206 IN THE DAYS OF AUDUBON 



desolate land. The gay bunting erects his white crest, and 

 gives utterance to the joy he feels in the presence of his 

 brooding mate; the willow grouse on the rock crows his 

 challenge aloud; each floweret, chilled by the night air, 

 expands its pure petals; the gentle breeze shakes from the 

 blades of grass the heavy dewdrops. 



" On the guillemot isle the birds have again settled, 

 and now renew their loves. Startled by the light of day, 

 one of the eggers springs on his feet and rouses his com- 

 panions, who stare around them for, a while, endeavoring 

 to recollect their senses. Mark them, as with clumsy 

 fingers they clear their drowsy eyes; slowly they rise on 

 their feet. See how the lubbers stretch out their arms and 

 yawn; you shrink back, for verily ' that throat might 

 frighten a shark.' But the master, soon recollecting that 

 so many eggs are worth a dollar or a crown, casts his eye 

 toward the rock, marks the day in his memory, and gives 

 orders to depart. The light breeze enables them to reach 

 another harbor a few miles distant — one which, like the 

 last, lies concealed from the ocean by some other rocky 

 isle. Arrived there, they re-enact the scene of yesterday, 

 crushing every egg that they can find. 



"For a week each night is passed in drunkenness and 

 brawls, until, having reached the last breeding-place on the 

 coast, they return, touch in every isle in succession, shoot 

 as many birds as they need, collect the fresh eggs, and lay 

 in a cargo. At every step each ruffian picks up an egg, so 



