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Honoring
Mary S$. Shavb
ADELSON LIBRARY
AT SAPSUCKER WOODS
BH CORNELL LAB of ORNITHOLOGY
Illustration of Snowy Owl by Louis Agassiz Fuertes
THE BIRDS OF
IONA AND MULL
1852—70
BY THE LATE
HENRY DAVENPORT GRAHAM
AUTHOR OF “THE ANTIQUITIES OF IONA”
WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR
EDITED BY
J. A. HARVIE-BROWN, F.Z.S.
MEMBER OF THE BRIT. ORNITH. UNION
Printed by George Waterston & Sons
FOR
DAVID DOUGLAS, EDINBURGH.
LONDON, . . . SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT, AND CO., LIMITED,
GLASGOW, . . .» JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS.
CAMBRIDGE, . MACMILLAN AND BOWES.
Cornell University
Library
The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.
http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924090193453
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IS 90
PREFACE.
WHEN it was first proposed that the late Mr H. D. Graham’s MS8S.
should be resuscitated and saved from oblivion, the present Editor
had by that time devoted a large share of personal attention to
the Natural History of the West of Scotland and the Isles. But
as he was aware that Mr H. D. Graham’s Notes and Letters were
then under able editorship, and had been announced for publica-
tion, he considered his time and opportunities would be better
bestowed upon other districts which were not receiving so much
attention. Although a few occasions did permit of his visiting
portions of Mull, and he kept a few notes of such facts as he met
with, no special care was given to Mull until it became surely
ascertained that the volume on Iona and Mull was not going to
appear under the editorship of Mr Robert Gray; nor were any
steps taken until after that gentleman’s death to again communi-
cate with the family of Mr Graham regarding the Manuscripts
and Sketches, of which latter the present Editor retained a vivid
recollection, having seen them in Mr Gray’s house in Glasgow.
A correspondence ensued with Mr Charles W. Graham, which
vi PREFACE,
resulted in a request to undertake the editing, and finally all the
materials were placed in the present Editor’s hands in the begin-
ning of the year 1889. It was also arranged that, as considerable
attention had for some years been bestowed upon many other
districts of Argyll and the Isles, this volume should form one
of the series on the Vertebrate Fauna of Scotland at present
being issued by Mr David Douglas. This was unanimously
approved of by all parties concerned.
As for those who have not yet, of course, been consulted—
viz., the readers of the volume—the present Editor desires that
it should be looked upon somewhat in the light of a relief-volume,
affording insight into the life in the Hebrides not only of the
birds of Iona, but also of the Naturalist who spent so much of
his time and leisure in their pursuit and study. The sketches—
“ Heart-pictures ”—by the author have been selected for illustra-
tion, not as highly-finished artistic productions, but simply as
partly illustrating the text, partly illustrating Graham’s sense of
humour, whilst rapidly drawing them in the long winter evenings
for the amusement of the kind friends with whom he lived, and
also to serve the purpose of a pleasant recollection of his life
and work in Iona amongst his friends and the remaining members
of his family.
After careful consideration he has decided not to bring the
bird-list up to date, but rather to retain Mr Graham’s Notes
almost intact; all the more so, as a later opportunity, under the
title of another volume of the series, will, it is hoped, be given,
PREFACE. vil
which will at the same time afford the means of bringing up to
date the fauna of a much larger and natural area.
He cannot -take leave of his portion of the duties con-
nected with the publication without acknowledging to the full
the advantage he possessed in the previous partial editing of the
late Mr Robert Gray; and also his thanks are due to Mr Charles
W. Graham for the excellent condition and chronological order in
which the materials had been lovingly preserved, rendering the
Editor’s work all the more a labour of love and a sincere pleasure.
Nor can he omit to record his thanks to Mr William Douglas for
the careful attention and excellent assistance he rendered in con-
nection with the illustrative portions, as well as for his super-
vision of the whole book during its passage through the press.
Lastly, the Editor’s thanks are also due to Mr Colin M‘Vean,
the early friend and companion of Graham, for his ever ready
and kindly interest and assistance, his contribution towards the
Memoir, and criticism in detail of the sketches, many, if not all,
of the incidents themselves remaining green in his memory.
Dunipace Houses, LARBERT,
Sth Sept. 1890.
Qk thet tpon Hak aer1wx Vdland or tH
74 peccacly .
ORIGINAL PREFACE BY MR ROBERT GRAY.
Tue following pages contain the substance of numerous communica-
tions addressed to me by the late Henry Davenport Graham, Esq.
These were commenced in 1851, and were continued during an interval
of twenty years. Shortly before his death he agreed, at my suggestion,
to their publication, as a memorial of many pleasant years spent in
Jona, and as a contribution to the ornithology of Scotland, to be dedi-
cated chiefly to those who, like himself, preferred seeking their infor-
mation in the open fields. Mr Graham was, in the strictest sense, a
field naturalist, as his glowing descriptions of his favourites and their
interesting haunts abundantly prove. No one, indeed, who has studied
the habits of birds can fail to appreciate what he has written. The
Notes contain so much descriptive power and genuine admiration of
Nature in all her varied aspects that it is impossible not to feel that
their author was a naturalist of rare abilities.
Through the kindness of Mrs Graham, I have been permitted to
examine the collection of drawings executed by her husband during
his residence in Iona, The bird portraits—about one hundred and
seventy in number, and all painted from life—are extremely charac-
teristic, and were at one time, we believe, intended for publication.
These are bound together in a volume, entitled, Zhe Birds of Iona:
All Shot upon that Sacred Island or in its Vicinity, and each drawing
is supplied with manuscript notes on the habits of the birds and the
localities they frequent, some of which I have made use of in these
pages. In a separate volume, containing upwards of two hundred and
fifty coloured sketches of sporting recollections, extending over a period
of four years, Mr Graham has left a most vivid pictorial history of his
x ORIGINAL PREFACE BY MR ROBERT GRAY.
life in Iona. T have pondered over this “book of sports” with an
intense although a melancholy interest, many of the drawings being
illustrative of incidents narrated in his letters, from which the present
volume has been compiled. In one of the scenes is depicted a life-like
flock of thirteen long-tailed ducks, and the author in his shooting punt
with his two dogs, “ Dash” and “ Doran,” looking eagerly at the result
of a poking shot at the retreating birds; in another, a vast colony of
Puffins at Lunga Island ; in a third, a Cormorant battue at Staffa ; and
in a fourth, a Peregrine Falcon exultingly clutching a Chough, while
he himself is being shot at from below. a
Epinzureu, 1875.
Our deceased friend, the previous Editor, Mr Robert Gray, in
winding up the above preface, goes on to say that in prosecuting his
task he ever kept in view the difficulty, he might almost say impossi-
bility, of adding to the journals of so gifted a writer a word that
would enhance their originality or freshness.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Memoir, . 3 ‘ : : F 1
Letters rrom H. D. Granam to Ropert Gray, SECRETARY
or THE GLascow Natura History Society, ; 35
Extracts From D1arils, INCLUDING A “ WaLK THROUGH GLEN-
MORE IN Mutt,” : ; 3 : ; . 187
Notes From Minute-Books oF tHe Naturat Hisrory Society
oF GLascow, ; ; ; ; ; i . 201
Tue Birps or Jona anp Mutt, , : ; . 207
APPENDIX, : : : ; : : : : : . 273
INDEX, . , , : ; ‘ 3 é : ; . 277
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Illustrated title-page, ‘ : é ‘ : : ili
Birds of Iona, 5 : : . Vill
Doran medal, . F ; : x
Heather bed, : ; xii
Doran, . ‘ : : : : : xvi
My room, ‘ : F : ; 3
The Manse, Iona, : ; ; 26
Spouting Cave, Iona, 34
Winter travelling in Mull, 3 ; 37
Catching the Water-rail, . ‘ ; : : 37
Crossing the ferry, . ; 3 F : 43
Carnbulg Island, AG
Gathering carrigean at Soay, . 46
Returning from Staffa, : : : 48
Iona Cathedral, 2 51
Shooting Kestrels in the Cathedral, : : 53
Going after Long-tailed ducks, . ‘ 54
Raven’s nest, . ‘ ; F : 56
Second night at Staffa, : . : 58
Crofter at work, : : ; 59
xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
The wounded Lairig, : : : ‘ : : . 62, 63
Punting with Doran, : : , : F : 64
Scudding home, ‘ 3 : 3 , ‘ j 68
Flight of the Long-tailed ducks, ; ; ' 69
Doran chasing wounded duck, . : ‘ ‘ ; 73
Punt and Doran, . 2 ‘ i j : . : 75
The old Hoody Crow, ; , : : ; j 76
Great Pigeon Cave, . ' . ; F , : 78
Shooting pigeons at my cave, . : : ‘ : : 80
Climbing after a shot pigeon, . ‘ ; : : ‘ ‘ 82
Pigeon egg-hunting, ‘ . ‘ ‘ : F 5 : 83
The ‘Scarbh,’ . . ; : : ; ; : ‘ ; 87
Squall—‘ Let fly everything !’ : ; F : . : 90
Dutchman’s Cap, : 4 : : d ; : 93
Shooting puffins, . : , : : : : : . 94, 95
Birds breakfasting, . : ‘ : : : : ; ; 96
Marsh, . ; , ; ; i ‘ ‘ F F ; 97
Heron on stone, : : : : ; ‘ . 101
Cormorant-shooting in punt, . ; : ; : 103
Hauling up punt, . ; ; : ‘ ‘ . . 108
Beul Mor, the Great Gorge, ‘ : ; . lil
Dash and Doran, . : . : p . 112
Colin’s first shot, : : . 118
Shelter from a squall, ' ‘ F ; ‘ ‘ . L116
Fishing cuddies, _.. : “ : ‘ ‘ : . 122
Heads, feet, and feathers, : 3 j ‘ : . 128
White cormorant, . . : ; . 130
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xv
PAGE
Perforated shell, . : ‘ : ; 131
Blowing up an old blunderbuss, : : ‘ : é . 138
Shooting Scarts at Staffa, : ‘ ‘ d . . 135
Waiting for Scart to dive, i : ‘ ‘ : : . 137
Scart-shooting, 3 ‘ ‘ : j i . 140, 141
The hubble-bubble occasioned by a wounded Scart, . : . 142
The Cormorant, : F ‘ : ‘ ; : . 144
Ardrishaig, 3 : i , é . 145
Looking after curlews, . , , 5 F d ; . 147
Stalking curlews, . : ; F : ; . 150
The punt and curlews, 7 : ‘ : 5 . 153
Returning from Bunesan, ; ; ‘ F i . 155
Bernacle geese, F : : : : ‘ ; . 163
Bernacle geese ; last shot of the old year, . : 168, 169
Loch Potii, Mull, . : F - 173
Greylag geese, : . : : : , 176
Red-legged Crow, . : : : : : ‘ ‘ . 186
Picking up the wounded, . . : : : ‘ : . 189
Moored off Garveloch, . ‘ : : : : : 191
Glenmore, ‘ ’ : ; : : ‘ 195
Tramp through Glenmore, 5 ; . 3 : » 199
Rain from the hills, ; ; : ‘ : é ‘ - 200
Hunting scarts, : ‘ : : : 4 ‘ . 201
Colony of puffins at Lunga Island, . : 5 oe 206
Gull-chick, 3 : 3 : ‘ . 272
Map of Iona, . 5 ; : F 274
Doran’s grave ‘ : : ‘ f P . 280
co} >
MEMOTR.
“Every one knows with what interest it is natural to retrace the
course of our own lives. The past state of a man’s being is retained in
a connection with the present by that principle of self-love which is
unwilling to relinquish its hold on what has once been his,
“Though he cannot but be sensible of how little consequence his
life can have been in the creation, compared with many other trains of
events, yet to himself he has felt it more important than all other
trains together.”
Foster (First Essay).
ZEEE iff
ZI,
September 1850.
THE storm is roaring in blasts down the chimney, the doors
creak, the windows rattle, and the rain in impetuous gusts is
driven against the panes. A winter storm is raging among the
Hebrides, and howls and dashes round the island of Iona.
Things being thus uninviting out of doors, indoor occupation
must be looked for. My gun, well oiled, lies idle in the corner,
with the ‘Scarbh’s’ flag dangling from its nail above it. Doran
has been out several times to survey the state of the weather,
and has at last returned resignedly to dry his shaggy hide at the
blazing peats, and I compose myself to start a new diary. But
this diary, before commencing it from the present date, I intend
prefacing with a few notes of the principal events as far back as
I can remember that have occurred to me during my life.
Foster’s first essay is on “A man’s writing a memoir of
himself,” which is recommended by that clever writer as a useful
4 MEMOIR,
and interesting practice, and the sentences on the preceding page are
copied from him as the best introduction and apology to my diary.
Born August 13,1825. Baptised in the following September.
My father was residing at this time in Upper Gower Street,
and was in business at Lincoln’s Inn.
Before I began to recollect anything, we left London, my
father retiring from active business; and in the year 1830 he
went abroad with his whole family. My earliest recollections
are of the yellow travelling carriage in which we performed the
tour—my mother and myself, Charles and his nurse in the
inside, my father and Reginald on the box, and Emma (now
Mrs P.) on the dickey behind. The well-loaded carriage was
dragged along by four horses, mounted by a pair of French
postilions in jack-boots. A few miles in advance we were pre-
ceded by Victor, the courier, a big, good-natured Frenchman, in
moustache and a sort of uniform. Thus we traversed France,
crossed the Alps, and advanced into Italy till we reached Naples.
Mount Vesuvius was in a state of eruption, and I recollect
watching its flames at night; but little else made any impression
upon my mind.
While staying in Rome (1831) we witnessed the election of
anew Pope. At night St Peter’s was magnificently illuminated ;
the carnival next came on; but at this time there were great
political disturbances, a revolution was apprehended, and the safety
of all foreigners, particularly that of the English, was endangered.
The hotels containing strangers were barricaded and fortified to
‘resist any attack made by the mob. At length we made our
escape, and left the Eternal City precipitately.
MEMOIR. 5
When passing through Florence we were seized with the
measles. An order had been issued forbidding any foreigners
remaining more than a single night in the city; however, on my
father’s representing his case to the authorities, we obtained leave
to rest three days.
I recollect looking out at the carriage window at Mont
Blane as we passed within sight of its glaciers. I also retain a
vivid recollection of Switzerland and the tedious zig-zag roads
across the Alps. We narrowly escaped destruction here. The
ropes which attached the carriage to a team of oxen broke, the
carriage rolled backwards down the declivity, ran to the side of
the road, which was bounded by a precipice, and came in contact
with a small tree growing by the roadside, which stopped its
career. My father and Reginald had dismounted, and were
walking up the hill at the time, and Emma, to save herself,
jumped down from her elevated seat behind on to the road and
escaped injury.
An agreeable sojourn of some continuance we spent on the
banks of the Lake of Geneva, at Ouchy, near the town of
Lausanne, where we hired a house situated among vineyards and
chestnut-trees. We also resided for some time in Paris at a
hotel in the Place Vendéme..
On returning home from the Continent we brought a Parisian
tutor, Mr B., who, though of English parentage, had been
brought up in France, and was indeed quite a model of a
Frenchman, volatile and thoughtless, with a truly Parisian
vanity and love of showing of: However, we became much
attached to him for his amiable manners, and because he was
B
6 MEMOIR.
our companion as well as tutor. We resided chiefly at [ose
Cottage, E.B., and he used to lead us forth on long rambles upon
the South Downs, armed with leaping-poles, and in quest of
adventures, or under the chalk cliffs of Beachy Head, where he
led us up desperate attempts at escalading the crumbling heights ;
but his belief was that any hazard was trifling, provided one created
admiration, more especially in female spectators. We spent one
winter in the Crescent, Clapham, also some time in Brighton.
Mr B. left us after two years, and returned to France.
Mr B.’s successor in the dominie’s chair was Mr T., a
native of Greenock, and a student for the Scotch Church. He
was a very great contrast to our last preceptor, for as Mr B.
was a thorough Frenchman, so, on the other hand, Mr T. was as
demure, as quiet, and retiring as a native of Scotland need be.
Besides being an excellent instructor, he was a man of steady
religious principles, which he was careful to instil into the minds
of his pupils.
During this time we resided half the year at Rose Lodge,
Clapham Common, within ball-shot of the Hall, where my father’s
mother lived. Of course, we spent a great deal of our time there.
She was a very superior and clever woman, an excellent artist,
and exceedingly particular. Indeed, she was the authoress of
Teresa Tidy’s Eighteen Maxims on Neatness and Order. As her
publisher observed of her, “Mrs G. was a lady who made
herself beloved and feared.” The other half of the year we spent
at Rose Cottage. Eastbourne was then a lovely, retired spot.
