GATHERING SEA-BIRDS' EGGS. 227 



the aerial cliffs. The same manoeuvre is performed, stage by stage, 

 until they reach the summit. But this is nothing ; he has now to 

 yisit the recesses in which the nests are to he found. 



Upon the edge of the rock a beam is run out horizontally ; to 

 this beam a two-inch rope, which is not less than nine hundred feet 

 in length, is attached. To the end of this immense line a plank 

 is tied, upon which the fowler seats himself This man holds 

 in his hand a light cord for the purpose of signalling to his com- 

 panions above. The fowler, thus seated, descends from cliff to cliff, 

 and from rock to rock ; he visits every nook and cranny in search of 

 plunder, making an ample harvest of eggs and birds, either taking 

 them by hand, or striking them with the end of his line. The 

 product of his perilous expedition he places in a sort of haversack, 

 which he carries slung from the shoulder. When he wishes to 

 change his place, he gives a preconcerted signal with his cord, 

 imparting an oscillating motion to it in the direction of that part of 

 the rock he wishes to visit. When the harvest is deemed sufficient 

 — when the day's sport is concluded — his companions are notified, 

 and the fowler is hoisted to the summit of the cliff. 



How incredible is the address, and how great the courage, 

 required to induce a man to let himself be suspended by a slender 

 cord over a precipice some hundreds of feet in height, and how 

 hazardous, how frightful the peril ! The cord might be cut by 

 chafing against the sharp rock. What risks he runs on changing 

 his place ! It has sometimes happened to those above to hear one 

 loud heart-rending shriek — the cry of despair. The men who hold 

 the rope lean forward — they see nothing — they hear only the 

 great voice of the sea, which drowns all other sounds as it breaks 

 against the island. They hasten to draw up the cord — alas ! its 

 reduced weight too plainly tells what has happened ! The fowler 

 has been seized with vertigo ; or, probably, he has overreached him- 

 self and lost his equilibrium on the slippery stones, and the wave 

 which roars at the base of this wall of rock has closed over him. 



It is such accidents as these which induce the inhabitant of 

 the Feroe Islands, when he leaves his house on such an expedi- 

 tion, to bid farewell to his family. Fatal catastrophes, however, 

 are not very frequent. Men who live in those climates which 

 nature seems to have, as it were, disinherited, become accustomed 



q2 



