XV THE ROCK-PIGEON 141 



of the rocks, and from which we had no chance of extracting 

 him. This cave was too damp for the birds, but was much 

 marked with the footprints of otters. Though the entry was so 

 small, the cave itself was both lofty and extensive. 



As we floated along the coast, stopping at the mouths of 

 several caves, and occasionally landing, we put up several large 

 flocks of pigeons, and here and there cormorants and other sea- 

 birds. On one shelf of the rocks, far up above the sea, was the 

 nest of the raven. It was once inhabited by a pair of eagles, 

 but is now quietly tenanted by the raven. These birds had 

 flown ; but both young and old were flying about the tops of 

 the cliff, croaking and playing fantastic antics, as if in great 

 astonishment at our appearance ; for I fancy that they have 

 very few visitants here. I tried a shot at one with a rifle-ball, 

 but only splintered the rock at his feet. 



Some of the caves were of great extent, and very full of 

 pigeons, old and young, several of which I killed. The birds 

 were nearly all blue ; here and there a sandy-coloured one, but 

 no other variety. Having made our way a considerable distance 

 along the coast, and the tide being now quite out, we landed 

 on a green spot of grass that stretched down between the rocks 

 to the water's edge. Above our heads, and in every direction, 

 were heron-nests ; some built in the clusters of ivy, and others 

 on the bare shelves of rocks. The young ones were full grown, 

 but still in the nests, standing upright and looking gravely at 

 us. Though I thought it a shame to make any of them 

 orphans, I took the opportunity of killing three fine old male 

 herons, whose black feathers I coveted much for my salmon- 

 flies ; sitting quietly at the foot of the rocks, I could distinctly 

 see which birds were well supplied with these feathers, as they 

 flew in to feed their young over my head. The feathers that 

 are so useful in fly-dressing are the black drooping feathers of 

 the breast of the cock heron : neither the young bird nor the 

 hen bird has them. While resting my man here, I sent rifle- 

 balls through three of the herons, each of whom afforded me a 

 goodly supply of feathers. 



Looking with my glass to the opposite coast of the firth, I 

 could distinctly see the long range of sandhills between Nairn 

 and the Bay of Findhorn, and could distinguish many familiar 

 points and nooks. While resting here, too, a large seal appeared 