On one side the beautiful undulating South Downs extended like
a huge sea wave. Upon them one may walk without ever feeling
MEMOIR. T
fatigue, so elastic is the short green turf, so sweet the yellow
blossoming furze, and so exhilarating the pure sea breeze. The
sea continually rolled upon the beach at the foot of the long
range of white chalk cliffs forming the stupendous heights of
Beachy Head, and which give Albion her name. About nine
miles west is Windmill, the property of my grandfather, Mr
C., whom I but lightly remember; but we children used
frequently to visit there while Mrs C. was still living. The
mansion-house is closely surrounded by wood, the lofty trees
being inhabited by a rookery and heronry. What deeply im-
pressed our childish minds was the mysterious quietness which
reigned through the apartments indoors, contrasted with the
noise of the rookery out of doors; the damp, musty smell which
prevailed everywhere, in consequence of being so much shut in
by wood; the excessively high feeding, which caused a visit to
Windmill always to terminate with a dose of salts; and the
ten-shilling tip we received at our departure.
1834.—I have a regular diary for this and the two succeed-
ing years, a singular sort of production ; but we were early taught
to keep journals—an admirable habit !
October 4.—My sister Caroline born.
1835.—In September the entire family went to Edmond
Castle on a visit to our uncle. Mr T. left us, very much to
our regret. He went afterwards to Kelso, but after that we
never heard anything more of him.
1836.—This winter we spent in Paris, living in the Rue de
la Paix. We renewed our acquaintance with Mr B., whom
we found in Paris giving lessons in French and English. He
8 MEMOIR.
accordingly came daily to teach Charles and me French. This
was a very happy, agreeable winter, and, besides the enjoyment,
we received the benefit of the instructions of a whole mob of
French masters. Mons. F. taught elocution; Mons. 8. dancing,
Mons. N. drawing, Mons. R. music, Mr B. French; and lastly,
we went to the barracks of the pompiers (firemen) to be
exercised by a sergeant in gymnastics. Returned home to
England in May. This time we also brought a tutor with us,
Mr K., a German; but though he got us on very well with
German and French, yet his temper was so disagreeable that
we had to part with him in the autumn. He was a native of
Saxony, banished from thence for writing against the Government.
This winter, instead of living at Rose Cottage, which was getting
too small for us, we went into Susan’s.
1837.—Having now no tutor in the house, Reginald went
to the Rev. Mr T.’s, who lived on the other side of Clapham
Common, with about a dozen pupils. Charles and I received
daily lessons from Mr R. (nicknamed M‘Diarmid), who taught us
writing, English, geography, and the globes, chemistry, geometry,
&e., &e.
1838.—Charles and I now went to school at the Rev.
Mr G.’s, Clapham, where there were about twenty other boys
besides ourselves. Of course we disliked it exceedingly, it being
the first time of our leaving home. When the summer holi-
days came on, we went down to Susan’s, Eastbourne. After
this, instead of returning to Mr G.’s, I was sent to Dr B.’s,
Coombe Wood, near Kingston-upon-Thames. It was a much
larger school, containing sixty boys, and it was conducted on the
MEMOIR. 9
Pestalozzi system. There were seven under- masters, and each class
never remained more than an hour at the same task. At this
time I had a strong inclination to go to sea, which originated from
perusing Captain Basil Hall’s Fragments, from dislike to school,
and from a kind of taste for enterprise. An extraordinary freak
entered into my head to perform. One fine afternoon I jumped
over the playground palings and set off, without knowing whither
or wherefore. After walking till midnight in the direction of
Dorking, I crept into the window of a barn, and slept on a
ladder. At sunrise I resumed my journey, breakfasted for a
shilling at a roadside inn (the sign of Tangiers), and walked in
the direction of London, taking a considerable circuit to avoid
the neighbourhood of Kingston. It was a lovely day; the sun
shone bright, and I enjoyed it as an escaped convict or a truant
schoolboy can alone do. However, after walking till four in the
afternoon, I arrived at Westminster Bridge, hungry, weary, and
quite unresolved what next to do. While I was sitting in one
of the alcoves on Westminster Bridge (where I thought that, if
it came to the worst, I might pass the night), an old man with
a bundle turned in and seated himself on the stone bench. He
had the appearance of great poverty, though his dress, patched
and threadbare as it was, showed attempts at neatness and
shabby gentility; but there was something exceedingly mild
and benevolent in his thin, starved physiognomy, so that after a
few commonplace remarks I told him that I was a boy just come
up from the country in search of a place, and asked him if he could
recommend me where to go. Now, this poor old man was a real
good Samaritan, as I will presently show, and it reminds me of
10 MEMOIR.
the passage, “ Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby
some have entertained angels unawares;” for while this old
man thought he was sheltering a poor, friendless boy, who could
never make him any return, yet by it he eventually made friends
who saved him from starvation, and enabled him to end his days
in comfort. We jogged on together till he brought me to the
Cheshire Cheese, a small public in St Clement Danes, where he
had a garret, and, like the Irish bard who burnt his harp to cook
his guest’s supper, so my poor host pawned some of the last
articles of his furniture (including his poker, which fetched a
halfpenny) to procure a supper. Next day was Sunday, and
being very tired, I remained at home with my friend, old 8.
He was a singular old man; he had seen better days, and had
manners worthy of a gentleman, but now, alas! he was struggling
to support existence as a journeyman tailor. He was very
loquacious, and, being an astrologer, he cast my horoscope and
told me my fortune. He was a bit of an antiquary also, and
said that this narrow lane, St Clement Danes, was so called from
the Danes, when they invaded England, landed from the Thames,
and entered London through this street. On Monday my adven-
tures were brought to an abrupt termination, for, proceeding to
Tower Hill and inquiring at the Naval Rendezvous, with a
swagger, for a billet on board a man-of-war, the landlord, who
had been put on the look-out by my friends, immediately pinned
me, and carried me back in triumph in his gig to Coombe
Wood. As I afterwards learned, old S. was very unhappy at my
not returning. Some days after my father saw him. He had
not even ventured to examine a small bundle which I had tied
MEMOIR. 11
up in a handkerchief, which, by-the-bye, contained a bible, a map
of England, a telescope, and a pocket compass! Worthy old
8. lived about five years after this, and proved himself a most
worthy object of charity. I remained at Coombe Wood till the
Christmas holidays, when I returned to Rose Lodge, and this
was the only year that I ever was at school.
1839, January 17.—I was appointed as volunteer first class
(now called Naval Cadets) to the ‘Zebra, a brig of 16 guns,
fitting out at Sheerness. A few days after I was swaggering
about in my uniform and dirk, and went down to join my ship.
Captain P. of the ‘Howe’ enrolled me in the service, and taking
me by the arm and giving me a shake, said, “Ah, there’s
some beef in this boy!” This was meant as a compliment. I
was then examined by the schoolmaster to see if I was qualified
to enter. The questions were to write from dictation, “I have
joined H.MLS. ‘ Zebra,” and this rule of three, “If one bushel
costs 10s., what will ten bushels ?”
In February we sailed for the Mediterranean. I was ap-
pointed mid of the fore-top and of the jolly-boat. The first time
I went aloft the captain hailed me to go through the “lubber’s
hole;” however, I succeeded in surmounting the difficulties of
getting over the futtock shrouds, and at the end of my watch,
when I went below, the captain’s steward came with a pound of
gingerbread “for going aloft so well.” While the ‘Zebra’ was
fitting we were hulked on board the ‘Shannon,’ the remains of
the ship which was so celebrated in the American War under
Captain Broke. She was a very little frigate. Captain Broke
was one of the first to improve the practice of naval gunnery,
12 MEMOIR.
and it was this probably that enabled him to beat the
‘ Chesapeake.’
Broke must have been previously known as a brave man, for a
fo’castle ditty made at the beginning of the war contained these lines,
“ And as the war they did provoke,
We'll pay them with our cannon ;
And the first to do it shall be Broke,
In the gallant ship the ‘Shannon.’ ”
After touching at Gibraltar, we proceeded for Malta, encoun-
tering a tremendous gale off Cape Bon. We were scudding under
close-reefed maintopsail and foresail, and shipped a tremendous
sea. The brig, being an old-fashioned, deep-waisted vessel,
retained a great body of water within her bulwarks; for a few
seconds she remained as if stunned by the blow, her lee gunwale
completely below water, and her yardarms touching the sea. It
was a very critical moment; but gradually the water escaped, she
rose, and again began to labour among the waves. “All hands
shorten sail!” We passed some ships under bare poles. At last
we reached Malta, and anchored in Valetta Harbour, and went
into Dockyard Creek. We found all the squadron here, with
Admiral §. in the ‘Princess Charlotte’ 104. The other
ships composing the Mediterranean Squadron were the ‘ Asia,’
84 ; ‘ Bellerophon, 78; ‘ Belleisle,’ 72; ‘Benbow, 72; ‘Ganges,’
84; ‘Hastings,’ 72; ‘Implacable, 74; ‘Minden, 72; ‘Pem-
broke’ 72; ‘Powerful, 84; ‘Carysfort, 26; ‘Castor,’ 36;
‘Daphne, 18; ‘Dido, 18; ‘Wasp, 18; ‘Hazard, 18; ‘Jaseur,
16; ‘Rodney, 92; ‘Talavera, 72; ‘Vanguard,’ 80.
Steamers—‘ Hydra,’ ‘ Gorgon,’ ‘ Vesuvius,’ ‘ Stromboli,’ ‘ Ache-
ron, ‘ Blazer,’ &e.
MEMOTR. 13
My shipmates in the ‘Zebra’ were particularly kind, gentle-
manly, and agreeable. M‘K. was my particular friend; he
was the beau-ideal of a naval officer, very handsome, exceedingly
lively, with a continual flow of the highest spirits, and a most
excellent seaman. He was a native of Ayrshire; his father was
a colonel, his mother a French nun, whom the colonel rescued
from some Spanish town during the Peninsular War, and married
her. He inherited the good qualities of the Briton with the
vivacity of the Frenchwoman.
Cruising about all the summer and autumn, sometimes with
the fleet and sometimes alone, we visited Sicily, Catania, and
Palermo, the Greek islands, Paros, Smyrna, the Plains of Troy,
Alexandria, &c.
In November I exchanged into the ‘ Bellerophon,’ liner, 78
guns. Changing from the little brig of 16 guns, the ‘ Bellerophon ’
(or Billy rough ‘wn, as she was commonly called) of 78 guns was
a new world to ne. Such a number of messmates, such superior
accommodation and comfort, and so little duty to do! Itisa
great advantage to begin with a small vessel, as one then becomes
accustomed at once to the roughs of the service, and a youngster
learns much more in less time. In the ‘ Zebra’ I was made a top
and boat midshipman at once; in a big ship I should have had
nothing to do for the two first years. In the ‘Zebra’ I was mate
of the watch and kept the log ;* in the ‘ Bellerophon’ I was about
the sixth or seventh officer in a watch, though we were in four
watches instead of three. The captain was an old easy-going man.
1 The log was a large black board four feet long, folding on hinges like a book,
ruled with white paint lines, and was marked with a lump of chalk.—Note by
C. W. Graham.
14 MEMOIR.
1840.—The ‘ Bellerophon’ had a fine smart ship’s company,
but she was in a wretched state of discipline. On Christmas
Day, as we were lying at anchor with the rest of the squadron
at Vourla, the whole ship’s company were drunk, and the noise
of the revelry was so great that the admiral, though lying half a
mile off and more, made a signal for the ‘ Bellerophon’ “ to make
less nowse,” as it disturbed the whole fleet.
In May we were sent to Naples. Our Government had some
dispute with the king relating to the sulphur trade, and we ran
into the Bay of Naples, with our guns loaded and double-shotted,
threatening to bombard the town. This not taking effect, we
went out again, and blockaded the port. We had the assistance
of the ‘Hydra’ steamer, and we captured a great number of Nea-
politan ships and sent them as prizes to Malta. One day, while
we were on this service, we spied a little brig, hull down, on the
horizon. We immediately gave chase. As soon as the brig saw
that she was chased she altered course and made all sail to
escape. She sailed very well, and we observed that she was also
much better handled than the other Italian traders that we had
previously taken. It was a whole forenoon before we came within
range of her, and then we fired a shot across her bows. The only
effect it had was to make her run up her white Neapolitan ensign
as if in defiance. The chase still continued, and we repeatedly
fired at and over her, till at length, as we rapidly closed with
her, she reluctantly shortened sail and hove to. At this time
our ship was bowling along under an immense cloud of canvas,
and we swooped down upon the little brig like a gigantic eagle
upon a partridge. We were cracking on stu’nsails alow and
MEMOIR. 15
aloft. In a moment the hands were turned up. “Shorten
sail!” “Every man at his station.” “Trip up the lower stu’n-
sails!” “Lower away!” “Rig in your booms!” And the vast
expanse of stu’nsails were rapidly folded in, the ship’s speed
gradually decreased, till at length, with the maintopsail laid
aback, she remains stationary, though pitching and tossing over
the waves like an impatient courser curvetting and plunging
when he is reined in by his rider. In the meanwhile, though,
where’s the brig? We had shot nearly a mile beyond her, and
in the bustle of. the moment no one had been watching her
motions. She had turned her head inshore, and was crowding
all sail to get within the range of the land batteries’ guns.
However, we were not long in following her, and a good shot
from the bow-guns tore off one half of her maintop-gallant mast,
and she was again reduced to surrender herself. We were sur-
prised on nearing her to see the crew all dressed in blue and
white in the man-of-war fashion, as well as their smartness aloft,
and we soon discovered that the brig had already been taken by
the ‘ Hydra,’ and the mid who had been put in charge of her had
been leading us this long wild-goose chase for his own private
amusement. Our captain, of course, was very angry, but he let
him go with a slight reprimand. I believe he got off so well
from the captain’s admiration of his adroitness.
At last the sulphur question was settled, and we went into
Naples Bay, where we remained at anchor for about a month.
Our ship was continually crowded with visitors, and regattas,
balls, and parties, on board and ashore, succeeded one another in
rapid succession.
16 MEMOIR.
Visited Pompeii, Herculaneum, and went to the bottom of
the crater of Mount Vesuvius. We also took the ship round
to Bahia Bay, a very pretty place, with a great number of
temples. Thence we went to Malta, passing through the Straits
of Messina. Becalmed for a night off Mount Stromboli,
which was flaming and bellowing loudly. Visited Rhodes and
Alexandria, where I saw old Mehemet Ali, a white-haired old
patriarch, mounted on a mule, riding through the streets of his
capital with little ceremony.
In September the British fleet commenced active operations
in aid of the Sultan against his rebellious vassal Mehemet Ali.
That very clever man, having raised the character and efficiency
of the Egyptian troops by introducing European discipline and
the assistance of European officers, was much more than a match
for the Turkish army. The Egyptians, under the command of
Ibrahim Pacha (son of Mehemet Ali), a very brave soldier, had
driven the Turks completely out of: Palestine, and no doubt that
if it had not been for foreign interference they would have forced
their way to the walls of Constantinople, and there have enforced
the demands of Mehemet Ali.
The greater part of the Turkish fleet had deserted and gone
to Alexandria to join the pacha. Our naval instructor met some
of the native officers on board this fleet who had been at Ports-
mouth under his instruction. The remainder of the Turkish
fleet was under the command of Admiral Walker, a captain in
the British navy. The Egyptian ships, though well manned and
equipped, never ventured out of the port of Alexandria.
Operations commenced at the ancient town of Beyrout.
MEMOIR. 17
Upon the 11th of September the fleet anchored there, consisting
of several line-of-battle ships, besides smaller vessels and two
Austrian corvettes. At about 1 P.M. they opened fire upon the
town. Broadsides were poured without ceasing into its walls
until long after dark. A small vessel was coming into the
harbour at the time, and her officers described the scene as being
very grand. The silvery light of the moon, sleeping upon the
white minarets and mosques of the devoted town, contrasted with
the red lurid flashes of fire issuing from the black hulls ; above hung
a dark, black pall of sulphurous smoke, which was occasionally
cleft by the meteor-like rockets thrown up by the Austrians.
The town made little or no return to our fire. The troops
retired for safety into cellars and bomb-proof buildings. In the
morning we found the town in ruins, though the houses escaped
being utterly destroyed owing to the softness of the stone, which
allowed the shot free passage without being shattered.
As the town did not yet surrender, and it not being thought
safe to land in consequence of the great force of the enemy within
the town (and from our mastheads we could see a large camp
behind the town), so firing was still continued at intervals when-
ever any movement was seen. There appeared to be a storehouse
of some kind which they were very anxious to reach to carry off
its contents; to reach it, however, the soldiers had to walk a
short distance exposed to our shot, which always stopped any
attempt of the kind. At night they had no better fortune, for
the moment a light was observed moving in that direction a
volley of shot extinguished it. An old Turk, who had apparently
charge of this depdt, certainly deserved credit for his perseverance
18 MEMOIR.
at his post. The ships having nothing particular to fire at, the
guns’ crews of the various ships vied with one another in hitting
some particular mark to prove their skill in aiming. This door
happened to attract notice, and so many shots were directed
against it. At last one pierced it, bursting it open at the same
time. Upon this the old custodian came, and after looking out
as if to see who had knocked, he shut the door and retired.
This happened several times, till at last a shot came and knocked
the door all to atoms, upon which the porter for the last time
presented himself, and finding that his occupation was gone,
calmly walked away from the spot.
pass without being ===
insulted. They
pursue the small .
Hawks with great
venom _
occasionally met with
‘_ their bones and carcases.
== occasion I picked up a fine
Buzzard, only a few hours dead,
Does
met with his death there was not sufficient evidence
to prove, but I was tempted to return a verdict of wilful murder
against some Hoody or Hoodies unknown.
