442 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



snow-covered, presented a most wintry appearance. The captain of 

 the 'Erling Jarl' told me the season was about a month later than 

 usual in the north. Eiders' eggs were for sale in some of the little 

 shops. We had them for lunch on board, hard-boiled ; the yolk 

 is pinkish, and the white semi-transparent. I was greatly struck 

 with the pretty appearance of the Eiders sitting sunning them- 

 selves on the rocky holms at the water's edge. From Bodo 

 our course lay across the Vest Fjord. The view on the nearer 

 approach to the Lofoten Islands was very grand in its sombre 

 way — its cold hard beauty. Rugged, jagged-edged, barren, snow- 

 capped, and snow-lined almost to the sea-level, the islands rose 

 from a cold, dark steely-blue, white-flecked sea. Under a bril- 

 liant sun and in the clearest air, the scene was thoroughly arctic. 

 The north wind was icy cold, but it had a bracing freshness that 

 I had never quite experienced before. We ran through extra- 

 ordinarily narrow but deep channels into Svolvaer, on the island 

 of Vaago, a collection of wooden houses, chiefly built on piles, 

 and redolent of drying cod-fish. Even as we lay there it seemed 

 impossible for a big steamer to have come in so close among the 

 rocky islets. A Magpie flitted about, impudently tame, near a big 

 high wooden house — goods-warehouse, booking-office, and ' Lofo- 

 ten Hotel ' all in one. It had formed a bulky nest (the materials 

 for which it must have collected at great pains) on one of the 

 beams supporting the wide eaves. As we were passing along the 

 islands south of Ost Yaago, we saw both Cormorants and Shags 

 sitting on the rocky islets. Harstad-havn, on the island of 

 Hindo, was reached at 1.20 a.m. We were timed to stay there 

 about two hours, and in a case like this the benefit of the mid- 

 night sun is felt, for we were able to start off for a walk. The 

 pastures down by the shore were green and gay in places with 

 marsh marigold, the low birch trees had their leaves half-opened, 

 and willows were only just bursting into leaf. House Sparrows 

 were chirping from the sheds, but Willow Wrens (there were 

 many of them) were already abroad and singing. One is apt to 

 imagine that in perpetual daylight (often perpetual sunshine) 

 birds would hardly know when to go to roost, but they certainly 

 do go to sleep for a few hours. We found a bunch of Starlings 

 — always late risers — still at roost in a willow. Later on, one 

 sitting on a roof-ridge imitated a Gull's "inee-ew." Starlings 

 were pretty common here, and boxes have been put up on some 



