138 BULLETIN 121, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM. 



Spring. — Concerning its arrival on its breeding grounds Mr. 

 Arthur H. Norton (1881) has written the following: 



In the early part of June, or even the latter part of May, these little birds 

 come into the Islands off the rugged coast of Maine. Some time is spent in in- 

 vestigating the accommodations, and as the time advances they enter one of the 

 last year's tunnels or begin to excavate a new one. Both birds enter this sub: 

 terranean tube and there work with a will, never coming forth to play in the 

 sunshine or join in the terns' hurrying flight. So if we walk above their heads, 

 we see them not ; and knowing nothing about their habits we never suspect their 

 presence. If we would learn of their ways, we must break into their burrows or 

 await the coming of night. 



On our breaking into their burrows they appear bewildered and seek darkness 

 rather than flight ; they utter no note of solicitude nor show signs of displeasure 

 at this rude housebreaking, and can be taken in hand as easily as a pet chicken. 

 They move with a staggering walk, or crawl, and get under the nearest object 

 that affords protection from the light. When tossed into the air they take wing 

 and fly far out over the ocean, never pausing to look back after the fate of their 

 one egg. 



As night comes on and the heat of day is succeeded by the cool of evening, 

 we will hear, just after the tern's voice is hushed, a nasal squeak, in several 

 syllables, delivered very rapidly and in a jerky way. It is the petrel on shore 

 to spend the night in frolic or to propagate his race. Like his customs, his 

 voice is peculiar, and musical in a way. On shore the petrel's voice is the 

 only sound that accompanies the ocean's ceaseless roar through the solitude 

 of night. 



As morning approaches his notes become less frequent, and cease as the 

 terns rise, and fill the air with their short cries. 



Nesting. — In my various wanderings on the coasts of Maine and 

 eastern Canada I have seen a number of breeding colonies of Leach 

 petrels, but I shall not attempt to describe them all in detail. In 

 the vicinity of Penobscot Bay, Maine, there are several large colo- 

 nies on some of the outlying islands, but the inner islands are seldom 

 visited for breeding purposes by this pelagic species, which makes 

 its home on the open sea and loves to be within easy reach of the 

 ocean swell. A picturesque and well-known breeding resort in this 

 vicinity is on Spoon Island, which consists of two well-rounded 

 hills connected by a low flat area of marsh and beach; its peculiar 

 outline is easily discernible, far off to seaward, as the coastwise 

 steamer passes around the south end of Deer Isle, though it stands in 

 the outermost row of islands. The larger hill, presumably the bowl 

 of the spoon, is perhaps a hundred feet high, rounded and bare of 

 vegetation, except for its grassy slopes, over which are scattered 

 many loose rocks and boulders or outcropings of its rocky founda- 

 tions. But on this rocky hill sufficient soft loamy soil, full of vege- 

 table mold, has accumulated to offer just the conditions wanted by 

 the petrels for their burrows. On my first visit to Spoon Island, 

 on June 19, 1899, the burrows were numerous, indicating a large 