I was disappointed in my expectations of getting Widgeon
on the north-west parts of Mull, as they had got very shy since
the fine weather set in, though I saw some large flocks floating
about the lochs, but keeping far out of range, even of swanshot.
The only good fortune I had was while rowing through the Sound
of Ulva, where I saw a party of three Great Northern Divers
64 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
very busy fishing, and calling to one another with loud hoarse
shouts. I rowed up close to one, and fired a charge of No. 7
into him at thirty yards, and, without stopping, held on in the
direction of his consort, who had dived at the report, but rose
again close to the boat, and another shot stretched her on her
back. The third was not much scared, but would not let me
approach him, and I was not very anxious to pursue him. These
are very large birds, and they weigh, I am sure, fourteen pounds
each, though I have not weighed them yet. The skin of one is
very little hurt, which J] will try to preserve; they are only in
their plain winter garb.
Immediately after meeting with these great monsters, I found
myself surrounded by the other extreme of the family of Colym-
bide—namely, three most minute little Dabchicks, or Grebes.
Their activity utterly set my shooting at defiance; and, with a
heavy boat deeply laden with ballast, I could not attempt
pursuing them till they were fatigued, which is the only mode of
LETTER VI. 65
getting them. I remembered your inquiries about Grebes; but
as there are a few in our neighbourhood, in Mull, I intend to take
a light punt to pursue them with, and so I will defer making any
remarks concerning them till after this opportunity of studying
their habits. Yesterday, in returning home from an expedition,
my mate and I had to pull the entire distance, twenty-five miles ;
which gave us hard work from two p.m. till ten, besides a walk
of ten miles over the hills in the morning.
VIL
Tona, 25th March 1852.
THe LonG-TAILED Ick Duck (Harelda glacialis).
THis bird comes to Jona in the early part of November, when
there appears a small flock of a dozen or so, which takes up its
station off the northern coast of the island. These are gradually
reinforced during the frosts and severe weather of December and
January by fresh arrivals which are driven in from the sea, and
from their more unsheltered haunts, till at last a very great
number are assembled in the bay. Towards the end of March
this large flock begins to break up into pairs and small parties ;
many go away; and when the weather keeps fine they make long
excursions, and for days the bay is quite deserted—not a Long-
tail is to be seen. A change of weather, however, will still bring
them back, and a smart gale would assemble a considerable flock
66 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
of them, and this as late as the second week in April; but after
this time you see them no more. Thus we have them with us for
about four months. They arrive with the first frown of winter,
and depart with the earliest blink of summer sun. The Northern
Hareld brings ice and snow and storms upon its wings; but as
soon as winter, with his tempestuous rage, rolls unwillingly back
before the smile of advancing spring, to his Polar dominions, the
bird follows in his train; for no creature revels more amidst the
gloom and rage and horrors of winter than the Ice Duck.
The change which takes place in the appearance of these
birds during the latter part of their stay is very striking. In
winter you see the flocks of Long-tails far off, twinkling like
bright white stars upon the blue waves; but late in spring they
become so dark that at a short distance they look very black.
Last year they remained so late as the 18th of April; and I had
an excellent opportunity of watching a party of them on that day.
I was looking down upon them from a small eminence with a
glass; and sometimes they came almost within reach of shot, so
that I was able to examine them nearly as well as if they were
actually in my hand. They seemed to be in full summer plumage.
The males a fine deep black, something reddish about the wings
when the sun caught them; curious little white caps upon their
heads, and a patch of white visible behind the thigh. The females
were dark brown. I got one of these, though I did not succeed
in getting a male. The first time that I saw my old friends in
their new costume I did not recognise them, and I was puzzled to
know who they were ; but at this meeting I was set at ease at once,
as they were the first to speak, and then I recognised their voice,
LETTER VI. 67
.
The cry of the Long-tailed Duck is very remarkable, and has
obtained for it the Gaelic name of Lach Bhinn, or the Musical
Duck, the most appropriate name for them; for when their voices
are heard in concert—rising and falling—-borne along upon the
breeze between the rollings of the surf, the effect is musical,
wild, and startling. You look around in vain to discover whence
the mysterious strains proceed. “Ah!” you exclaim, “ sometimes
the fishermen take their bagpipes out with them to cheer their
toil while rowing. But no; no boat could live among those terrible
breakers, and nothing is in sight all round the murky horizon.
Surely, then, I am listening to a band of Tritons and Naiads, whose
music thus mingles with the splashing of the waves, to which the
intermissive roar of the surf forms a fitting bass!” The united
ery of a large flock sounds very like bagpipes at a distance, but
the cry of a single bird when heard very near is certainly not so
agreeable. On the occasion I just mentioned I took great pains
to learn the note; and the following words are the nearest
approach that can be given of it in writing; it articulates them
very distinctly, though in a musical, bugle-like tone :—Our, 0, wu,
-ah! our, 0, u,ah/ Sometimes the note seems to break down in
the middle, and the bird gets no further than our, or ower, which
it runs over several times, but then, as with an effort, the whole
ery is completed, loud and clear, and repeated several times, as if
in triumph. At this time they were busily feeding, diving in
very deep water on a sandy bottom, and calling to one another
when they rose to the surface.
I never saw these Ducks come very near the shore; perhaps
this is partly owing to the bay which they frequent having shores
68 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
”
which they could not approach easily, as there is usually a heavy
surf breaking upon them. I have frequently watched them at
night, to see if they would come into any of the creeks, but
they never did; on the contrary, after dusk they would often
leave the bay; the whole of them would fly off simultaneously in
the direction of the mainland
for some well-known feeding ground.’ I have often seen them
actively feeding in the day-time, though more generally they are
floating about at rest or diverting themselves. They are of a
very lively and restless disposition, continually rising on the wing,
flying round and round in circles, chasing one another, squattering
along the surface, half-flying, half-swimming, accompanying all
these gambols with their curious cries. When the storms are at
their loudest, and the waves running mountains high, then their
glee seems to reach its highest pitch, and they appear thoroughly
LETTER VI. 69
. i a .
to enjoy the ki confusion. When
watching them on one of these occa- res
sions, I had to take shelter under a rock from a
dreadful blast, accompanied by very heavy snow,
which in a moment blotted out the whole land-
scape; everything was enveloped in a shroud of G
but from the midst of
there arose the trium-
mist and driving sleet ;
the intense gloom
phant song of these wild creatures, rising
. of the elements ; and
_ Lifted, 1 beheld.
above the uproar
when the mist
the whole flock
70 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
the bay as if mad with delight. When feeding over some seaweed-
covered bank, the whole party disappear, and rise again together.
I have examined the contents of their stomachs, but found
nothing but half-digested seaweed and great quantities of shell-
sand, and pieces of coralline.
I have always found them a very difficult bird to shoot. I
never could get a sitting shot at them, though I have tried every
method of approaching them—running down upon them under
sail, rowing to them, or drifting in a minute punt. I have had
most success by coming in upon them from the sea in a small
boat. They invariably take wing when you get within from a
hundred yards to a quarter of a mile. The moment you hear
their music begin loudly to sound, drop your oars, seize your gun ;
there you see the large flock rising like a black cloud off the
water. Now they fly in a long straggling body to windward—
there they turn !—-here they come—look out! The main flock
passes by out of shot; never mind, here’s a small party coming
straight for us; in a moment they are whistling past the boat
with the swiftness of shot; no time for a poking aim; bang!
hurra !—there’s a pair of them. Load again; that shot has
broken up the large flock, and small bodies are flying about in
all directions; you will soon get another shot; after that they
will probably fly out to sea. This is a fortunate day; but I
have often had the mortification of seeing them all fly off to sea
without obtaining a single shot at them.
From the various plumage of the male, female, winter, summer,
young, and adult, there is a wonderful variety exhibited wherever
many of these birds are congregated,
VII.
Jona, 5th April 1852.
As to D’s remarks about the Petrels’ burrows being made by
Rabbits, this may be a mere inaccuracy on his part; or it is very
possible that the Petrels take advantage of rabbit holes when
they occur upon their breeding stations, as the Puffins and
Shieldrakes, I believe, do; though among our islands these are
obliged to make holes for themselves, as there are no Rabbits to
assist them. The Stormy Petrels’ holes at Soay have, exteriorly,
very much the appearance of rabbit burrows, but, on excavating,
the resemblance ceases; there would scarcely be room for a
Rabbit to conceal his whole body in one. The entrance, though
wide, extends but a very slight depth below the surface of the
ground; it immediately contracts into one or two very small
passages, only capable of affording ingress to such a diminutive
creature as a Mouse or Petrel. These large entrance halls seem
to be of great age, overgrown with moss, and the small galleries
seem more recently made, or at least re-bored.*
Last year I found a Wheatear’s nest formed in the entrance,
while the back premises were tenanted by two pairs of Petrels,
who must have been forced to walk over the Wheatear’s back
whenever they came out. None of our small islands contain
Rabbits, but if they were once introduced they would thrive and
multiply wonderfully. A small rocky islet off the town of
1 See remarks in footnote at p. 47, antea,—Ep.
72 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Tobermory, called Calve Island, was thought to be turned to some
account by a former proprietor, who stocked it with Rabbits of a
superior breed. In the course of time these so destroyed the
pasture that a later proprietor wished to get rid of them; but
they utterly defied all his efforts to extirpate them. Rabbits are
abundant in Iona now, yet the man is still alive who introduced
the first pair into the island. Hares were also very recently
introduced into Tiree island. I have frequently met with Hares
upon little islets a quarter of a mile from the mainland, which
they must of course have reached by swimming; but Rabbits,
I think, never take to the water, even for the shortest distance,
though they frequent the seashore for the sake of seaweed.
There are some tempting islands hardly a gunshot from the
mainland of Iona, which are never visited by Rabbits.
Most of the small islets and rocks within a moderate distance
of the coast are infested by rats, which subsist upon the shell-
fish, crabs, birds’ eggs, &c. Fortunately these rascals have not
reached Soay; it is too far out for them, clever swimmers as
they are. If they once get a' footing there, they will quickly
banish Petrels and every other bird from nesting there more.
I was often disappointed during the egg season, when searching
for sea-fowls’ eggs, to find many promising-looking rocks un-
tenanted ; but I soon discovered that the cause of it was the rats
had penetrated to them, and the birds instinctively avoided these
spots. A few days ago my terrier turned a rat out of a hole in
the sand, and being hard pressed, it boldly jumped into a small
pool of water, diving immediately. The water being clear, I
could see him distinctly swimming about near the bottom, exactly
LETTER VIL. 73
like an Otter in miniature. I was 2
very much surprised at his power of endurance.
Whenever he rose towards the surface, he saw
suspended over the spot where he was about to.
rise, and down he would dive again to -
the depths of the pool.
Becoming a little ex-
hausted at last, the dog
dived down after him and killed:
him. You meet with rats H
the most out-of-the-way
situations. I have taken thenr
in traps set for birds among the
hills, and once upon a small island in the middle of a loch. The
island is quite bare, and not larger than a table; so he must have
swum out there on a voyage of discovery.
A few months ago I took a Mallard in a trap, as he was
frequenting a spot where I could not get near him. When he
made, in due time, his appearance at table, we found several grains
of No. 3 quite inside his body, which
seemed to have been
_ there a
74 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
long time; yet he was in excellent condition. That was an
unlucky bird, yet I pity more the poor fellow who lost him, and
perhaps accused himself of having missed a fine shot. I have
sometimes got birds (as a Pigeon, Golden Plover, or Dunlin Sand-
piper), with only one leg; that is to say, they seemed to have
lost one foot, or else were naturally deformed; but these were
always in as good condition, and as fat, as their companions, who
had the advantage of possessing a proper assortment of legs.
The winter before last I caught a Gannet which had one leg
diseased in a very curious way; it was swollen to more than
double the natural size, and was full of dark-coloured blood.
He swam in from the sea, and walked up on to the rocks, where
he allowed himself to be taken without attempting to resist.
On Saturday I shot a pair of Teal upon a small loch in Iona,
which reminded me of an adventure I had there a long time ago,
and which I mention :—I had shot a nice little Drake Teal in the
middle of the loch, which I was very desirous to get, as I wished to
take a drawing of him; but having no dog, J stripped and went in
after him. The water was not beyond my depth, but the bottom
was very soft, oozy mud, which held one’s feet as firmly as the
stocks, while all around the water was filled with a tangled mass
of aquatic plants, which closed about one’s limbs like a strongly-
woven net; and there I hung like a fly in a cobweb, floundering
about like Milton’s Satan in chaos. It was a very long time
before I could extricate myself, and I was very nearly sticking
there for good; however, I secured my bird, but resolved not to
be without a dog in future, as such places are excessively
dangerous.
LETTER VIL. 75
The dog I have used since is a Skye terrier, a small bluish-
grey one, which takes the water well; his feet are as webbed as
those of an Otter, and his small size and his colour resembling
that of the rocks, render him almost invisible—a great advantage
when stalking or waiting for birds. Being accustomed to the
boat, I find him sometimes useful; when he sees birds upon the
water he makes a decided
point, sometimes before
z = “i
‘I can detect them, especially
~ when rowing alone in a punt,
when of course one’s back is turned on everything that may
be ahead.
Another very necessary part of one’s equipment is a glass of
some kind. I formerly used a small telescope, but I have long
given up carrying that, it being so cumbersome, and involving
so much time, trouble, and the use of both hands every time it is
looked through. A small single-barrelled opera-glass is far more
76 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
useful, as it may be fixed at the right focus, and so can be pulled
out of the pocket, and used by the left hand alone, while the gun
may still be retained in the other. A glass of this kind will of
course not command such a long range as the telescope, but they
are made of very considerable power, sufficient at least for most
occasions. It is very useful for detecting birds upon the water,
when one is boating, or for discovering them among rocks, or
among reeds and cover; and by twilight it is superior to the
telescope, as it contains fewer glasses, and does not consequently
absorb so much of the light.
The Ravens have got their new nest in the locality I expected
they were going to adopt. Here, in a high cliff, they have taken
up their residence in an old nest formerly built by a Peregrine,
but since tenanted by Hooded Crows. The nest being ready
built, it only required a fresh lining. The place, I think, is totally
inaccessible ; however, I may sacrifice one of the old birds for the
sake of its skin, should it be wanted.
I have got two more Black Guillemots’ skins for you which
exhibit the changes the plumage undergoes between winter and
summer. The Wheatear arrived here on the 21st of March.
Last Saturday, the 3rd of April, I found a Rock Dove’s nest
containing young ones, which is unusually early.
VIII.
Towa, 10th April 1852.
THE Rock Dove (Columba livia).
THE Wood Pigeon is unknown upon our rocky woodless shores,
but its absence is compensated for by great numbers of a smaller
species—the Rock Dove.
The granite cliffs on the south of Mull, the basaltic crags of
Staffa, and lofty precipices of trap rock upon the adjacent islands,
are all perforated by innumerable caverns of every imaginable
size and shape, from the well-known majestic Hall of Fingal,
resounding with the sullen booming of ever-rolling waves, down
to the little fairy grotto, whose cool white shell-sand is scarce
dimpled by the sparkling ripples of the sheltered sea. Some of
these caves are grand and of lofty dimensions, with no floor but
the deep blue water, which heaves to and fro through their huge
frowning portals; others are romantic and picturesque, their rocks
covered with many-coloured lichens, and their dark apertures
fringed with shaggy heather and ivy, amongst which is browsing
a wild mountain goat, with huge horns and beard. But many
more of these caverns are horribly gloomy and forbidding—deep
black dens extending far beyond the reach of the light of day,
stretching into the very bowels of the adamantine cliff. The air
smells dank and foul, and the walls are dripping with unwhole-
some slime. It is dangerous to explore them further without
78
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Hay)
LETTER VIII. 79
striking a light, as you may meet deep holes and black pools of
water; and it is not unlikely but you may see the twinkling eyes
of an Otter peeping out through the gloom. These caves generally
have legends attached to them, such as of fugitive clansmen hiding
from the pursuit of the avenger of blood, of wholesale deeds of
murder, or of wild scenes of diablerie; and the names of the
Cave of Death, the Pit of Slaughter, and the Hobgoblin’s Den are
often met with, and human bones actually are often discovered in
them.
These haunts of bygone murderers, smugglers, and outlaws
are now only tenanted by Doves, the emblems of innocence. They
may be seen perpetually flitting in and out, some parties going
off to feed, others returning to rest; a few birds sitting about the
entrance, pluming themselves in the sunshine, or quietly dozing
upon a sheltered ledge of ‘rock. Upon a near approach, the cooing
of the old birds may be heard, together with the querulous peep-
peeping of the young demanding food, and the occasional stir of
wings; but upon any alarm being given, the voices are imme-
diately silenced, the clang and whir of wings reverberate from
the profundity of the cave, and out pours a long stream of snowy
bosoms and silver wings, which swiftly skim along the surface of
the sea, and disappear round the next headland. In Jona alone
(though but a small island) we have as many as nine or ten caves
frequented by Pigeons, and in nearly every island of the Hebrides
there is sure to be one cave called par excellence “ Ua’ Caloman,”
the Pigeon Cave.
