BIRD-CATCHING. 
489 
the son follows the same calling, aye, even were he to 
he eye-witness of his father’s destruction,—by being- 
dashed to the depths below ! 
This kind of bird-catching is no simple amusement, 
and yet it is productive of enjoyment, because every 
dangerous work pleases the heart of a genuine man. 
The fowler faces danger and death to obtain food for his 
family; he gathers store for the long, dreary winter in 
his break-neck expeditions. The sea is the arable land, 
which the inhabitants of these islands till; the sea is 
their garner, their treasure-house,—everything, in fact, 
to them; for the land is much too sterile and inhospitable 
to support them; and the long, hard winter in high lati¬ 
tudes imperatively obliges man to rely entirely on his 
own exertions, for it hinders any attempt at union, breaks 
the bonds of sociability, and makes neighbours out of the 
question. Shut up for months together in a hut, either 
wholly or partially buried under the snow, cut off from 
all communication with the outer world, the inhabitant 
of these islands is only possessed of that which he has 
been able to collect together as food for the winter: he is 
dependent on his stores; if they fail he must die ! On 
this account they collect everything which the sea affords 
them, and which is eatable, at risk of life and limb. 
The fowler harvests the products of the ocean in three 
different ways. When the rocky walls of the islands 
become populated with their summer guests, when every 
hole, crack or crevice, ledge, point and crag is tenanted 
by the feathered throng, then the fowler approaches the 
rocks, in a boat from below, accompanied by three or four 
companions, and effects a landing at the foot of the per¬ 
pendicular precipice, where the effect of the rolling surges 
is least felt; or perhaps he climbs up from the side; while 
