CALL OF THE BLACK-BACKED GULL 195 
northern horizon is still red with the glare of the 
departed sun, the winds have sunk to rest, and no 
sound is heard save the faint murmur of the waves 
that clash over the distant reefs. Yet, hark! the 
terns are abroad, and their shrill cries come faintly 
on the ear, from the far-off sand-point, where, no 
doubt, they are engaged with a shoal of launces. 
Listen again! The oyster-catchers intermingle their 
clamorous and curiously modulated cries; and now, 
louder than all, is clearly heard the call of the 
black-backed gull, faintly seen in the dim light. 
Here is one of his breeding-places, a turf-crowned 
crag, torn, as it were, from the rocks, and forming 
an inlet inaccessible to human feet. Creeping 
stealthily among the crags, we faintly perceive the 
birds as they sit on their nests; but some of them 
have observed us. All spring on their feet, and a 
few launch into the air, uttering loud cries, which 
alarm the birds around. It is vain, you perceive, 
to try to surprise them by night or by day. Wander 
as long as you will in these places, what more can 
you see ? Perhaps a more acute observer may.— 
British Birds, vol. v., p. 534. 
23.—Promise of a Bright Day. 
The dawn of this 7th of August gave promise 
of a bright day. How beautiful is the quiet valley 
as it basks in the sunshine. The corn-fields, some 
nearly ready for the sickle, others yet green, are 