I believe this Dove is only found upon the coast, though I am not
aware what attraction the seashore has for it; certainly with us it
80 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
pu: 4 % zi
i Weer seniess
df
LETTER VIII. 81
exclusively inhabits the sea-caves, and never goes far inland. In
the winter I have once or twice seen them sitting upon the rocks at
low-water, but I hardly think they were looking for food. They
feed upon land snails—some small species which at certain times
is found in considerable variety and vast abundance, spread over
the low sandy pastures which skirt the sea.’ The stubbles, the
newly-sown fields, and the stackyards are their principal resorts
for food, and their crops are invariably to be found well distended
with grain, though in winter it is difficult to account for their
getting such good supplies, after the stubbles are picked clean
and the stackyards cleared. They must sometimes go great
distances for their daily food; those which inhabit the small
islands must of course always come to the mainland for their
supply of grain—some a great distance. When a large flock is
suddenly raised while feeding in a cornfield, after wheeling up
in the air, it breaks up into smaller parties, which dart off in
various directions for their homes—some across the seas, others
to the nearer caves.
They seem to be migratory, to a certain extent in quest of
food, at seedtime and harvest, if, as is often the case, the island
crops are a little earlier than those on the mainland. Then our
fields are covered with those petty plunderers, and at night the
caves are filled with roosting birds, which remain about the island
as long as food is very plentiful, and then decamp. I think,
however, that individual birds are a good deal in the habit of
1 See Vertebrate Fauna of the Outer Hebrides. D. Douglas, Edinburgh, 1888,
p. 113. In other districts of greater agricultural merit, however, the Rock Doves
constantly frequent the corn stubbles or barley stubbles of the interior, as at
Tantallon, the coasts of Berwickshire, &c., and in the Orkneys.—Ep,
82 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
frequenting the same localities and roosting in the same cave
until driven off by some cause. I have watched marked birds
doing so; especially last summer, I was observing a large white
male Pigeon, which had evidently escaped from the cot; he took
to himself a little wild mate, and reared a brood in one of the
go
/
caves. I made a duty of destroying his family,
which was easily done, as they
were marked birds; |
oy,
but he
a conspicuous colour, always contrived ~”
to escape. He became very wary from
being pursued, and I remarked that he
always frequented the same cave, till “4 ee
he received a random shot, after which I lost sight
of him for a considerable time; but I found him at last, located
upon the other side of the island, where he remained till his death.
LETTER VIII. 83
The Rock Dove’s nest is
made up of small sticks or
heather, or dried seaweed,
and is lined with dried grass;
the situation selected is any
little ledge or cleft within
the sheltering bosom of a
rocky cavern. The eggs are
two in number, generally pro-
ducing male and female birds.
The time for commencing
their nesting seems rather
variable; this year I found
some young ones already
hatched on the 2nd of April,
while other pairs were only
erecting their nests. They
have several broods in the
year, and their eges may be
found unhatched as late as
September.
It is rather a timid bird
if often shot at, but is by no
means a shy or wary bird;
in the fields the feeding
- flocks may often be openly
aware
LEA BR OS:
©. 4 a faced attempts at stalking
Sma a
~~ approached, or the most bare-
84 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
them will succeed. In the breeding season the hen will sit on
the nest till approached, and never deserts it though often dis-
turbed, and her nest and eggs handled. She does not always seek
for inaccessible ledges to build her nest on, but takes any spot which
offers, sometimes even the very floor of the cave.’ If her eggs
are taken out, she will probably replace them; and if her young
are taken when half-fledged, she seems glad to get them so soon
off her hands, and at once prepares for rearing her second brood.”
The young birds instantly become quite tame and reconciled to
hand feeding; indeed, as they grow up, their impertinent bold-
ness becomes rather troublesome. They readily take to the
dovecot, and pair with the tame Pigeons; even with fancy
breeds, such as Fantails, &. If a pair of real wild ones breed
in confinement, their progeny at once show signs of diverging in
colour from the natural uniform of their wild ancestry; the
young birds are of a dark slate-colour in their first plumage,
though they have the same markings as the adult birds. The
male is recognised from his mate by a slight superiority of size,
and more lustrous plumage.
In a gastronomic point of view these Pigeons are one of the
most valuable kind of birds which frequent our coasts; they are
nearly always fat and in good condition, are numerous and always
to be procured ; besides, being fed constantly upon our barley and
oats, one can feel no compunction in levying a tribute upon them
in return.
1 This is different from most of our experience.—Ep.
? This appears as a new consideration for Members or Directors of the Asso-
ciation for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, who prosecute for taking young
birds for scientific purposes.—ED.
LETTER IX. 85
They are easiest shot while feeding abroad in the fields; at
the caves a shout will cause them to fly out, but with such
suddenness and swiftness that it requires something of a
Battersea Pigeon-shooter’s knack to succeed in hitting them
quick enough. An indifferent shot (after knocking over one or
two which may be incautiously napping on the outer ledges) had
better conceal himself either in a cave or in a good position above
it; in a short time a bird is sure to come darting swiftly for its
accustomed haunts, but upon catching a glimpse of a lurking foe,
he stops his rapid career, flutters his pinions for a moment,
uncertain what to do; that momentary indecision is fatal—down
he falls! while a roar as of a voleano bellows along the vaulted
roof, and the cave is filled with wreaths of sulphurous smoke.
Writing from Iona I must not conclude without reminding
you of the name of our patron saint, St Columba, the Dove that
first brought to this land the olive branch of mercy.
TX.
Iona, 14th April 1852.
Last Saturday (the 10th), being a very fine day, I and a young
friend paid a visit to Soay to see what the feathered world was
about. We did not meet with much life on our way; the winter
birds have mostly left, and the summer ones have not yet arrived
G
86 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
in sufficient numbers to supply the vacancy; besides which the
fine weather keeps them out at sea. We saw a string of Shear-
waters (Pufinus anglorum), flying in a flock of about a dozen;
this is their first appearance this year. We also saw a few Solan
Geese (Sula alba), diving and plunging; their appearance here is
a sign that they are on their way to their breeding stations. We
were disappointed in our hope of finding Geese on the island,
though they seem to have been very numerous there recently.
On exploring a cavern, from which we procured several broods
of young Rock Doves (Columba livia) last year, we found, as we
expected, a nest. The cave is of very great depth, but so narrow
as scarcely to allow a person to reach the inner extremity. There
we found the nest, made upon the ground, among the shingle,
exteriorly formed of dry seaweed, and inside lined with sea-pink.
It contained a pair of fresh eggs; there was a third lying out-
side the nest, which the birds seemed to have eaten; it was empty,
with only one small hole broken in it, so we took possession of
the three eggs in your name.
While returning we met with several Black Guillemots (Uria
grylle). I took a couple and found them to have completely
assumed their summer plumage, though it has not yet acquired
the brilliancy it possesses in the breeding season. I was about
to shoot another which had rather a peculiar appearance, his body
being quite black as in summer, while his head and neck retained a
great deal of the grey; but there happened to be a pair of Hider
Ducks (Somateria mollissima) at a short distance, and though we
could not have got within shot of them, yet I did not wish to
1Or possibly eaten by a rat,—Ep,
LETTER IX. 87
disturb them, as I hope they may make their nest upon Soay, or
one of the surrounding rocks.
As we were rowing along under the cliffs at the southern
extremity of Iona we saw a
y
H
|
“‘curious-looking bird ahead, which, on
nearing, we recognised to be a Long-tailed Duck (Harelda glacialis).
He was evidently a straggler, and very tame, allowing the boat
to come almost within shot of him before taking wing. I
88 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
happened to have a cartridge in the gun, which I sent after him,
and happily bowled him over. It is an adult male, acquiring his
summer plumage, which gives him a curious mottled appearance.
I have kept his skin in the same manner as the last, and it will
be interesting to compare it with the full winter dress. The
black spot on the neck is expanding and spreading over the
whole neck and breast, till it meets at the black portion of the
body. The white shoulder patch and long scapulars have dis-
appeared, and are replaced by shorter red and black feathers.
The only part which is imperfect is the tail; the long feathers
have been cast, and the summer tail has not yet replaced them.
Of course it was too early to look for Petrels yet; so this was
the whole produce of our voyage, unless I add the lid of some
poor sailor’s chest, which we picked up as it was drifting in from
the ocean. It bore an almost illegible name, Peter B , much
overgrown with barnacles; but there were marks, slightly burnt,
as if from a pipe having been frequently knocked out on them,
which I much fear was finally extinguished in the salt-water
waves, along with its owner.
The Choughs have been for some days back busily engaged
carrying wool into their cave, and the last time I passed near
them the pair attacked me furiously, alighting within twenty
yards, scolding with all their might; their wings, half-expanded,
quivering with wrathful emotion, their bills wide open, and their
heads lowered near the ground, as they threw out their shrill
ear-piercing screams,
Lorn, 1s¢ May 1852.
Iv is possible that I shall leave this note with my own hands at
your address in Glasgow, accompanied by a small box containing
a pair of Red-legged Crows, one skinned and the other simply dis-
embowelled and embalmed in the style of an Egyptian mummy.
They are remarkably small specimens, and I do not think they
were nesting, as I watched them for several days; however, they
are male and female.
My own particular friends, as I mentioned in my last letter,
had completed their labours of nidification, and I supposed that
they would immediately commence laying and hatching; but I
was much concerned to see them very rarely near their nest, and
I picked up some wool (apparently the lining of the nest) upon
the floor of the cave. Determined to examine it, I contrived to
hoist myself up to the spot with the assistance of a boat’s anchor
and cable. The nest, beautifully woven of heather sprigs, was
unlined and empty. I cannot account for this misfortune ; how-
ever, the old birds still haunt the vicinity of the cave, and
furiously resent any intrusion near it; and possibly they may
make another attempt at nesting this year.
I also send you a few Hooded Crow's eggs; these were
replaced by a pair of Bantam’s eggs daubed with indigo, only one
Crow’s egg being left. In due time the little Hoody made his
90 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
appearance, and two days after the young Bantams saw the light.
The old Crow nursed the two little chickens with the same tender-
ness that she showed towards her own little savage imp; there
they were, like Romulus and Remus,
in the bosom of their rugged
foster-mother. We caitied them away, however, from the ogre’s
castle, fearing that they might some day remark, “ What a great
{ 2
beak you have got, grandmamma !
I intend visiting London, and shall not return to Iona till the
LETTER X. 91
end of June, and consequently I shall be absent the best part of
the egg season.
I shall conclude with a few notes of the month :—
May 1st.—Considerable flocks of Whimbrels arrived. I killed
three couple with great ease, and found them in very good con-
dition, which may be taken as a proof that their last stage was
not a very long or harassing one. These birds continue very
numerous during the whole of May, but as soon as June com-
mences they disappear as suddenly as they arrived. Jona is not
one of their halting-places on their return south, for we are not
visited by them in autumn, except by an occasional straggler.
May 12th.—The Terns and Corncrakes arrived. Their
appearance is so precisely punctual to the day, that I would as
soon date by it as I would by the almanac. The Herring Gull
(Larus argentatus) is with us far more common than the Lesser
Black-backed Gull (Z. fuscus), except at this time of the year,
when great numbers of the latter are seen in all the newly-sown
fields, busily eating the corn among flocks of wild Pigeons and
trespassing poultry. They are at such times extremely wary,
and indeed at all times they appear to be much more so than
the Grey Gulls.
I shall now drop anchor, as I have been out all night in an
open boat—a two-masted skiff, with three reefs in the mainsail,
battling against a heavy sea and head wind blowing very hard.
I landed at five in the morning, well drenched with rain and
spray.
XI
Iona, 20th September 1852.
I REGRET very much that I have entirely lost this season, so far
as ornithological pursuits are concerned, owing to my absence
during the most interesting time—namely, while the birds were
nesting. It is a useless occupation lamenting over lost oppor-
tunities, but I must mention one or two.
A pair of Eider Ducks and a pair of Shieldrakes have success-
fully reared their broods upon Soay Island, and have gone off
with their families unmolested. Another Shieldrake’s nest was
discovered upon one of the Treshnish Isles by a youth connected
with the fishery, and while he was handling the eggs he observed
another hole at the back of the Shieldrake’s nest, and discovered
within it a Shearwater (Pujinus anglorwm) sitting upon her egg.
I lost all these owing to my not being at home.
On the 6th of this month, when on a visit to Staffa, we shot a
number of Guillemots and Razor-bills; they were mostly birds of
the year, and among them was one young Bridled Guillemot (Uria
lachrymans); though in immature plumage, the white line round
the eye was quite distinctly marked, but the bird was too mueh
injured to be preserved. We took away a pair of young Rock
Doves (Columba livia) from Soay, intending to rear them by hand,
as we have often done before; but it happened that a pair of tame
Pigeons had just had their young taken by a cat, and of their
LETTER XI. 93
own accord the bereaved parents immediately took to the two
orphans, and brought them up.
By the last post I forwarded a pair of young Petrels (Zhalassi-
droma pelagica) ; they were taken from Soay on the 8th, and were -
then about a fortnight old, but very —
little advanced, being covered
with a profusion of down, and their legs and wings quite useless.
The old birds were all absent; though we searched every hole,
and dug one hole out to ascertain that they were not skulking at
the extremity of their burrows, we did not succeed in finding one.
The two young captives were placed in a little box, and fed with
94 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
very small bits of fish, crammed down on the end of a little stick ;
they took their food in this manner with great reluctance, but I
soon discovered that they had a great partiality for cod-liver oil,
and would suck a stick dipped in oil very willingly, clattering
their beaks and shaking their heads with evident satisfaction. I
should conclude from this that the Petrels feed their young with
the oil, which they have the power of ejecting from their bills.
The young birds made very rapid progress, and soon became
tired of confinement, and were only pleased when allowed to walk
about upon the table, though they could not rise off their knees.
During the last few days that I had them they became quite
fledged, though still retaining a great deal of wool upon their
bodies; and they also became exceedingly active and restless, and
very much dissatisfied with confinement in the
box. Night and day their
long powerful wings were
in incessant motion in
their attempts to
escape from the
box. As soon
LETTER XI. 95
ere
edge; and then, assisted by their wings and scrambling with their
claws, they hoist themselves up. When upon the top of the box,
they would be satisfied for a little while, shake themselves, and
dress their feathers. The instinctive love of motion, however,
would soon return, and they go off on a voyage of discovery.
They walk with great caution, keeping their heads down, and
using their bills as walking-sticks, hooking hold of any inequality
to assist themselves along, and keeping themselves up, for they
have a constant tendency to topple over on their faces: they also
are of great service to feel their way, for their sight seemed very
imperfect, and their eyes were generally closed. When informed
by the bill that they are arrived at the edge of the table, the
closed eyes open, and an anxious survey is taken of the depth
below; and after considerable preparation and thought, the
hazardous leap is taken, and a short flight performed in safety
96 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
to the floor. These little birds seemed to have an irresistible
instinct which led them to attempt to surmount every obstacle
which fell in their way. When walking on the table every book
and desk must be climbed by means of the hooked bill, with the
assistance of claws and pinions. In an angle they would try to
shuffle up with their elbows as chimney-sweeps used to climb up
chimneys; and when upon the floor I have noticed them striving
for a considerable time to ascend the wall of the room.
On the whole they were very amusing and interesting pets,
and I hoped to have reared them, but they were very sensitive to
cold. One morning I found them both stiff and apparently life-
less, but the fire recovered them. Last Saturday night, however,
was a wintry night; it hailed, and the north wind blew hard;
the high hills were covered with snow, and the spirits of the
Stormy Petrels departed amidst the roaring of the equinoctial
storm. :
Iona, 26th October 1852.
I was disappointed to hear of the Petrels arriving in such bad
condition, as I hoped that the post would have taken them quickly
enough to prevent their being spoiled. I got another young one
from the burrows on the 18th of this month at Soay Island. It
is quite free of down in the upper parts, but underneath he still
retains a considerable amount, giving him the appearance of a
bird sitting in a nest of wool. The pale bar across the wing is
very distinctly marked. THe is very active, and can fly perfectly
well. At night his wings are in perpetual motion during his
endeavours to escape from the box in which he is confined—so
much so that he spoils the appearance of his quill feathers and
tail very much; and so I want to send him off as soon as possible,
though I should like to keep him till he is quite free of down.
I give him a goed deal of liberty, allowing him to ramble about
the table the whole evening, the favourite time of activity. His
habits are similar to those of the pair I last described, except
98 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
that he is stronger, and capable of more extended flights. When
let out of his box he performs a curious exercise—putting his
wings into such rapid motion that they cease to be discernible ;
and although he does not rise into the air, yet he becomes so
buoyant that his feet retain no hold of the slippery surface of
the table, so that he goes sliding about, backwards and forwards,
and round and round, in a very ludicrous manner. This comical
minuet generally terminates by his incautiously approaching the
edge of the table, and disappearing suddenly backwards.
If you take him up in your hand he always runs up your arm
with great swiftness, fanning with his wings till he attains your
shoulder or head; this is in accordance with his instinctive pro-
pensity to scramble up every obstacle he meets, and never to rest
until he has attained the highest elevation within his reach;
when this is done he rests contented for a short time, and then
throws himself off into the air. I have fed this one almost
exclusively on cod-liver oil, which it takes off the end of a
feather. Huis ordinary position when at rest is kneeling down,
the tail half-expanded, and the wings very much crossed over
the back. He generally shuffles about upon his knees, and can-
not easily retain his position erect upon his feet without the
assistance of his wings.
