174 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XIII 
expected places, — an old nest of Rock Wren or Pigeon Guillemot, an inner recess 
of a Murre cave, an abandoned spur of a Puffin burrow, an overturned wheelbar- 
row or neglected board lying on the ground, driftwood on the beach — anything 
affording the slightest prospect of protection or cover. A pile of coal, sacked up 
and awaiting transfer from landing to siren, was found to be full of them. Since 
this was the rule from center to circumference of this magic isle, we conclude that 
the Cassin Auklet is the commonest bird on the Farallones, and estimates of popu- 
lation anywhere short of one or two hundred thousand do not take account of 
the facts. 
The Cassin Auklet seems incapable of controlling the force of its flight, and 
the wonder is that the birds are not every one of them dashed to pieces in a single 
night. In this respect they remind one of nothing else so much as beetles or 
moths, which come hurtling into the region of candle-light, crash against the 
candle-stick, and without an instant’s pause begin an animated search afoot. This 
crash-and-crawl method seems not exceptional but characteristic in the Auklet. It 
was especially noticeable in the paved area just outside our workroom door. 
Crash! announced the arrival of another food-laden messenger from the unknown 
deeps. The impact of collision with the building invariably stunned the bird so 
that it fell to the ground, but it immediately began a frantic search, and, as likely 
as not, before you could lay hands on it, disappeared in a crack under the doorstep. 
"Right here! Right here!" from a certain spot under the flooring proclaimed the 
home-coming, and so enthusiastic would be the reception accorded the dinner- 
laden parent that for a time all human conversation was suspended. 
Fresh eggs were the rule throughout our stay, but this was only the average, 
and every phase of departure was noted up to chicks half-grown. Not enough 
birds without eggs were discovered to establish the fact that the birds occupy their 
burrows for some days previous to deposition; but such I suspect to be the fact, as 
is the case with other monotocous species. 
4. Cepphus columba. Pigeon Guillemot. Present in small numbers from the 
first, but attaining a maximum of about two hundred June 1st. The gentle “sea 
pigeon” nests in crevices anywhere from about twenty feet above tide up to 
the summit of Tower Hill. Its favorite nesting range, however, is an immense 
rock-slide on the east slopes of Tower Hill. Quite contrary to any previous ex- 
perience with these birds (in Washington), I found all the nests carefully lined, 
usually w'ith rock flakes, sometimes with pebbles or bits of rusty iron. 
5. Uria troille californica. California Murre. Because of its fabled abund- 
ance and its history of unexampled persecution at the hands of the “eggers”, the 
liveliest curiosity possessed my mind regarding the present status and behavior of 
this species. In both matters I was destined to be disappointed. For some reason 
this Murre has not profited by full protection as might have been expected. It 
has neither increased in numbers nor gained in confidence. The fault lies, I think, 
chiefly w'ith the gulls, which have profited enormously under near immunity from 
human attack. To be sure, the human is oftenest the occasion, but seldom the 
cause, of the wrong-doing. Our presence was hailed with glad acclaim by the 
gulls, wdio, though somewhat fearful for their own treasures, are alw'ays eager for 
an excuse to plunder “the ledges”. In fact, the Larine outcry always seemed to 
be nine-tenths make-believe, being intended to alarm the galleries instead of voic- 
ing a personal anxiety. Obedient to the tradition, the Murres begin to shift and 
edge away when the gulls assure them that yonder object picking its way carefully 
over the rocks is dangerous. It looks harmless, but who knows ? A gull swoops 
near to the ledge and .shrieks, “Fly for your lives, you fools!” The timorous obey 
