Ailsa Craig and its Birds. 121 



their necks, and looking upwards with an eye of fear that fairly- 

 put me out of countenance. Judging from their expression, it 

 was evident they were not accustomed to such visits of inspec- 

 tion, and their mingled look of terror and perplexity on seeing 

 the apparition was the reverse of complimentary. Under the 

 perch of these odoriferous "children of the mist/' other 

 families came in view, lower and still lower, their behaviour 

 and unclean peculiarities being modified by distance, till the 

 eye lost sight of the species, and sea-fowl in general became 

 responsible for the smell and uproar. 



When the young of the guillemot are half fledged, the 

 parent birds are seen daily by the keeper taking them down 

 on their backs to the sea, and unceremoniously pitching them 

 off, within a few feet of the water. They have also been 

 observed to seize them by the hind neck, as a cat would do to 

 its kittens, and after a moment's hesitation, launch from their 

 high perches, and descend with an unsteady flutter, till they 

 could drop the young ones with safety. 



The fearful discord which prevails on these ledges, when 

 the young are hatched, is not easily described. The guillemots 

 and razor-bills unite in one deafening roar of a peculiar tone, 

 and when that loud groan is past, the harsh cries of the solan 

 geese — bad enough of their kind — are heard as a kind of faint 

 echo. But the noise is only exerted when danger is at hand, 

 for on ordinary occasions the cry of the gentle kittiwake is 

 oftenest heard, especially at twilight, before all becomes hushed. 

 At this hour few localities are more impressive than this solitary 

 rock. I remember one evening in June seating myself on a 

 projecting pinnacle overlooking the sea, where I had partly in 

 view the roosting places of these airy sea-gulls. The sun had 

 gone down behind some loose clouds touching the sea, leaving 

 the sky steeped in purple ; the cliffs partook of its hues, and 

 even the birds themselves were coloured for a moment. Look- 

 ing around I descried a peregrine falcon on his eyrie, the noble 

 bird being close enough for me to see the sparkle of his full 

 black eye. Eagle-like, he sat with his neck drawn upon his 

 shoulders, moving his -head with a careless turn to the side. 

 In the next instant he threw a defiant look at the purple spot 

 on the horizon, stedfastly gazing upon it a few seconds, then 

 the glance was withdrawn, and with a shrug he went to sleep. 

 As the gathering shadows now grew deeper, I recollected, what 

 would have occurred to most people in the circumstances, that 

 a knowledge of the best and safest way down the rugged face 

 of the cliffs was of more importance than all the falcons in the 

 world. 



The limits of a single article scarcely admit of more than a 

 bare enumeration of the birds frequenting the island ; but as 