I envy you very much the fine engravings that you are pro-
curing. I prefer a really good accurate portrait of a bird to the
finest mounted specimen, and a collection of the first has such
great advantages of portability and durability that I would sooner
possess it than a collection of real specimens. However, this is a
matter of taste, and depends very much whether one remains in a
LETTER XII. 99
permanent house or not. For my part, I do not intend finally to
set up my staff until I have trudged about a little while longer.
As to the quadrupeds of Iona, the list is so short that they
are scarcely worthy of much notice.
The Common Shrew (Sorex araneus') is found, though not
numerous. I was going to say that Bats never were seen in
Iona, but I recollect on one single occasion, while waiting at a
Pigeon cave, after dusk, seeing a solitary Bat flitting about the
mouth of it. This is the only one I ever saw either in Iona or
in the adjoining part of Mull, though there are numberless dark
caves round these shores. They are very abundant on the main-
land of Argyllshire, in the district called Lorn, opposite to the
Island of Mull.
The Stoat (Mustela erminea) is very common throughout the
island, living in dry stone dykes, or holes under rocks. In one
of these dens, after killing its inmate, I took out the nest which
the little animal had made, consisting of dry grass and seaweed ;
there was also a good collection of small birds’ feathers, and four
or five wings of Ringed Dotterels. These must have been caught
when sleeping on the shore. I have frequently seen the tracks of
the Ermine over the wet sand at low-water. I am not aware
whether or not it is common for these animals to take to the
water; but I had the following anecdote from a humble friend,
who, I believe, could not misrepresent a fact, though he were to
try:—He saw a Stoat watching a flock of young Ducklings
1 More correctly Sorex minutus, which alone occurs in the islands, to the
exclusion of the larger species, which is found on the mainland. Or if the larger
species ever occurs upon the islands, it must be looked upon as the result of
accidental or intentional introduction only.—Ep,
100 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
swimming in a pool, and after some hesitation he plunged in, and
swimming unperceived among them, caught one and brought it
ashore. My friend, the owner of the Ducks, now rushed forward
to resent the liberties taken with his property, not in time to save
the poor Duckling though, as its throat was cut. Accordingly
he threw it in the midden in front of the door (the usual
locality of the dung-heap in the Highlands); the robber having
taken refuge among the stones of a dyke. In a short time he
was surprised to see the defunct Duckling moving away, the
persevering little quadruped having watched what was done with
his prize, and actually returned to appropriate it.
The only quadrupeds remaining to be mentioned are the Com-
mon Rabbit, the Long-tailed Field Mouse, the Otter, and the Seal.
As for the last-named, they are so shy and so rarely to be seen
that one can scarcely make any observation upon their habits.’
I must conclude rather abruptly, as the postman will begin to
indulge in profane expressions, as he is waiting at my elbow.
XIIL
Tona, 22nd November 1852.
I HAVE never seen the Little Auk (Mergulus melanoleucos), so I
suppose it is a frequenter more of the East than of the West
Coast.2 If it ever came near us here, I could not have failed to
have seen or heard of it.
1 For further observations on the Seal, see Letter XXIII.
? Or rather, perhaps, a frequenter more of the open sea than of the land-
locked firths and straits. —Ep,
LETTER XIII. 101
The Heron (Ardea cinerea) is very abundant in winter.
They are very picturesque birds and form a great addition to a
landscape. They roost, when the tide is full, upon some unfre-
quented rocks, where I have sometimes caught them napping.
They have a very grotesque appearance then; a muffled up ball
of feathers stuck upon the end of a single long stick ; the head, one
Skis
leg, and the bill all put almost entirely out of sight, the bare
extremity of the latter alone protruding from among the long
breast feathers.
Last spring I happened to meet with a Heron among the
rocks at low-water, which had apparently received some hurt, as
he flew off with difficulty and alighted again at a short distance.
When I followed him I saw him gradually sink down into a
H
102 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
sitting posture; on my nearer approach his neck was also slowly
lowered down, till it lay along the seaweed. As it was a low,
hollow rock on which he lay, he thus rendered himself almost
invisible, and would certainly never have been noticed by any
one who had not kept his eye steadily fixed on the place. When,
however, I came quite close up to him and he saw that he had
not escaped detection, he sprang up and made a successful effort
to fly off.
A Heron may be eaten cold when it has been sufficiently kept.
Though it is not so good as many other sea fowl, I do not see why
we should be more fastidious than our forefathers, who considered
it “a dainty enough dish to set before a king.” -
The larger Gulls take a special delight in tormenting their
sedate grey friend whenever they catch him soberly traversing
the air, going or returning from his feeding ground. The Gulls
with hoarse cries make repeated swoops, which, frightening the
poor Heron out of his propriety, makes him quickly change the
dignified measured flappings of his great wings for a series of
: uncouth somersaults through the
~ air, by which he tries to escape
their rude attack, at the same
time furiously uttering his
harsh screams, by which
(could we understand the
“ves bird language) he pro-
bably threatens his
‘assailants with “ police pro-
secution and all the terrors of
LETTER XIII. 103
the law!” This |
continues till the Heron alights or is driven + -
far inland, or till the Gulls get tired of the sport.’
I am very sorry to hear of the fate of the Cormorant’s egg.
I put it into too frail a box, and the stamping in the post office
must have broken it. I have forwarded another by a private
hand, but it is not such a fine specimen, as it has been a little
scraped. The natural colour of the Cormorant’s egg seems to be
a sea-green, but they have a rough coating of a dirty white
substance. This was very remarkable upon the egg I sent you
first. I shot the hen and then took the egg, which was the only
one in the nest. Upon dissecting the bird, I feund another egg
just ready for laying of a beautiful pure green colour, with no
white stains on it.
t Edward, the Aberdeenshire naturalist, gives an animated description of a
successful attack by a Carrion Crow and two Hoodies upon a Heron, for the pur-
pose of making him disgorge the food he was taking to his family (Life of a
Scotch Naturalist, Chap. XIII. p. 272). Perhaps the Gulls also attack him with
the object of plunder. What with the fear of highway robbers by land and
pirates by sea, it must be a difficult matter for the poor Heron to know which way
to take.—H. D. G,
104 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
I tried the edible qualities of a Cormorant’s egg, the white of
which (excuse the “ bull”) was of a pale emerald-green, and on
the whole I should not recommend it as a delicacy.
I am not so well acquainted with the Black Cormorant
(Phalacrocorax carbo) as with the green (P. graculus), but I have
frequently seen it in the summer with the white patches fully
developed, and I never observed any to possess crests, though
the feathers on the top of the head are very much elongated.
In the Green Cormorant the crest is a most conspicuous ornament,
visible at a great distance, consisting of several hackle-like feathers
two or three inches long, gracefully curving forward. It is gen-
erally only possessed by the fully matured birds during the
breeding season, but even then many birds that are nesting are
without it; while, on the other hand, I have sometimes seen the
crest quite developed in winter. At this moment I have a fine
skin with a beautiful crest of one which was shot in March.
I forgot, when mentioning our quadrupeds, to notice the fact
of a supposed Greenland Seal having been seen in Loch Scridean,
a long arm of the sea near here. It was in spring that it was
there, and it was several times seen lying upon a rock surrounded
by the sea. A gentleman, who resides in the neighbourhood,
offered a reward of five pounds for its capture, which unfortu-
nately was not effected.
A few days ago I took a little punt up to a large fresh-water
loch, where I had an opportunity of watching some Grebes.
The air was perfectly still, and the surface of the water was like
a sheet of glass. When at a distance from one another the
Grebes called to one another until they met, This cry was a
LETTER XIV. 105
kind of “Creek! creek! creek!” We chased several, which
escaped just as we made sure of their capture, by disappearing
and appearing no more. One went into a bed of reeds, through
which we forced the boat, and succeeded in frightening him out
into the clear water, but when the boat had got within forty yards
of him, he rose upon the wing with great ease and flew clean off
to the other end of the loch.
XIV.
Jona, 23rd November 1852.
THe Biack GUILLEMOT (Uria grylie).
THis is a constant resident around our coasts; in every boating
excursion it may be frequently met with, both in summer and
winter. Perhaps they are rather more numerous in summer, for
then small flocks are to be found clustering around all the more
unfrequented islets, which are haunted by them for the purpose
of incubation. Here during the breeding season they may be
seen in full activity, diving in pursuit of small fry, and flitting
to and fro between their nests and the surface of the water, while
others sit erect, ranged along the rocks overhanging the sea,
gasping out a plaintive wheezing noise, something like the com-
plainings of a set of very young kittens. This seems to be their
only cry, for, except at this time of year, they are entirely mute.
The nests are concealed in all manner of out-of-the-way holes,
under large detached rocks, in deep crevices, or in small caves.
106 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
In general the nest is so far in as to be beyond reach, after the
place of its concealment has been discovered, except with the
assistance of a boat-hook or something similar. I have never
found the number of eggs to exceed two, which have some
resemblance in colour and marking to some of the smaller Gulls’
eggs; but there is a characteristic peculiarity about their appear-
ance which easily distinguishes them from those.
The young are covered with brownish-black down. They will
greedily take bits of fish from the hand soon after their capture,
and may easily be reared.
The plumage of the old birds at this time of the year is black
with a greenish gloss, or rather a perfect bottle-green, beautifully
relieved by the pure white patch upon the wing, and further
enlivened by the brilliantly red feet. The inside of the mouth
is also of a very rich tint of orange. The birds are not all equally
beautiful. Some, probably the hens and younger males, are of a
dull brownish-black, and the white patch on the wing is obscured.
In winter their appearance is totally changed. They are then
to be seen about the coast a little way out at sea, but seldom
coming very near to land. The variety of plumage to be observed
among different individuals is very great, for scarcely two are to
be seen exactly similar. In the depth of winter the whitest ones
are to be got. These are entirely pure white, except the wings,
which remain black as in summer, and a small portion of grey
upon the back connecting them. When seen under this aspect
the appellation of Greenland Dove is much more appropriate than
that of Black Guillemot. But it is only a few that acquire this
degree of purity. The upper parts are generally more or less
LETTER XIV. 107
marked with grey, or sometimes black, while the under parts are
mottled with black and white. Some even retain their black
plumage entirely. The young birds are blackish-brown above
and white underneath. The upper plumage turns to grey as
winter comes on; the white patch on the wing is very much
clouded with black spots, and the legs are of a dull brownish-red.
This Guillemot is a very tame bird and easily shot, as it allows
a boat to approach very near before it takes flight. They seldom
attempt to escape by diving, or, if they do, they probably rise
again within shot. They do not rise very easily off the water,
and their feet often come in contact with the crest of a wave
just as they are rising, when, in spite of all their hurry, the round,
plump little fellows are fairly tripped up, and down they come
souse into the water again head foremost.
The Black Guillemot sits on the shore in an erect position ;
but on the floor of a room they do not seem able to walk.at all,
for while the Common Guillemot stumps about with great activity
and ease, the other crawls about upon his stomach, pushing him-
self along with his legs and wings without trying to stand up.
I may conclude by remarking that the flesh of the Black
Guillemot is much superior to that of the Common Guillemot and
Razor-bill.
' We have notes showing that in some other parts of the Northern Isles the
adult Black Guillemots invariably retain the black plumage in winter.—Ep.
XV.
Iona, 1s¢ December 1852.
IMMEDIATELY after I had despatched my last letter to you I went
out for a short sail and saw several Black Guillemots in various
states of plumage. I shot the whitest, and on examination it
reminded me of what I had forgotten to remark—namely, that the
tail of this Guillemot, like its wings, does not change colour in
winter, but remains black. This is only the case with the tail
feathers, for the upper and under coverts change colour, getting
tipped with grey or becoming actually white.
I also killed a Great Northern Diver (Colymbus glacialis)
weighing between eleven and twelve pounds. The day was very
calm and the water perfectly smooth, My companion and I
LETTER XV. 109
observed a pair of these birds swimming together about two
hundred yards from us, and from two fishing-boats at the same
time, rowing up towards them from the opposite direction. He
accordingly lay quite still. The Divers let the fishing-boat come
within about eighty yards of them and dived with their heads
towards us. Then followed a few seconds of keen excitement,
and the monsters emerged thirty yards the other side of us, having
passed underneath our boat. One dived again the moment it got
its head above water, but the other seemed to be slowly sinking
down in a very curious manner, so that there was nothing appear-
ing but his head when I fired. The splash caused by the shot
subsided and there floated his huge bulk.
We saw several more Great Northern and Black-throated
Divers during this short sail, but had not time to go after them.
They say that the appearance of these birds prognosticates bad
weather. At any rate, it blew a hurricane that night and the
next two days.
As a friend was about going to Glasgow and the weather was
cold, I meant to have sent this Diver to you in the flesh; but
after keeping it safe for some days, a dog got access to it and bit
off its head. I console myself with the thought that it would
not have kept, as my friend would be a long time on the road.
The head was a great size, nearly as large as the Black Guillemot’s
whole body. He was in poor condition and changing his plum-
age. The wings are still spangled with white stars; but on the
back the plumage is mostly greyish-black, though a good many
of the black feathers, with the double white spot at the extremity,
still remain. It is worthy of notice, as showing the manner in
110 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
which they lose these handsome ornaments, that, as one of us
was stroking his hand along the back of the bird, we observed
several of these white spots drop off like flakes from the feathers
of which they formed a part. It was this peculiarity that made
me wish to forward this specimen, and I think I will yet preserve
the skin of what remains.
XVI
Jona, 17th December 1852.
I wILL begin by wishing you a merry Christmas and many happy
returns of this jovial season. Then I will go on to answer one
or two of the inquiries which you made in your last letters,
hitherto neglected by me.
I have made very little progress in my observations as to the
Bridled Guillemot. I only discovered it here last year in the
spring, at which time I obtained two specimens. This summer
I was very little in the way of looking after any birds at all; how-
ever, in autumn I shot “a this year’s bird,” in which the white
mark about the eye was distinctly marked. On every one of
these occasions they were procured along with a lot of Common
Guillemots, from which it was impossible to distinguish them
till actually taken into the boat. On procuring the first one,
being anxious to record the fact of its having been captured on
LETTER XVI. 111
these coasts, we sent the head to Mr Fenton, a bird-stuffer in
Edinburgh. The answer he returned contained a brief note from
Mr Selby, pronouncing it as “that unfrequent bird the Bridled
Guillemot.”
You recollect alluding to the disappearance of the young
birds from the localities where the breeding goes on, especially
—— ae ae .
upon the East Coast, where it is remarked that so few of the
immature birds remain. This does not seem to be the case on
our shores. Here the proportion of immature birds is very much
what you would expect it to be. One thing is to be observed,
however, that the young birds are infinitely more easy of approach
than the old ones, whose cunning and suspicion increase in pro-
portion to their maturity and beauty of plumage. As from a
112 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
gastronomic point of view the young ones are preferable to the
old, and as they are so much more easily procured, he who shoots
for the “pot,” without any regard for the skins, will always have
a very large proportion of the young birds among his game. The
young ones, therefore, obtrude themselves so much more upon
one’s notice than the fine old full-dressed ones, that (here at
least) one would be led to suppose that their number prepon-
derated.
In autumn, when the Curlews and Herons return from their
LETTER XVI. 113
breeding stations, the juveniles fall an easy prey owing to the
confiding simplicity of their youth. These, of course, are easily
distinguished by their smaller size and dull plumage. The same
is the case with other birds which breed upon the spot, such as
Sea-pyets, Pigeons, Gulls, Scarts, &c. In winter the number
of Gulls in their dark-brown plumage is decidedly much greater
than that of the old white ones. This applies to the small and
large species. It is very remarkable in the case of Gulls how
much less sensible of danger these immature birds are than the
elders of the flocks ; the latter will not generally allow themselves
to be approached openly without taking wing, and in their flight
they usually alter their course to avoid danger; but the younger
members are quite heedless of danger. The Herring Gull is the
commonest of the larger birds, though the Black Backs are
numerous too. Nearly all the Cormorants that are killed during
the winter are birds of the year; but this letter is too near its
conclusion to begin to treat of Scarts, so I will leave them till
another opportunity.
XVII
Tona, 27th January 1853.
For many weeks the weather has been so boisterous and wet |
as to be very unfavourable for out-of-door recreations of any
kind, shooting among the rest. These very violent gales sweep
away the birds from our island to the better shelter afforded by
the mainland; consequently I find game very scarce at present.
The continual open soft weather and absence of frost is still more
unfavourable, and the Ducks, Geese, Plover, &c., seem little
inclined to direct annual pilgrimages towards Columba’s sacred
shores.
