84 



THE YOUNG OOLOGIST. 



A Day Among the Sea Birds of Maine. 



On the fifteenth of June last a couple of 

 friends and myself started in a carriage for 

 Seal Harbor to see a fisherman and local 

 taxidermist, whom we had engaged to 

 take us out to the islands. It was a glori- 

 ous day, and after our hour and a half 

 ride through the most beautiful section of 

 Maine, we arrived at the harbor (ab(fut 8 

 A. m). We immediately started for Little 

 Green, an Island about eight miles out to 

 sea, where the terns and petrels nest. 

 After rowing about a mile past the granite 

 quarries of Sprice and White Heads and vis- 

 iting an old deserted herony, a row necessa- 

 ry on account of the strong ebb tide, we 

 hoisted sail and the wherry just scudded 

 for the open sea. R. entertained us with 

 stories of his trips after water-fowl and 

 pointed out the different ledges where they 

 most congregate in Winter. His stories 

 held our close attention and so did some 

 thing else not so pleasant, viz. , rowing, for 

 our breeze died away and left us with 

 three miles of heavy pulling. When 

 about a quarter of a mile from the Island 

 the Terns arose in clouds, hovering over 

 the island, and filling the air with their 

 discordant shrieks, cree-cree-cree-e-e, and 

 the Laughing Gull mocked us from his 

 safe-elevation with hoarse ha-Tia-hah's, at a 

 nearer approach the Sea Pigeons left their 

 nests, skimmed over the surface of the 

 water, a safe distance and there in pairs, 

 calmly floating on the water watched our 

 movements, then a Raven startled from his 

 feast of eggs, flew into the air, uttering his 

 harsh cry, but he was not the beautiful, 

 glossy, black Raven which is reallj'' a 

 handsome bird, for alas, his plumage had 

 become soiled, dirty, brown and torn, 

 many of his wing feathers were gone, and 

 his flight was feeble, the reason was evi- 

 dent for the moment he rose into the air 

 the whole cloud of Mods, rushed after him. 

 Poor bird, he could only scream, flap his 

 wings and try to escape. After we had 

 landed we saw him several times far away 

 with his crowd of Meds. about him trj^- 

 ing in vain to escape. But now Ave turned 



our attention to collecting eggs; first, we 

 went for the Terns, these we collected in 

 our hats, and as a consequence mine was a 

 little the worse afterward. On Little 

 Green the Terns, although many build 

 on the ground, generallj^ lay on the bare 

 ledges where the sun is liot, and on the 

 pebbles of the beach, where the eggs easily 

 escape detection ; sometimes the nest will 

 be well formed in the sand, oi' a bimch of 

 sea-weed will hold the eggs, but generally 

 no attempt at a nest is made, and the eggs 

 are quite often dropped below high-vvHter 

 mark. But on Fisherman's Island, they 

 generally build a nest, which is a hollow 

 in the ground, lined with coarse weeds, 

 and generally contains three eggs, some- 

 times four. In a short time we had ob- 

 tained all the eggs we wanted, and after 

 eating our dinner, turned our attention to 

 the Petrels. We hunted around and found 

 some old tree trunks which had lain for 

 years, until they had settled deep into the 

 gi-ound. These we overturned for the Pet- 

 trels' nests, the Petrel digs a furrow a 

 foot or two deep beneath some old tree or 

 ledge, hollows out the extremity, makes a 

 rude nest, and deposits one egg only, one 

 pure white egg. somewhat resembling a 

 pigeon's, rounded at both ends and some- 

 times having fine flesh tinted dots arranged 

 about the larger end. Under some trees 

 we found several nests, and the birds were 

 always at home. This necesitated the 

 unpleasant part of collecting. They could 

 not be driven from their nests, and so we 

 took them by the tail and tossed them into 

 the air, whereupon they took wing and 

 flew away, but many, like Bo-Peep's 

 sheep, "left their tails behind them," In 

 my eagerness to get one off the nest I 

 seized it by the head, but I dropped him 

 quick, for the creature did what R. warned 

 us against, used its weapon of defense, 

 squirted into my hand a thimble full of oily 

 liquid, which had a most disgusting, sick- 

 ening odor, secondly, if second, to that of 

 the skunk. This musky odor is almost 

 impossible to be removed, the eggs emit it, 

 and those which I collected on that day 

 still retain it. The oil Issues from the nos- 



