6972 Birds. 



front of the several sea-fowl nurseries of Troup, I beheld scenes truly 

 magnificent, — scenes which could not have failed to create feelings of 

 the deepest interest, in a mind capable of appreciating the sublime 

 and beautiful workings of Nature. Having landed at the most famed 

 of these nurseries, in order to view the scene with advantage, — here, 

 I thought, as I gazed at the white towering cliffs, which had laughed 

 to scorn the angriest scowl of the most mighty wave that ever spent 

 its fury against their base, and defied^ the stormiest blast from the 

 icy North ; where the largest gull in its mid-way flight appears no 

 larger than the smallest of its kind ; where the falcon breeds beside 

 and in perfect harmony with the other inhabitants of the rocky cliffs; 

 where multitudes of birds, of various forms and hues, from the snowy 

 whiteness of the kittiwake to the sable dye of the croaking raven, have 

 found a resting-place whereon to build their nests and deposit their 

 eggs, — here, I thought, as I was about to leave the busy throng, 

 even here, man, the noblest, although too often degrading himself far 

 beneath the lowest of all animals, might learn lessons of industry and 

 affection from these humble monitors of Nature. Though thus un- 

 successful myself, I had only returned home a day when I had the 

 pleasure of having one sent me by a friend whom 1 had asked to 

 keep a look-out for it. I have procured several since, both in winter 

 and summer ; I have also been shown places in the cliffs where the 

 fishermen say they know them now to breed. 



Little Auk {Alca alle). A winter visitor. In December, 1846, a 

 terrific sea-storm raged here for the greater part of the month ; at its 

 termination I counted between the Burn of Boyne and Greenside of 

 Gamrie, a distance of about nine miles, nearly sixty of these little 

 birds lying dead, besides a number of guillemots and razorbills. 

 Great numbers were also found dead in the fields throughout the 

 county. It is a grand sight to see one of these diminutive but 

 intrepid creatures manoeuvring with the impetuous billows of a 

 stormy sea. Wave follows wave in rapid succession, bearing destruc- 

 tion to everything within reach ; but the little auk, by Nature taught, 

 avoids the threatened danger, either by mounting above the waves 

 or by going between them, reappearing unhurt as they spend their 

 fury on the unoffending shore. It has disappeared, and is nowhere 

 to be seen. The eye wanders in vain amongst the turbulent surge, to 

 catch another sight of the httle sailor bird ; and one unacquainted 

 with such a scene would be apt to exclaim, " Poor little thing, it is 

 killed, and buried amongst the foam." Patience, my friend, I would 

 say. Look again. See, it is there once more, as lively as ever, and 