Some of the late gales have been exceedingly grand. The
dreadful fury of the wind is not to be described. The sea, run-
ning mountains high, threatens to overwhelm the island with its
roaring breakers. The very granite cliffs seem to tremble under
the ponderous strokes of these liquid mountains, as they come
rolling on, crashing into foam, and yeast, and hissing spray with
hideous din, filling the air with thick salt vapour, which, caught
up by the blast, is borne away far inland in dense wreathing
columns, like the smoke from a battlefield. This is truly the war
of elements. Ocean, contending for dominion over terra firma,
pours forth, rank upon rank, its innumerable host of high-bounding
white-maned chargers. See the turmoil, the furious strife, the
maddening confusion! Hear the hoarse shoutings of the leaders !
The hurricane sounds on the charge. The hail pours down its
LETTER XVII. 115
rattling volleys of icy shafts). Heaven waves its sable banners
overhead, and lets loose its dread artillery. The island shakes.
Its deep-rooted bastions of adamant tremble at the shock of the
fierce assaults of the raging billows; but in vain. Thus far shalt
thou come and no farthur, and here shall thy proud waves be
stayed. And beaten, broken, dashed in pieces, and churned into
foam, they successively roll murmuring back submissive to the
eternal decree.
Tona in winter is very favourable for those who love to see
nature in its sublime moods. A storm in a peopled district is
not seen to such advantage. Shattered chimney-pots, swinging
shutters, inverted umbrellas, &c., are not picturesque subjects.
The bleak storm-swept hill, the naked granite rock, and stunted
heather tufts are in keeping with the fury of the storm, which
roars and bellows over its undisputed dominions. The first is
like an over-driven ox creating a clatter in a china shop. The
latter is like the lord of the herd careering over his native plains.
There are not even trees in these islands, and therefore, as Dr
Johnson remarks, “all the noise of the storm is entirely its own.”
The Black and the White Puffins that you mentioned as being
at the museum are a most astounding phenomenon. I have
never seen any peculiarly coloured bird, except a Rock Pipit, which
I picked up dead on a small island. It was nearly white or
cream-coloured. Our talented proprietor, the Duke of Argyll,
who is also an ornithologist, saw it when visiting the island, and
at once mistook it for a Canary bird.
The Woodcock is not numerous here, on account of the want
of proper cover; but it breeds on the opposite coast of Mull,
116 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
At the beginning of the winter we had a great number of
Fieldfares about the hilly sheep pastures. This is quite an
unusual bird here. I never saw it here before. Is the Fieldfare
known to breed in this country ?
Last spring a youthful com-
panion of mine was visiting some iene a few miles from here,
and was invited to look at a nest in the garden belonging to an
unknown bird. He went, and at once recognised a pair of Field-
fares. I examined and cross-questioned my young friend on the
LETTER XVII. 117
subject, and I cannot help feeling satisfied that he was not mis-
taken, as he is well acquainted with all our birds, possesses the
visual powers of the hawk tribe, and is a disciple whose develop-
ment of the sporting faculties bids fair to surpass those of his
patron.
I am obliged to E. K. B. for his corroboration of my state-
ments concerning the friendly terms on which the Choughs live with
the Jackdaws, and in return bear full witness to the truth and
correctness of his description of the grief of the survivor when
one of a pair of Choughs is killed. Three times I have had
occasion to shoot at a Chough, and each time I was obliged to
shoot at its mate also, partly out of pity for her grief and also
because I felt rather ashamed of myself, as she kept close to me,
filling the air with her noisy lamentations and execrations of my
cruelty, impelling me to repeat the deed of blood. If it has
been observed sometimes that the Chough disappears at the same
time as the Jackdaw begins to increase in numbers, may not
this be owing to some change in the character of the locality,
such as extensive agricultural operations and increased population,
which may have the effect of disgusting one bird while it
attracts the other? Thus, I certainly am of opinion that free
trade and opening the ports has brought the Rooks to Iona!
Why, what connection is‘ there between political questions and
ornithology ? Rooks indeed! Why, free trade, &c., only affects
the farmers, not the “ parsons.” Well, Pll tell you. Since the ports
were opened to the importation of foreign cattle, the rearing of
black cattle has been almost abandoned in these parts of the
Highlands; consequently sheep have taken their place, and in
I
118 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Jona, where two years ago you would hardly find a sheep, now
you will see scores of them; and when, two years ago, not a Rook
ever came to the island, now the hill pastures are black with
them.
Possibly the Jackdaws may steal the Chough’s eggs. Some
bird had evidently anticipated me this spring in my visit to the
Red Leg’s nest; however, I suspect the Hoody Crow more than
the Daw, for he is an arrant egg thief. About that very time I
witnessed a controversy between a pair of Sea-pyets and a Hoody
on this very subject. It terminated decidedly in favour of the
latter, as he flew off with the apple—no, the egg—of discord im-
paled on his bill, followed by the frantic shrieks of the two poor
Oyster-catchers. Peep! peep! peep! The Hoody Crow’s mouth
was too full to make a rejoinder.
As to the tameness or wildness of different species of birds,
though certainly some species are instinctively much wilder than
others, yet the degree must be so very much modified by the treat-
ment they receive in various localities that it scarcely admits of
generalisation. Thus, to return to my friends the Rooks, where
they are persecuted by the farmer owing to mistaken notions of
their being injurious, they become so wary that it is impossible
to get within range of them; while here in Jona, where we have
rather patronised them on account of their being strangers, we
have so far won their confidence that they actually come to pick
up crumbs and potatoes thrown from our windows. And so, of
course, with every other kind of bird.
XVIII.
Iona, 20th February 1853.
I REGRET to think that the correspondence that we have so
agreeably kept up for the last year and upwards must soon
meet with a check. I propose leaving Iona for London, and
have a very great inclination to go out to Canada for a visit, or
perhaps for a permanent residence. I have already visited
Lower Canada and been along the coast as far north as Labrador,
and still further in a southern direction. In fact, I can say that
I have killed White Egrets in the West Indian Islands, Pelicans
at Port Royal, and Boobies at the Bahamas; but at that time,
alas! I let pass glorious opportunities of ornithologising. On this
occasion the case will be very different, for I look forward with
delightful anticipations to the prospect of killing, to me, new
races of birds, or the still greater pleasure of occasionally hailing
an old friend—such, for instance, as the Great Northern Diver,
which seems to be identical on both sides of the Atlantic.
Certainly, in future, wherever the locality in which I am east,
there shall I carry with me a love for Natural History, which
will always furnish me with a most agreeable recreation, a solace,
a retirement, a refuge always open to fly to from the accidents or
annoyances of life.
At the present day Ornithology takes its place as a respectable
science, and especially as a popular and pleasing one. Blackwood
remarks :—“ We remember the time when the very word
Ornithology would have required interpretation in mixed com-
120 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
pany, and when a naturalist was looked on as a sort of out-of-
the-way but amiable monster.” Happily the case is very different
at the present day. Nature is more esteemed in this generation.
Some grave author makes the remark that in the time of our
youth we ought to acquire and lay up as great a quantity as
possible of material for agreeable meditation in our old age.
What, then, can serve this purpose more durably than the study
of Nature ?
Naturalists are generally noted for length of days, for con-
tinuing their pursuits with unabating zest till the very last, and
for a spirit of piety, which is naturally induced by looking
through Nature up to Nature’s God.
The day of my departure is not, nor is likely to be, accurately
determined on as yet; for primarily it will depend upon the
weather, and secondarily on when I feel in the vein for getting
under weigh.
Remarks in allusion to the state of the weather form such a
considerable item in the small-talk of every Briton that foreigners,
blessed with a more equable climate, sometimes ridicule us for it.
In Iona, however, the weather is a matter of such important
interest that it is not a mere conventional salutation to remark
upon it; for the business of the day, and even the outgoing of
the post, is decided most arbitrarily by the capricious elements,
the wind, the weather, and the tide.
Since the 7th of this month we have had a remarkable and
unusual frost, both for intenseness and duration, accompanied, for
the most part of the time, with blustering gales from the north
and north-east, which, in spite of the bright sun shining in a
LETTER XVIII. 121
cloudless sky, pierce to the very bone and shrivel up and benumb
the flesh. It brought nothing very unusual, except some Wood-
cocks, Redwings, Fieldfares, and Golden Plovers, which do not
frequent our island except in such cases of emergency; and surely
now they seem very humbled and subdued! The Golden Plovers
were in great number and excessively tame. On their first
arrival the flocks would allow themselves to be shot at more
than once before they would even fly off a short distance; and
latterly, though more wary, yet I crawled within arm’s length of
them. They are nearly all more or less mottled underneath with
black.
I have to thank you and my Glasgow friends once more for
your obliging opinion of my communications, which is more than
they are entitled to, as they are simply the daily thoughts which
occupy my mind when wandering along the hill-side, or floating
in solitude upon the blue water. If at such times I had the
means of putting them immediately on paper, I am sure they
would be much fresher and better worth keeping. But while
dipping the feathering oar with one hand into the briny element,
I doubt the possibility of keeping the goose feather dipping with
the other hand into the inky fluid. This reminds me of a sapient
remark from a London tailor. Last summer I took some home-
woven tartan to be fashioned into habiliments by a Metropolitan
artist. “You observe this cloth,” said I, “is entirely made by
the hand-looms of the common fishermen of Iona.” “Oh, indeed,
sir! Ah, yes, I suppose they take their looms out with them in
their boats, along with them, to work while they are fishing.”
It will not be very long before the “ season ” commences again,
122 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
as here is March begun, and the winter actually past, before we
were aware of its having more than just set in. I begin to
observe that every successive year passes quicker and quicker
than its predecessor. They used to go something cannie-like, but
now they go by steam, and threaten as one advances in years to
outstrip even this, revolving, like the fly-wheel of a high-pressure
engine, round and round with dizzying velocity, tlying with
increase of impetus at every turn; or bounding like a mill-stone
down a steep brae-side, and leaving as little trace of their course
—till the crisis comes—the boiler bursts, the engine sticks at
“dead-point,” and the mill-stone plunges with a splash into the
black tarn, and is seen no more.
LETTER XVIII. 123
The only objection to rural retired life is that from its
monotony the time slips along too smoothly and unperceived.
Old Chronos seems to be jogging round the hour-hand of his dial
with his finger and cheating us out of our minutes; shaking the
sand through his glass, or “ flogging ” it, as is done at sea—that is,
whipping it round in legerdemain style before the last grains have
fully run out, which has the double advantage of shortening the
current hour and of giving the new one a fair start in life, the
united effect of which brings the sleepy-headed watch on deck so
much the nearer to their snug moorings in “blanket bay,” the
haven where they would be. When I apply the word “ monoton-
ous ” to country life, it is not my intention to imply anything like
ennui. No, far from it! Each season in its turn brings con-
stantly varying scenes and entertainments, each day brings its
own duties and occupations, and each morning we rise with
refreshed zeal to the cheerful labours of the day, and renewed zest
to its sober delights. Still, though we travel through a fertile
and pleasant land, yet the slight undulations over which we pass
are so uniform in appearance, and so unvaried in direction and
general regularity of outline, that we skim along in a delightful,
dreamy, contemplative mood, till—rat, tat!—we go over some
accidental rut and are shaken into sudden consciousness that we
are just passing the thirtieth, fortieth, or fiftieth mile-stone upon
our journey of three-score miles and ten, and are quite surprised
at the killing pace at which we are going.
The old exemplification of this matter is the comparison between
the apparent lengths of a measured mile on the lone highway
and one through the streets of a city. But there is another, very
124 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
intelligible to a sportsman, and which has often struck me.
Measure off exactly 50 yards in the garden, or before the house,
across flower-bed and gravel walk; it looks a “stunning long
shot.” Step off the same on the bare hill-side—it looks like
nothing; while upon the still smoother surface of the sea it
looks less (excuse the Hibernicism) ; and one not accustomed to a
boat bangs away at birds out of shot, wondering he does not hit
them. Talk of sermons in stones! Here is a moral in a
measuring tape—namely, that the marked and varied life of
one who “knocks about” in the world seems of much greater
length than the same short span of one, like the Vicar of Wake-
field, whose whole adventures were those of the fireside, and
whose only migrations were from the blue bed to the brown.
Enough of secular subjects—now to the divine study of birds!
And let us begin with the sacred bird of Rome, the noble Goose.
A little book called Rural Economy, among many excellent
directions about the management of beast and bird, contains this
shocking statement: “A breeding stock consists of jive geese and
a gander.” All the blood in my body rushes to my face, threaten-
ing an immediate attack of apoplexy, as I repeat it; but I cannot
hold my peace and hear my worthy friend traduced and calum-
niated. The Gander accused of polygamy! Our best friend at
bed and board; ever a warm and yielding one at the former, and
the glory of the latter—-where, if not exactly the friend of our
bosom, he is at least that of an adjoining region. Besides all which,
he is concerned in the writing of everything ever written that
is worth reading—excepting what was inscribed by the antique
stylus, or is scrawled with a crow-quill in delicate angular
LETTER XVIII. 125
hand, as if a fly had dipped its legs in ink and then polkaed
over the pink satin paper till they were dry. As for the iron
pens of modern days, we leave them to the dun and the tax-
gatherer, to scratch their noxious circulars in characters of gall
and vinegar.
To hear this concentration of all that is valuable, amiable, and
lovely, stigmatised—branded as a polygamist! This scandalous
outrage on his domestic character makes all the down of his head
‘to stand on end; and he puts into my hand the primest of his
wing primaries, to write and beg of you and his Glasgow friends
to do him justice. He can hardly be acquitted by a jury of his
peers ; as, besides their being themselves implicated in the case,
their dictum would not have sufficient weight with the public, on
account of the vulgar prejudice entertained as to their intellectual
faculties. Is he like the gallant, gay Lothario, who struts before
his harem of douce, brown-coated wives, or yet like his com-
patriot of the “ Guse-dub,” the domesticated and demoralised
Drake? No; he is the most constant, the most domestic of all .
domestic fowl. If the sole choice of his heart happens to be
lying in the straw, how constant is his attendance at the entrance
of the nest! In tender cacklings he diverts her confinement
with the latest gossip of the barn-yard, or with contemplation of
that bright day when from the lifeless-looking eggs shall burst
forth a beautiful family of downy goslings. How valiantly he
defends the nest from insult! But the height of all his happi-
ness is reached if he be allowed to sit upon it himself, if only for
a minute or two. Then, when the delighted father first sees his
brood, immoderate is his joy; with loud cries and outstretched
126 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
wings he goes through the ceremony of kissing successively each
one of his sallow young ones with open bill; and so boisterous
is this outburst of his paternal emotions that it is sometimes
dangerous to the safety of the objects of it. However, when
this danger is past he becomes the vigilant defender and
guardian; and, should the mamma have suffered from the
protracted duties of incubation, he willingly condescends to
be the tender nurse. Then his social virtues! Some time ago
one of our geese got one of its legs broken. I carefully set
it with splints and bandages, and then the invalid was put
into an outhouse, where she lay in a hamper—perfect rest
being strictly enjoined. Every morning after this the other
geese came, and, stopping under the window for a little while
when on their way to the green, inquired in gabbling accents
after the health of the invalid, who replied in the same language,
« As well as could be expected;” “ Passed a better night than
usual,” &c.; upon which off they marched, satisfied with the
bulletin. This continued till she recovered, when she returned
to the flock, who received her with open arms—or rather wings
—and noisy acclamations, showing their recognition of her; for,
of course, a stranger would have been driven off. I will say
no more, though much remains unsaid, but conclude with the
bold avowal that I am a friend to the Goose. Yes, I love the
Goose. And so the matter ends— unless any witless knave
takes me up with some of the time-honoured but abusive jests
in connection with the dear bird. If so, I shall know him to
be but some shallow fellow who could not so much as say
“Bo!” to a Goose.
LETTER XVIIL 127
Feeling conscious of having passed the Rubicon one half ounce,
I may as well carry on till I expend myself, as it is fated that
the revenue shall be augmented by a supplementary penny. What
must be, must. Pray bear with me. These are written by candle-
light, and with the assistance of a pipe of the blessed weed “ that
cheers but does not inebriate.”” I hope the reader may be in an
equally auspicious mood.
The long-promised note upon the Cormorant is at my pen’s
point, but it must be again deferred for fear of your patience
giving way—“ Frien’s are like fiddle-strings ; they maunna be o’er
»
straitchit,’ or they crack’
but I will send it by an early post.
My departure I have postponed, not for a day or two, but
for a bold stretch of three weeks.
During some severe weather last week a party of five Swans
paid us a visit of a few days. Unfortunately a bungler succeeded
in making them very timid and wary, so that one of the
islanders and myself only succeeded in wounding one, which
escaped across the Sound and fell into the hands of some ruthless
barbarians, who immediately, like so many hungry ogres, fell upon
it, plucked and eat it. All I recovered from them was the head
and the legs, which were too indigestible for even their rapacious
maws. I have taken a life-size drawing of the head; it is as
large as that of a cat. The feet I have added to my collection
of “spogs” (Anglice, paws) of web-footed birds. They are easily
prepared by nailing them to a board with pins, when they soon
dry, retaining the open position you wish them to have; then
1 Straightened, stretched. Strait, to straighten; siraict, 4 narrow pass;
straitit, constrained.—Ep.
128 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Foot of
lesser Black
Lesser Black
Back,
Quills of
Common
Tern
lesser Black
Back
Cormorants
Black
Cormorant Cormorant
Green
LETTER XVIII. 129
put a little sealing-wax where the joint was; cut, and rub them
over with varnish; and they make rather an amusing collection.
