REVIEWS. 
11 
limited to the time when the islets and surrounding seas are prepared for its recep¬ 
tion. To the fisherman its grating cry is as welcome as the craking of the land¬ 
rail to the farmer, .and its buoyant form is hailed with the same gratification upon 
the sea as the swallow upon the land. 
u To most ornithologists, few birds have conferred more pleasure in observing 
their habits than the roseate tern. Congregated in small flocks, they form in a 
manner similar to the gulls ‘ a play’ upon the water, wherever a ‘ school’ of fish 
is swimming near the surface, each bird, attractive from its changing and varying 
appearance— 
‘Now poising o'er ocean thy delicate form, 
Now breasting the surge with thy bosom so warm ; 
Now sweeping the billow, now floating on high, 
Now bathing thy plumes in the light of the sky.’ 
“Yet beautiful as are these birds, they are too often ruthlessly condemned to 
suffer for those very attractions which should preserve them—instances frequently 
occurring where a breeding haunt is invaded by persons whose propensities for 
slaughter find an outlet in the destruction of these unoffending birds. Equally un¬ 
fortunate in its habits at this time, the roseate tern forgets its usual timidity ; and 
when a bird, after being shot, falls slowly through the air from its buoyant light¬ 
ness, the entire flock congregate and fly down towards it, as if wondering why it had 
left their joyous troop. Flying in its vicinity, they scream notes of compassion, 
which are changed into a requiem for themselves, for the class who commit such 
an atrocity consider each pitiable trait exhibited by the bird as at least a tribute 
to the skill which they evince in destroying them. 
u The razor-bill nearly equals the guillemot in its numbers and distribution around 
the shores of the island, and closely resembles that bird in habits, amicably frequent¬ 
ing the same ledge on the face of the rock, where it deposits its single egg, enor¬ 
mously disproportionate to the size of the bird, and often in situations at an immense 
altitude over the ocean. Interesting in its habits from the associations connected 
with it, the razor-bill is an attendant upon the lofty precipices which occur around 
our island, and is equally abundant about the basaltic columns of the north as the 
granite ranges of the western coast. Observed and studied in their solitary breed¬ 
ing haunts, few can form the most remote idea of the magnificence which greets 
the observer in the neighbourhood of a breeding station. Flocks of various species, 
flying in long strings close to the water, and rising on the wing as they approach 
the cliffs, all settle without the slightest noise; bending over, we observe them 
ranged in lines along each flat, tabular projection, preening their feathers, and sit¬ 
ting upright hatching their single egg. The outer rocks at the base we observe, 
white and spotless, covered with hundreds of sea-gulls, in such contrast with the 
black side of the rock, as it were overspread with snow, outrivalling the white foam 
of the waves which surround it; lines of cormorants stoop forward, in their peculiar 
manner of standing, like so many projecting ornaments on a balustrade. There is 
no alarm or disturbance to intrude upon this carnival of the breeding season ; but 
let a gun be discharged, and instantly the entire precipice seems alive: hundreds of 
guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins glancing downwards to the water, flocks of cor¬ 
morants, with their long necks outstretched, fly off close to the water’s edge, and 
settling down when sufficiently remote from danger; whilst at the same instant, 
like ten thousand snowflakes, kittiwakes (viewed from the distance above) wheel 
round in circles, their confused screaming scarcely distinguishable from the seething 
of the ocean. Overhead some patriarchal raven croaks hoarsely and angrily at our 
intrusion, whilst four or five kestrels appear on their motionless wings like so many 
fixed objects against the sky ; each pinnacle of the rock is surmounted by a troop 
of jackdaws, their sidelong looks directed upon us, and chattering loudly, as if to 
silence the harsh grating cry of the starlings beside them. 
“ Beautiful as such a sight must be, however imperfect in its description, it is, 
pitiable when we reflect upon those solitudes invaded by boats full of persons, who 
form parties to destroy those birds, offering neither an opportunity to display the 
skill of the shooter, nor, when shot, of the slightest value as an article of food. 
Unfortunately, never glutted by destroying, they cover the sea with their quivering 
