A Hebridean Island and its Birds 



out and often dying, are found in the most unlikely places 

 many miles from the coast. 



I know the island at every season of the year — in winter 

 when the spray from the great Atlantic waves drifts on the 

 wings of the storm over the topmost point of the grassy hill, 

 and in spring when all the mountain ranges of the mainland 

 and of the Isle of Skye stand out in the clear sunshine with 

 the smoke of many heather fires rising, blue and ethereal, 

 into the quiet air. But of all the seasons it is during the 

 months of June and July, in fine steady weather, as the fisher- 

 men say, that the charm of this island is at its height. 



At this season, accompanied by a kindred lover of the 

 island and its birds, I have pitched my tent on the green, 

 grassy slopes, and day by day busied myself with the study 

 and photography of the island birds. During such days of 

 summer it is good to have one's home on this outpost. By 

 reason of its configuration there is always shelter from the 

 wind on some part of the island, and the sun shines on the 

 sheltered slopes with great power and warmth. And what 

 can be finer than from one's tent to see the first of the sunrise 

 on the north-eastern horizon where, from behind a range of 

 conical and far-distant hills the sun, a red glowing ball, 

 first appears? And then when full daylight comes, what a 

 marvellous view of hill, sea and glen can be spied from the 

 summit of the little hill. 



Eastward lie the great hills of the Scottish mainland, and 

 when on the island the sun shines bright and warm, dark 

 thunder-clouds often shroud these hills — one can, perhaps, 

 see the rain descending in torrents from the clouds until all 

 view in that direction is blotted out. One hill there is rising 

 straight from the deep waters of the Atlantic that attracts to 

 itself many clouds, so that even in the finest weather the 

 mountain-top is often shrouded in mist. And of a summer's 

 night what can be finer than to sit near the summit of the 

 island and watch the sun slowly setting far out into the 

 Atlantic, and afterwards, in the gathering dusk, to see, one 



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