What a contrast between these Swans’ huge splay feet and the
Petrel’s delicate little paddles, or the Tern’s minute red slippers!
Mould a pair of Cormorant’s feet round a wooden peg to show
how adapted they are for perching. Let one of the loon’s feet
dry in the position of being drawn forward, when it collapses into
a mere knife blade, as a contrast to a foot giving the impelling
stroke, which expauds to the size of a mason’s trowel.
I shall be very much interested to hear of the success of your
researches after the Bridled Guillemot (Uria lachrymans). It is
always described as having the white rim round the eye, extending
backwards down the neck, which is exactly the description of the
three specimens that I have seen here. But in some books I see it
mentioned that “there is a variety of Uria troile, on the coast of
Wales and elsewhere, having a white line between the eye and
the bill, like the Razor-bill.” Is this a variety or a third distinct
species? It is not usual for Nature to play such pranks among
wild birds, where a variety is a lusus nature of rare occurrence.
However this may be, I shall not dridle my tongue in defence of
his individuality, even should your looked-for essay on the subject
pronounce his non-existence. As a doughty controversialist once
said when getting the worst of an argument, “ You may convince
me, but I won’t believe it.” So shall I be like a sturdy Saxon,
whose boast is that even when he is beaten he is not aware of it,
and with colours nailed to the mast, whether we sink or swim,
to the last gasp my cry is, “ Uria lacrymans and no surrender !”
On all other points I am your obedient friend.
: XIX.
Tona, 9th April 1853.
THe day I had fixed for my departure was so stormy and
unpleasant that I put it off for another week. I send with this
a practical commentary on the Cormorant, which you will perhaps
think rather rambling, but as it
is the concluding letter of this
series of our Ionian correspondence, q trust it will be looked
upon with lenity.
Last year there came under my observation a curious accident
which had happened to a Cormorant, and is perhaps worth
mentioning. The bird was shot by an old fisherman, and I saw
LETTER XIX. 131
it immediately after it was brought ashore. It had a remarkable
white mark round the neck, which, on examination, we found to
be a perforated clam shell, forming a necklace or collar. There
are great quantities of limpet and bivalve shells cast on the sandy
beaches, many with a hole worn through the centre by the con-
stant friction and tossing about by the wash of the waves. It
was probably while pursuing the
small flounders near the
bottom of one of these
sandy bays that. the
poor bird chanced to
run its head into the
noose. The shell had
worked its way down
to the shoulder, where
it seemed, from the
marked and frayed ap-
pearance of the feathers, to
have been a considerable time. pe
It fitted so accurately that when I perf" uP
drew it off the head would barely go through. The bird was fat,
though he must have been prevented from swallowing any but very
small fish, for he could not distend his throat. He had probably
become reconciled to his misfortune, and only hunted for small
game. I will present: you with the identical collar. I would
have kept the skin had it not been so cruelly mangled by a heavy
charge of “No. 1,” fired over the rock from a grim, rusty old
three-foot-in-the-barrel, equally dangerous to “ firer” and “ firee.”
132 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
It is wonderful what work is done with such antique-looking
tools as these, even, as I have sometimes seen, when fired off by
a fiery peat applied to the touch-hole. The old man holds the
gun, and one of the bairns applies the match, and picks up the
game—if there is any; as for the gunner, he is lying flat on his
back, with both eyes filled with red-hot peat dust.
M‘Gillivray describes the Sea Eagle as often spending his
leisure hours in floating upon the waves.’ It must be a singular
and striking sight to see a bird of this description upon the water.
The only terrestrial bird I ever saw willingly take to the sea was
the Sea Pyet or Oyster-catcher. I once saw a large flock pitch
down upon the water and remain swimming for some considerable
space of time. Jt was in a spot where the water was literally
alive with young Saithe or Coal-fish—a semi-fluid mass—“a
brochan’ of cuddies,” as the natives express it, which probably
invited the birds to perform this natatorial feat.
The Sea Pyet, when wounded, not only swims with ease, but
if pressed dives with great activity, rendering it no easy task to
capture it, even with a boat. I once caught a young unfledged
Sea Pyet, and placed him in the boat. He instantly jumped out.
I thought the dissolute young rascal had committed suicide; but
1 The Editor can remember no such statement of M‘Gillivray’s; and our
author rightly remarks that such a proceeding on the part of a Sea Eagle must
be a ‘singular and striking sight.”
? Tn order that to the mind of a Sassenach the simile may seem fitting, we
give Jamieson’s translation of the word brochan—viz.: ‘‘ Oatmeal boiled to a con-
sistence somewhat thicker than gruel;” and to explain that, to be true to the
native’s acceptation of the said simile, the brochan should not be “ off the boil.”
We may further endeavour to enlighten the uninitiated by stating, what may
not be generally known south of the Gates of the Highlands, that ‘‘cuddies” is a
word of Scandinavian origin, not applied there to brainless men, but to juvenescent
specimens of Saithe or Coal-fish.—Ep.
LETTER XIX. 133
looking through the clear green water, I was relieved to see my
young friend leisurely walking about the sandy bottom, as if he
had no immediate intention of revisiting the upper regions of air,
and evidently quite at ease, though it must have been his first
taste of salt water.
g
I have two or three times seen the Oyster-catcher in a rather
unusual position—namely, on a newly-ploughed field, as if
searching for worms.
Lo?
Peiwirof od: Ofer asl
Certainly, the land was liberally covered
with a layer of seaweed, which is extensively, almost exclusively,
* A habit common enough along the big rivers of the East of Scotland, but
rarer in the West.—Ep,
K
134 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
used as manure here, so that the misguided birds might not
have been aware that they were committing a trespass, supposing
they were still within the sacred bounds of “below high water
mark,” the property of great and small, that rich estate formed by
Waders of high and low degree.
All the Wading birds take boldly to the water when wounded
and their retreat is cut off by land, but none so readily as the
Oyster-catcher.
An Oyster-catcher—as if you had to run after an oyster to
catch it! What an exciting race!
K X.
THE CORMORANTS,
HERE commonly called the Scart, which, like much of the Low
Country Scotch dialect, is a corruption of the Gaelic word
Scarbh.
It is abundantly distributed along our shores and over the
surface of our seas. Both the Great Black Cormorant (Phala-
crocorax carbo) and the Lesser Green-crested Cormorant (P.
graculus) are found; though the latter is the more plentiful of
the two.
The caves of Staffa and of the neighbouring islets are
exclusively peopled by this kind; while beneath the stupendous
cliffs of Bury and Gribun on the mainland of Mull the Black
Cormorant is found in great numbers, nesting and roosting
LETTER XX. 135
among the wave-worn cliffs. The habits
of the two species seem to be
very similar, and I am a
not aware of any reason
for their thus selecting
these separate localities.
At a distance the Black %
Cormorant is easily dis- ‘i
tinguished by the marked
white patches on the
cheeks and thighs, which
contrast very conspicuously with the rest of its black plumage.
The Green Cormorant, on the contrary, has no break in the
136 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
sombre tint of its sad-coloured livery, with the exception of
the bright yellow skin upon the face, which is, however, sufficient
to betray the bird when sitting—otherwise quite invisible—
upon the high ledges in the twilight obscurity of its cave.
The crest is another distinction between the two races, though
in itself an uncertain criterion ; for, while the black bird often
has the crest partially developed, the green-crested one is not
‘always thus ornamented, even in birds actually shot on the
nest in the height of the breeding season ; though in winter, on
the other hand, I have once or twice obtained individuals
with a splendid long “ queue.” Nevertheless, it must in general
be regarded as a nuptial ornament, and a very graceful one,
of the adult Green-crested Cormorant, when attired in his
rich and beautiful wedding garment of summer.
The immature Black Cormorant takes more than one season
to attain its full bulk, and its plumage in the meantime is a
dull black above and a greyish-brown mixture beneath; but
the young Green Cormorant is clad in an entire neat suit
of dark bottle green, from the very commencement of its.
career after leaving the nest.’ Another distinction may be
observed in the eyes; those of the last mentioned species are
of a brilliant clear green, like lustrous emeralds, while the
irides of the other are simply grey or brown.
Many people feel a sort of aversion to the Cormorant as a
kind of “unclean bird.” It certainly has an ugly name for
1 There is some misapprehension here, as the Green Cormorant does not
attain to its full green and adult plumage quite so suddenly as indicated by our
author. —Ep.
LETTER XX. 137
greed and gluttony. Milton supposes Satan to have entered
its form before assuming that of a serpent.
“Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life,
The middle tree, and highest there that grew,
Sat like a cormorant.”
Indeed, the sepulchral gloom of its dark, dank abode, its sombre
plumage, melancholy aspect, its silence, but rarely broken, and
then only by a sad foreboding croak, might all join to inspire a
2 Z \
sort of prejudice against the poor bird, independently of his rather
dirty habits. And truly his cave does not smell savoury ; and even
from the rock out in the open sea, where groups of these grave-
looking citizens of the deep sit and rest themselves on their return
from the fishery business, when approached to leeward, a breeze
is borne down upon us very unlike what is wafted off the balmy
Spice Islands, but rather such as we might expect from a city of
Esquimaux when holding high wassail in brimming beakers
tapped from a stranded whale.
138 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
But, after all, this bird will be found to be as beautiful a work
as any that Nature has turned of hand. Its shape and long neck
are far from inelegant. See it dive! How gracefully it springs
clean out of the water, throws a somersault in the air, and dis-
appears head foremost into the blue depths! Then the lovely
plumage of the Green Cormorant—a mixture of green and gold,
like the most gorgeous shot silk raiment, traversed by delicate
bands of rich velvet. Its beak is of gold, and its eyes living
emeralds. He also bears a plume upon his head as a mark of his
nobility.
From this high cliff we look down upon the vast heavers of
the angered ocean, as they come rolling in with mighty sweep
and hurl themselves upon the iron-bound shore. All around is
milk-white foam and dreadful agitation. There, in the very midst
of this, what Byron would term “ hell-broth,” floats a black speck.
That is the Cormorant following its sport, where the stoutest
work of man’s hand would be as a toy, where all his skill and
inventions could not gain a minute of life. Here comes a huge
wave; its white crest already begins to curl over its swelling
bosom with a crashing sound; now it gets steeper and steeper as
it rolls onward, till it rears up like a high green cliff overshadowing
a horrid abyss beneath. At the critical moment down goes the
Scart, and when the danger has gone past and the hurly-burly
has subsided, up he springs again into day, unconcernedly dis-
cussing a nice fresh young cod, which he had caught while taking
refuge in the bosom of the Great Mother.
This plea for the Cormorant reminds me of a reply made by
a worthy old friend, who for half a century has ruled the glens
LETTER XX. 139
of Mull with his ramrod—* All God’s works are lovely ; every
beast and every bird is bonniest of its kind. ’Deed, sir, and the
Hoodie Craw hersel’ is a pratty, pratty beast, if it were na that
she’s just ver—min.”
Ah! and if we catch a Scart, is he not capable of being dis-
cussed in another way? Indeed he is.
Keep a sufficiently long time, skin off his jacket, and make
him into soup. It requires a couple to make it good, and then I
defy the Court of Common Council or a jury of aldermen to detect
the difference between it and the finest hare soup. A curry does
indifferently well; and the liver, which is of a large size, is as
good as that of the Goose.’
Having decided the gastronomic value of our friend, let us
consider the ways and means of obtaining a few individuals to
garnish our larder withal.
In winter, especially when stormy, we shall see them fishing
at half tide close along the rocks and in the shallow sandy bays.
They are wary ; and, diving, they take care to get a good offing if
they see the least danger. But it is nice practice to stalk one,
running from one hiding-place to another, while the bird is below
water, till we succeed in attaining a rock that is within reach of
him. As he emerges from the water he turns about his head in
search of anything suspicious, and carefully examines the shore
before he will dive again, lest it conceal a lurking foe. In good
weather it is more amusing to follow our game upon its own
element. We should approach the swimming bird to windward,
1 We can testify to the truth of the remark by our author regarding the
similarity of scart soup to hare soup. Vide also p. 262,—Ep.
140 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
for he prefers rising against the
wind. In calm weather, if well gorged with fish, he cannot rise
without the help of the breeze under his wings. When he sees
his retreat cut off in this direction, he swims about in evident
perplexity, and often allows the boat to come within fatal distance.
Their quickness in knowing their enemies is very amusing.
A heavy, lumbering fishing-boat is allowed to pass close by, while
the quiet, insidious approach of the small gun-bearing skiff is
suspected and fled from. At first they take short dives; but if,
thoroughly alarmed, they begin racing—that is, diving and swim-
ming determinedly away——it is then almost useless to attempt to
overtake them. When a bird sees it is no longer pursued, after
rising to the surface, he flaps his wings, then expands them for a
moment till he feels the breeze, and with laborious strokes rises
off the water. These, as well as other sea birds, always try to
get to windward by crossing the bows of a boat coming under
LETTER XX. 141
sail, and they generally escape by getting the weather gauge, either
by the boat being unable to get up to them, or, at worst, they can
readily take flight up the wind when danger becomes pressing.
There are certain rocks very much frequented by the Cormor-
ants, where they rest and bask in the sun, often with wings
outspread, “hanging out to dry.” Here they often sit motionless
for hours, quite erect, looking exactly like rows of gigantic black
bottles set out for a soirée of Fingalians, the gigantic heroes who
built up the columns of Staffa for their banqueting hall, when
“the song and the shell went round.”
As the boat draws nearer, signs of uneasiness begin to appear—
awakening yawns, stretching of wings and waddlings to the over-
hanging edge of the rock; all the long necks are twisting about
in active motion, as if the prudent creatures were trying to
thoroughly “see their way clear” before taking a leap. Crack!
goes a cartridge at sixty yards, when down go the black gentry,
tumbling and rolling head over heels down the face of the rock,
and disappear into the water. -
You think you have
murdered the whole
gang; but wait a
second, and
then they all.
come merrily
bobbing up
the surface, a forest
142 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
of black necks swimming away to windward. A few are within
reach, and—piff, puff!—shoot ’em down is the word—no quarter
given to them now.
Lastly, we may visit one of the caves, as the swell of the
Atlantic has sunk into a calm slumber, and will allow us to
venture into it without danger to the boat. At the first alarm
a string of birds pours forth, almost into our faces; still many
remain sitting on the high shelters, even though we enter the
cave and re-fire repeatedly, creating a most dreadful din and
bringing down splinters of the rock from the lofty vaulted roof.
LETTER XX. 143
If the young “ Scartlings” are hatched, they keep up a perpetual
clamour very different from their taciturn parents; the report of
the gun frequently brings one toppling over the edge of its coarse
sea-tangle nest—a most ungainly-looking youngster. If we like
to wait here till evening, we might get almost any number of
birds, as they come flying home at sunset, for the Cormorant
keeps early hours and retires to rest with the sun. But we are
contented with what we have done and will now stay our hand
from slaughter.
The Cormorant is very tenacious of life. When winged, he
seems to recover new life as soon as he strikes the water, and
escapes by diving. When wounded, they sometimes disappear in
a mysterious manner, though there are plenty of quick eyes in the
boat, and all around is as smooth as a polished mirror. Yet the
wounded bird is not to be seen, and is believed by the boatmen
to have gone to the bottom—-to remain there, out of spite.
Some time ago I heard of a party of fishermen visiting a
Scart’s cave by night. A fire being lighted, the poor birds came
fluttering down from their roosts, and were killed with sticks.
However, in the midst of the confusion—smoke, darkness, flapping
wings, and whirring of revolving shillelahs—an unfortunate
fellow was mistaken by a comrade for a gigantic Phalocrocorax.
The sharp crack of a broken skull was heard, instead of the dull
thud of smitten feathers, and the victim was taken home in the
bottom of the boat as insensible as the bed of dead Cormorants
on which he lay.
Had the accident terminated fatally the coroner’s verdict would
have been “Served him right;” but the Highlander’s cranium
144 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
was not particularly damaged, though the shillelah was con-
siderably injured by the collision.
The Cormorant generally flies low along the surface of the
water to and from its fishing ground; though sometimes when
making a long passage, especially in windy weather, it soars up
to a very great height. Occasionally, in a perfect calm, when the
sea is as smooth as if solidified into crystal, a bird may be seen
drying his wings without leaving the water; he sits erect in the
sea, floating about for half an hour at a time with his wings
spread in the air, presenting a curious appearance.
ARDRISHAIG, 24th February 1860.
Ir gave me very great pleasure to receive your letter. It
recalled to my memory the pleasant correspondence we had years
ago. I have been always proposing either to write to you or to
call next time I should be in Glasgow; but alas! the causeway
_ paved with good intentions leads to—nothing, as it turned out in
this case. Jam thankful to you for having broken the charm,
and as you have spoken first, I hasten to speak in reply—after
the manner of ghosts in such cases.
