96 THE NIDOLOGIST 
Great Auks Rediscovered! 
N the famous land of Alaska! How long 
have I looked with covetous eyes upon 
this Eldorado of bird life; and now that 
I am here my wildest expectations have 
been realized. 
It was a beautiful morning in early 
summer that Bob and I found ourselves at 
the beach loading an outfit into the boat, 
bent on an exploration trip down the 
channel in search of a famous breeding 
ground of various sea birds that we had 
learned of through the Indians. 
We had caught the tide right and once 
in the stream, its swift current bore us 
rapidly to the north, giving an opportunity 
to stretch out on the blankets and take life 
easy. Gulls, Pacific Kittiwakes, Glaucous- 
winged and Short-billed, were wheeling 
about in graceful curves; great rafts of 
Scoters rose in front of the boat, hurrying 
off ina clumsy, spluttering way, to turn 
and come back on a swift, steady wing, 
their velvety-black plumage and _ vart- 
colored bill contrasting sharply with the 
green sea beneath them. Comical little 
Marbled Murrelets watch us out of their 
black eyes, ready to dive under at the least 
suspicious movement. 
We began to look for signs of the locality, 
we were in search of, soon finding a glacier 
which came down a valley to the water’s 
edge, with a foamy stream pouring over 
the edge of a cliff on a large island opposite. 
This was as the Indians had told us, so 
landing at the mouth, we made camp and 
started up alittle canyon that led to the 
top. Before we had gone far we noticed 
many Gulls, Ducks and Geese going and 
coming from above, which assured us we 
had found the right place. 
Gaining the top at last we feasted our 
eyes on a sight never to be forgotten. The 
entire country was as level as a Minnesota 
prairie, here and there lakes and marshes 
dotting the surface. Gulls rose into the 
air in clouds and started myriads of Ducks 
and Geese to quacking. 
left, rose a rough shelf of rocks which we 
could see was fairly alive with black and 
white objects that were moving slowly 
about. Onapproaching the place we found 
them to be birds, and their waddling, help- 
less sort of a gait struck us as peculiar— 
Loons, I thought. But no, they would 
never live in such a place. They must 
certainly be Great Auks! What a revela- 
On our immediate ~ 
tion. Here were birds long thought to be 
extinct. Bob, who carried the camera, 
stole a march on two old fellows sitting on 
a rock, and took their picture. Then I 
lined them up and got them both with a 
load from the shot gun. 
Picking the birds up, we noted their 
immense size and wingless condition—they 
were as large as a Goose and formed like a 
Guillemot. There was no longer any 
doubt about it now, they were the famous 
Great Auks. How Mr. Ridgway’s eyes 
would stick out when he received the pair 
we were tosend him. 
Not to lose an opportunity, we began to 
collect a few, but found we could not 
possibly carry more than half a dozen each 
back to the boat, as they were, so we sat. 
on a rock and skinned and prepared twenty 
of them. 
At the further end where the cliff was 
highest, we could see birds that were to all 
appearances sitting on eggs. The inaccess- 
able places were reached by the birds 
hopping and crawling along the narrow 
shelves and projecting bits of rock—a task 
we found impossible for us—so going back 
we gained the edge again and following it 
to the top of the cliff, looked over, and 
there, sureenough, we could see the single 
'Auks’ eggs where the parent birds were 
not covering them. 
Selecting a spot where the eggs were 
most plentiful, Bob passed the rope under 
my-arms and taking a hitch around a rock 
began to lower me over the edge. It was 
a dangerous thing to do, but the excite- 
ment of our find had made us reckless. 
Coming within reach of a bird, I signaled 
Bob to stop, and made a pass at the Auk 
with my foot, but in its haste to get out of 
the way, the poor creature made a misstep 
and went end over end to the rocks below. 
Balancing myself on a narrow shelf, I 
leaned forward for the much desired egg, 
when I felt the rope give above me and 
reeling backward I fell with an awful sen- 
sation—down, down, I went till I struck— 
the hard cabin floor! ‘‘Breakfast is ready,” 
yelled Bob, as he released my foot and 
passed into the kitchen, leaving me to 
ponder on the sad realities of life. 
GEORGE G. CANTWELL. 
Howkan, Alaska. 
-Oo+ 
“WINTER NOTES”’ in our March number should 
have been credited to C. H. Morrell, of Pittsfield, 
Maine. 
