220 REPORT OP MEETINGS FOR 1902 



of this wild group of isles is that of the devotion of Grace 

 Darling, whose father was keeper of the lighthouse on the 

 Longstone, and from whose heroism levellers have in vain 

 attempted to detract. So that, few as their inhabitants all 

 told have been, the Fames can boast a light of either sex. 

 It is not, however, with humanity, but with those to whom 

 humanity is a thing entirely indifferent, that I have here 

 to do. 



It is well known that the Fame Islands are principal stations 

 of certain varieties of our sea-birds during the breeding season, 

 where it is good to know that they are now protected against 

 the murderous outrages heretofore sometimes practised upon 

 them. In a fine summer, from May to August, what naturalist 

 but would be attracted by the thought of enlisting as a watcher 

 on behalf of the lessees of these rocks? True, the up-putting 

 would be rough, the prospect limited, the society severely 

 restricted. Supplies are brought off from the mainland once 

 a week. On the other hand, the work is not heavy. It is 

 principally night work ; for the fishermen, who are the chief 

 would-be marauders, seek the covert of night for their attempts 

 to effect a landing and to carry off eggs. Conscious, however, 

 that the conspicuous marking on their boats is a witness 

 against them, they will generally sheer off quickly upon the 

 first alarm. So that the wakeful watcher is spared all trouble 

 in taking action, his mere presence sufficing to effect the object 

 desired. More reckless visitors, though not unknown, are of 

 but rare occurrence. 



During daylight, line-fishing from a boat and the setting 

 of crab-traps are pastimes ready to the watchman's hand. 

 You observe that I do not venture so far to outrage realism 

 as to figure him as some Gilliat of a natural, heaven-inspired 

 poet? No; for him the lapping waters and the beating 

 sunshine are the said things, "and nothing more." He 

 remains unsentimental, though the white flowers of the campion 

 luxuriate in the desert waste. When a sudden condensation 

 of the atmosphere cuts him off by double isolation — blindness 

 superadded to the estranging wave — he thinks of it as "sea 

 fret " ; that is all. But he can scarcely continue long amid 

 present surroundings without becoming interested in the birds, 

 the object of his guardianship. 



