THE CONDOR 
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1 68 
gotten a little too near the other old lady, for she dealt him a rap on the side of the 
head that made him crouch back in a hurry. Instead of the chick’s mother aveng- 
ing by striking back at her neighbor, she suddenly reached over and took her 
neighbor’s chick two sharp clips on the head. The old birds didn’t strike at each 
other once, but several times the chicks got the benefit of the quarrel, until they 
dodged out of the way. 
As you look over a large series of murre eggs, you see a perfect spring flower- 
garden of tints. You might wonder who the artist was who designed a thousand 
of them and got no two alike. Scientists have said that this variation in size, 
shape and color may be of use in helping the murres to recognize their own eggs. 
I questioned whether it was within a murre’s limited intelligence to know her 
A SECTION OF THE MURRE ROOKERY 
Courtesy of The Pacific Monthly 
own egg or chick, when there were several hundred others scattered about on all 
sides. I thought all she wanted was a part in the big nest group, and that she re- 
turned each time and planted herself on the first egg she found, and, like any old 
barn-yard fowl, didn’t care a feather whether she or her neighbor laid it. But 
this is not so. 
We lay stretched out on our stomachs on the ledge just above the big rook- 
ery, where we could watch the ordinary run of life and not disturb the birds in 
any way. When a murre arrived from the fishing grounds, he lit on the outer 
edge of the table, where he looked about after two or three elaborate bows. Then, 
like a man in a fourth of July crowd, he looked for an opening in the dense front 
ranks. Seeing none, he boldly squeezed in, pushing and shoving to right and 
