166 THE INHABITANTS OF THE SEA. 



land. On the crest of the highest precipices, and only on such 

 as are furnished with small grassy shelves, on every spot above 

 a few inches in extent, the fulmars have taken possession of the 

 rock. On being seized, they instantly disgorge a quantity of clear 

 amber-coloured oil, which imparts to the whole bird, its nest 

 and young, and even the very rock which it frequents, a peculiar 

 and very disagreeable odour. 



Fulmar oil is one of the most valuable productions of St. 

 Kilda. The best is obtained from the old bird by surprising it 

 at night upon the rock, and tightly closing the bill until the 

 fowler has seized the bird between his knees with its head down- 

 wards. By opening the bill, the fulmar is allowed to eject 

 about a table-spoonful, or rather more, of oil into the dried 

 gullet or stomach of a solan-goose. The islanders use fulmar- 

 oil for their lamps, and consider it as an infallible remedy against 

 chronic rheumatism. 



It is chiefly in pursuit of the fulmar that the St. Kildian often 

 endangers his life. Two of the fowlers generally proceed in 

 company, each furnished with several coils of rope, about half an 

 inch in diameter. One of them fastens one of the ropes under 

 his armpits, and holding the extremity of another rope in one 

 hand, is lowered down the cliff. His comrade stands a little 

 away from the edge, holding the supporting rope firmly with 

 both hands and letting it out very slowly, while he allows the 

 other, or guide-rope, to slip out as is required from under one 

 foot, which loosely secures it. On reaching a ledge occupied 

 by birds, the fowler commences his operations, easily securing 

 the eggs and young birds, and knocking down the old ones with 

 a short stick, or catching them by a noose attached to a long 

 slender rod. He then secures his sport by bundling the birds 

 together, and tying them to a rope let down from above, depositing 

 at the same time in a small basket the eggs he has gathered. The 

 dexterity of these rocksmen is truly astonishing. The smallest 

 spot is considered by them as a sufficiently secure standing-place, 

 and they will creep on hands and knees, though cumbered with 

 a load of birds, along a narrow ledge, seemingly without concern 

 for their personal safety. When exhibiting before strangers, a 

 precipice about six hundred feet high, overhanging the sea, at 

 a short distance from the village, is generally chosen for a dis- 

 play of their agility. About midway they strike against the 



