. 
TWO DAYS IN THE COMERAGH MOUNTAINS. 
By R. J. UssHEr. 
On April 30th, 1883, having climbed an exceedingly steep 
spur, we got at length above the lofty range of cliffs that overlook 
the eastern half of the County Waterford, and parts of Wexford 
and Kilkenny. Here was an eyrie where a Peregrine had reared 
her brood successfully the previous year. It was a shelf of rock 
beneath an overhanging mass, with a precipice below it. I 
descended with a rope, but, with the exception of bones left by 
the birds the year before, and a quantity of London Pride grows 
plentifully on the Comeragh Mountains, now growing on it, I 
found it empty. We saw no Peregrines there that day, but three 
Kestrels, one of which I watched alight at a fissure near the 
Peregrine’s breeding-shelf, and found that two or three hollows 
had been scratched by these birds in the earth within the fissure. 
Not far from the Peregrine’s eyrie is a ‘‘castle” or spur of rock, 
where in 1882 I found her plucking-place, with feathers of a 
Corn Crake. 
Farther north a tremendous castle or tower of rock projects 
from the rest of the cliffs. This has evidently been the haunt of 
