Hick: A Ramble in the Isle of Lindisfarne. 217 
Seals, perhaps coming to the very place where I was, the only 
inlet of any size among the rocks? I waited patiently as long 
as I could, but they did not come any nearer—scented danger, 
perhaps, as I descried a shooter behind a rock ahead. A move- 
ment among the tufts of Zamznaria just beyond the rocks, 
warned me to retrace my steps, as the tides are very treacherous 
n these shores. Wandering onwards, I came to the lo 
stretch of sands of the Salmon Fisheries, passing on my way 
a small bay, from the soft rocks of which, at low tide, in winter, 
large Encrinites can be taken. In the summer and autumn 
the thick growth of sea-weed obscures them. I found a piece 
of rock with numerous small Encrinites embedded in it. 
There are few shells to be found on these sands, only many- 
banded snail shells among the sandhills. ut I was well 
rewarded by the birds. Flocks of gulls were flying about the 
sea, now darting above the waves, now walking with a 
curious bobbing motion on the shore. The wailing cry of 
the Curlew made me feel lonely for the first time that day. 
Flocks of Stints rose up from the sand, and whirled away 
in little streaks of silver to settle farther on. How glad I was 
no shooters were there to mar the quiet beauty of the scene! 
But lo! a puff of smoke and a flash from behind a rock, and 
a beautiful Eider Duck lay dead on the sand; and two or three 
with their wings shattered were swimming out to sea as fast as 
they could. Flocks of the Teal, Wigeon, and Knot flew over 
_ My head and away across the sea. They had but lately arrived 
on our shores, I suppose, for their annual visit. They receive 
a warmer welcome in Holy Island, at any rate, on their arrival 
than they probably expect. For they are blazed at all round the 
island, from behind rocks and from boats. Some sportsmen (?) 
chopped onions over-night, I was told. have not tried the 
recipe, so cannot recommend it as infallible. The Solan Goose 
I was given by one of the shooters was a splendid bird, and I 
secured a capital skin and wings. How curious the quills look 
pushing their way through the skin at the back! I found an 
Angler Fish dead on the shore. Peter, the fisherman, called it 
July 1898. 
an Angel Fish, but some people, he said, called it the ‘ Devil 
