CHAPTER XXII 



MINGULAY OF THE CLIFFS 



ABOUT ten miles to the south-westward of Barra Island, 

 and set far into the Atlantic, is the lonely and rock- 

 ^ girt island of Mingulay. It is not so many years 

 since a population of some forty persons inhabited the island; 

 now they have emigrated, chiefly to the neighbouring island 

 of Vatersay, which is more accessible, and Mingulay is given 

 over to the countless thousands of sea fowl that make their 

 home there during the time of their nesting. 



One August 4 a companion and I sailed out to the island. 

 For a week we had waited for the opportunity of making the 

 passage^ but constant storms swept the Atlantic, bringing 

 with them a swell exceptional for the time of year, and it 

 was not until late the preceding night that the wind had 

 moderated. Now with the morning only a light air from 

 the south-east ruffled the waters, but the sky was heavy with 

 watery clouds, and away towards Ardnamurchan and where 

 Mull stood out dimly with mist-capped hills, great banks of 

 ominous grey nimbus clouds lay piled up on the horizon. 

 Our course lay past the island of Muldoanich, where, not so 

 many years ago, the sea eagle still nested, and along the 

 eastern shore of Vatersay, Sandray and Pabbay. Making 

 their flight in single file as is their custom, solans winged 

 their way northward through the sounds between the islands 

 on passage to their nesting cliffs on St. Kilda. Crossing 

 their path, and heading almost all of them for Mingulay, 

 hurried many razorbills and guillemots, flying usually 

 in little companies, now just above the water's surface, 

 now moving rapidly and at a considerable height above 



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