I know that you are an enthusiastic naturalist, and that your
favourite department is that most fascinating one, Ornithology,
which offers the combination of science and sport, of out-of-door
intellectual exercise and amusement, in a greater degree than any
of its sister “ologies.” I used to consider myself when slaughter-
ing the Iona Sea-fowl as doing a little in this way, and instead
of being a mere animated ramrod, taking aim and loading up
again as fast as it can, I persuaded myself that I was doing a
little of what I might call the “Sport ornithologomancy.” My
experiences have been very limited since I left Iona. Certainly
146 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
during the two years that I rambled over a considerable part of
Upper Canada I carried with me a gun and an eye towards birds ;
but in my present locality, though there is abundance of the
common kinds of wild fowl, there is rarely anything to gladden the
eye of the collector and make his pulse bound and his aim
tremble as he deliberately “gets on” a fine specimen. As you
do me the compliment of asking me to contribute some more
papers on this subject, I shall be happy to write a letter or two
in the old friendly style, though the matters be but small; and
should they be too garrulous (for I am older than I was five years
ago) for any other purpose, I dare say they will be an amusement
to an old friend.
In our neighbourhood, and I should suppose generally else-
where, this has been a rare season for wild fowl; the unusually
severe winter has assembled more than the ordinary amount of
Mallard and Widgeon, with the usual proportion of Pochards,
Seals, &c., which mostly congregate where the reflux of the tide
leaves an expansive margin of muddy acres on which the hungry
million pick up their pasturage.
When the tide is out more than a mile of good mud is laid
bare, prolific in every delicacy dear to the Wading or Web-footed
gastronome. Thence you may hear all night long their wild
cries ringing on the frozen air; tribe calling upon tribe in varied
cadence, borne in from the distant ebb so distinctly upon the
silent night wind, that every characteristic note may be heard and
the number of the various species estimated by the observer, even
comfortably in bed, half a mile inland.
But when the moon rises high and near her full, clear and
LETTER XXI. 147
frosty in the bright blinks between the driving north-east snow
squalls, throwing a sheet of white light over the distant sea and
the dried-up bed of the loch, which it has temporarily relinquished
—out there, breaking across that luminous pathway in a great black
streak, is a teeming mass of life, dabbling, squattering in the ooze,
sailing in black specks across the bright pools, surging to and fro.
Now a noisy contention rises among groups of the vast multitude,
148 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
as they press on one another, or rival clans intrude too closely.
But such disputative cacklings subside again as quickly as they
rise, and nothing but the crow of an old cock Widgeon or the
husky quacking of a veteran Mallard is to be heard above the
general chorus of many thousand pairs of spoon- bills, all
sputtering and shovelling away for dear life at the ample feast of
fat sea worms and rich pasturage of sea grass set before them.
While we are watching them, or perhaps by a crafty approach
are hoping to have a nearer view, the report of a gun comes
booming over the flats and rumbles away into silence among the
opposite hills. Its last echoes are, however, drowned in a new
and louder noise; it was but the signal for a universal uproar,
a hubbub, a hurricane of confusion. Far and near there now
rises the thunder of many wings rebounding off the half-frozen
mud, as the birds spring into the air, acting as a rolling bass to
the shriller sounds of anger and alarm issuing from myriads
of throats in varied keys. The Curlew hovers in the air,
shrieking frantically ; the Golden Plover gives his wild plaintive
whistle as he dashes by on hawk-like wing; the Sea-pyet, eddying
in a spiral column over a stricken comrade who is trying hard to
gain the water, ring out their shrill querulous “Peep, peep!”
the Heron gives a hoarse, angry yell as his broad flapping pinions
catch the light sea breeze and lift him out of danger; the heavy
Scotch Duck? quacks as she bustles away on busy wing; a few
Bernacle Geese rise and go off in good order in single file, sound-
ing an angry clang of alarm; any unknown quantity of Sand-
1 A family name evidently, as intended by our author.—Ep.
2 Anas boschas. L.—Ep.
LETTER XXI. 149
pipers, Turnstone, and other “mud-larks,” give vent to their
feelings in shrill pipings. But all this is secondary to the clam-
our of the Widgeon, who, in vast flocks, distractedly wheel round
and round with whistling cries and whistling pinions, ealling all
heaven and earth to witness their distress, their grief, how “ their
nerves have been shaken and their rest has been marred ” by that
fatal sound, the ignition of nitre. It takes a long time before
confidence begins to be restored; but gradually the uproar sub-
sides, and the scattered bands begin to settle down again from
their aerial gyrations to resume their interrupted diet. Still some
wary old Curlew continues at intervals to blow off his alarm-
whistle—very different from the pleasant, bubbling cry, half wail,
half gurgle, which proceeds from the contented Curlew when, in
peace and safety, he bores deep into the cool sand and feels a soft
sea-slug wriggling in his mandibles—the note which has won for
him his Gaelic name of Gul-buin, Musical Wailer.
The worst of it is, that each sonorous alarm, as it proceeds
from the cunning old “ whaup’s” throat, sets off his tattling little
neighbour—the Redshank—into a little hysterical screaming fit
as a response, producing a third response—not remarkable for
piety or elegance of diction—from a gentleman not two hundred
yards away, lying prone upon the mud, who is anxious to put his
benumbed limbs in motion, and would at that moment cheerfully
give all his worth to wring the little brute’s neck, and give that
long-billed old fellow something to squeal for; for he knows that
as long as their unnecessary clamour keeps the whole shore in a
fidget, so long must he lie in that ignominious position in brother-
hood with the old bernacle-encrusted log left there by the last tide.
L
150 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULI.
At high water on moonshiny nights the Widgeon draw to the
shore, and land to graze upon the banks at those points where the
grass grows quite down to the verge of the sea; and in the day-
time some exciting shots may be got from a punt by paddling
along the shore, where you may surprise small parties or single
Metheng Conbeny’
birds in the little bays and crevices. Very often on a sunny
day, with a sharp north wind blowing, you may catch a little
flock napping under a sequestered rock, enjoying the glare of the
sun, and sheltered from the wind. Intimate acquaintance with
the localities and pet places of the birds is rather essential to
success in poking round the shores. Even should you see a vast
LETTER XXI. 151
flock riding at anchor a little way out to sea, waiting the turn of
the tide,—a long streak, blackening the water for a quarter of a
mile,—it is not impossible but that, with good management and
better luck, one may get a chance; by drifting, or very gently
paddling, one might get within cartridge range before they rise.
When the rolling noise, like distant thunder, announces “they
are up,” boat your oars and handle your gun, and it’s hard but
one section of the great mass pass within shot. Sometimes, while
wheeling about, a second chance may be had before the whole of
the scattered flocks form into a dense column, and stream away
right in the wind’s eye, the old birds whistling and “ whewing”
their commands as they regulate the order of their going.
On the 13th February (St Valentine’s Eve) I observed the
Widgeon were beginning to pair. Several loving couples appar-
ently all in all to one another, had separated from the flock.
It was almost the first bright mild day of the season; the water
was like glass. I followed one couple for a considerable distance.
The duck seemed very loath to fly; but as I approached, the
drake, who shone resplendent to the sun in full pride of plumage,
became fidgety, nodding his head and sailing round his mate,
apparently urging her to fly with him. At last, unable to stand
it any longer, he fairly spread his wings, and flapping the stilly
surface of the water into rings, rose and was off: but, no! finding
his mate did not accompany him, down he dropped again into the
water some twenty yards off. I made a circuit after him to avoid
starting the duck; as I paddled within fifty yards of that
unreasonable female, she remained obstinately still, not moving a
feather; apparently she fancied that she so escaped detection,
152 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
there being some few floating fronds of seaweed (“knobbed
wrack”) on the surface about her. Again I started her sorely-
tried lord, with exactly the same result. He would not go
without her. Just then, however, a sudden whim crossed her
capricious ladyship’s head, and, without a moment’s notice, off
she clipped, with her gallant drake close in her wake. I watched
them down, again came up with them, and they again performed
the same evolutions. The duck seemed to think she was safe;
that I would not shoot such an insignificant object as herself, as
long as that splendid fellow of a husband of hers was waiting
there to be gone after. His opinion seemed to be about the same,
only he could not bring himself to forsake his “ duck” to seek his
own safety. So he continued swimming round and round her in
a wide circle, allowing me to come within fifty or sixty yards, and
then flying a little distance, while the duck would only fly when
I made straight for her, coming within forty yards. I left them
at last, though of course I might have shot them both with the
greatest ease. Meeting another couple, under somewhat similar
circumstances, I killed the drake. To my surprise, he was not in
nearly such highly brilliant plumage as some I had got early in
January (of course, long before they had paired). I observed espe-
cially that the teal-like green patch behind the eye, which was quite
absent in the mated bird, was very highly developed in some of
the winter birds. JI should suppose that mature age brings this
accession of beauty; if so, it is but natural to suppose that these
well-plumed old beaux are not the birds to be caught pairing the
day before St Valentine.
Two or three pair of Teal seemed inclined to act in the same
LETTER XXI. 153
way as the Widgeon had done. A gallant little fellow—the
miniature drake—was in his bright new livery, his red head and
freckled grey back gleaming in the sunshine. However, on my
nearer approach, the vivacious little couple flitted away like a
dream, scarcely leaving a circling ripplet in the glassy mirror,
which this moment had borne, as well as reflected, the trig little
figures of the elfin pair.
A few Razor-bills are swimming and dipping about the loch;
their long, rattling croaks, borne along the smooth water, sound
like a Punch and Judy having a conjugal difference. Hun du na
sqadain (the black herring birds), the Highland fisherman calls
them, in common with the Guillemot ; for when he sees them pour
out their vast multitudes along the western shores, speckling the
154 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
seas as far as the eye can reach, then he knows that it is time for
him to bark his nets and patch up the old skiff, in preparation
for the great herring campaign.
Though this part of Loch Fyne is abundantly frequented by
all the ordinary description of wild fowl, yet, being but inland
waters, it is not such a favourable post of observation as one of
the outlying islands of the west. From one of those rocky watch-
towers you may see the mighty armies of the skies, the plumed
hosts of the air, upon their annual march to and fro. Those
desolate rocks often shelter a tempest-driven stranger, who other-
wise would not seek our shores; and those hyperborean seas give
a winter welcome to the hardy Arctic tribes, who disdain the
tepid waters and enervating climate of the south. Yet even here in
spring we may observe various northern emigrants, dressed in their
sumptuous nuptial robes, on their way to the bush fens of Norway,
where, steaming under the never-setting sun among the rank sedge
and lukewarm waters of the dark lagune, is some well-known
secluded spot, far from the ken of man, where many a generation
of young Northern, or Red-throated Diverling and Sclavonian
Grebelet, has first seen the light, and been launched on life’s
troubled waters. The latter bird I observed here in March. Last
year a considerable number remained in the loch during the last
week of the month, a spell of bad weather retarding their pro-
gress. Though going in small parties, they had evidently paired,
the couples keeping close together ; so close, indeed, that I obtained
two specimens at one shot. They were in full summer dress—a
very striking and beautiful combination of buff, black, and white.
The largely-developed horns of orange plumes are a very striking
LETTER XXI. 155
feature, and add very much to the quaint appearance of this queer
species of water-fowl. The iris is a rich ruby red, with an
extremely fine exterior thread of white running round it. I have
compared these specimens with a similar one shot in Canada,
where it is abundant on the large lakes and rivers. It there
rejoices in the descriptive and euphonious title of “ Hell-diver.”
The most remarkable difference is that in the American specimen
the horns are connected by a band of the same bright orange buff
running across the forehead at the base of the bill) This makes
a very characteristic difference in the personal appearance of the
two birds, which otherwise seem identical, and seems to be so
considered by Wilson, who simply calls it Colymbus, or Podiceps
Cornutus, as we do our Horned Grebe on this side of the
Atlantic.
So much for the notes of the season, as noted on the banks of
the Gilp, which, you see, is a very inferior post of observation to
Columba’s old isle.
XXIT
ARDRISHAIG, 1st May 1860.
Ir is a good while since I last addressed you. The fact is that
very little of mutual interest has come under my observation here
since the Widgeon and Wild Duck have flown away.
I am glad that my effusion on Ducks and mud interested you.
I dare say that to a correspondent in town it bore with it some
odour of the seaside; some of the aroma of low water mark, that
invigorating and mysterious smell made up of brine, seaweed,
stranded whelks, and other strange, ancient fishy smells peculiar to
the venerable bed of Old Ocean when its outer edges are hung out
to dry. Ido not doubt you know it and admit it as much as I.
To my mind, or rather to my nose, it is more precious and
refreshing than the breeze off the meadows with its breath of
furze bloom and tedded hay—that is, of course, when it is quite
pure and without any of those hateful perfumes marking the
nuptials of Cloaca with Neptune, which happily our loch is as
yet innocent of When the tide is out I feel that I am lord of
this manor for at least four hours out of the twenty-four.
“My right there is none to dispute” in this muddy realm. “ Our
farm of four acres” is not so valuable as this neutral ground,
where lairds are not, and where gamekeepers do not extend.
Even Canute, the only king who ever attempted to encroach upon
its liberties, signally failed; and though his royal successors in
time came to rule the waves of the ocean, yet ‘they never attempted
to rule them quite straight round the edge of Great Britain;
LETTER XXIU. 157
there they obey only the eternal decree as given in the Book of
Job, and attend the beck of their deputed mistress, the Moon.
On this tract of land, which encircles our tight little island,
Nature spreads her table twice every day for a large class of her
children, especially her long-legged and flat-footed sons and
daughters, who revel on juicy molluscs and many an unctious
bait, saying shrill graces through their long beaks, till the air
rings again with as grateful music to the Giver of good things as
any “Non Nobis” that ever was chanted after turtle and venison.
This land of promise has inexhaustible attractions, too, for
creatures in a higher walk of life. Here the wary gunner, either
by land or on the water, may match his strategy against the Argus
eyes of game which is free of three elements; or the more leisurely
and meditative polypus hunter may here pick up, Curlew-like, out
of the puddles, for that aquarium in his study at home, “all
things that are forked, and horned, and soft,” and
“All the dry, pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea.”
The pale invalid, too, is here, sitting on a rock, pumping oxygen
and iodine into his lungs as fast as he can, while he is at the
same time busy sketching “low water, spring tide.” Here all
comers are sure to find what they have come for; wild game, sea
monsters, or the picturesque, be it what it may, all abound here.
Sport active, sport passive, and lots of fresh sea breeze for all.
The Sclavonian Grebes visited us again, but three weeks later
than I observed them last year, being in this respect in keeping
with everything else this wet and tardy spring. They were in
full feather, and in about the same numbers as last year; but the
158 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
weather was so stormy and wet all the time they stayed that I
could not procure a specimen. They frequently cried to one
another when they became separated after a long submarine pro-
menade. Their cry consists of a sharp, grating, rapidly repeated
shriek. They were off and on during the third week in April.
The Cuckoo brought his long overdue promissory note of
coming spring on the 2nd May; and the Terns or Sea Swallows,
who also serve the purpose of marine Cuckoos on the rocky,
treeless coast of the Hebrides, filled the air with their shrilly voices
on the 12th May, which is three days earlier than they are due
at Tona.
Eight days ago I saw a Great Northern Diver in the loch. I
watched him for a long time with the glass. He was in full
summer plumage. The water being as smooth as glass, I had an
opportunity of remarking the characteristic styles of diving dis-
tinguishing various members of the genus “ Dookers.” The Great
Northern Diver bends his head gently back, then easily and
majestically bows it down under water, without the least sign of
hurry or effort; the front portion of his huge bulk subsides gently
under the surface like a noble ship settling down by the head;
as the tail end disappears after it, two splashes of water are dashed
up in the air by an upward stroke of the broad paddles, as the
noble bird precipitates himself into the middle depths. The
whole process is conducted with the deliberation to be expected
from a bird occupying the respectable post of Mhara Bhuachaille,
or herdsman of the deep, the fanciful name given him by the
Highlanders; though, being a bird of easy temper, it does not
appear that he really uses his powerful bill and portly bulk to
LETTER XXII. 159
constitute himself a sea beadle amongst his lesser fish-hunting
associates. The Cormorant and Goosander’s motion is a striking
contrast to that of the Northern Loon. ‘These jerk back their
necks preparatory to the spring, then, with a most vigorous effort,
almost skip out of the water and plunge down head foremost like
a bather taking a “header.” A Golden-eye was bobbing up and
down over a bank of sea grass, his fatter proportions requiring
considerable exertion and a good somersault to get safely down to
the bottom. On rising, so buoyant did he appear, that he almost
seemed to shoot out of the water ark-like; while he invariably
reappeared in the very centre of the rings which the splash of
his descent had made. The Great Northern Diver, on the con-
trary, emerges between four and five gunshots from where he went
down, his long, black, frigate-like hull rising slowly to the surface
and shooting along with great “weigh on.” The Puffins and
Guillemots—poor things !—having no neck to speak of, just pop
down any way they best can, cocking up their little tail ends
towards heaven, as they bid farewell to the superficial things of the
world, and opening their wings to assist them to scuttle down.
In the early part of June myriads of Puffins visit us and
remain two or three weeks. JI have seen them flying in
thousands up Loch Gilp and out again, without any apparent
object, unless it be that they are disappointed to find it a cul-de-
sac, and are afraid to fly overland. It really seems as though
they had made an error in their navigation, and taking the
wrong side of the Mull of Cantyre on their way north, till, on
arriving at the head of Loch Gilp, they find themselves non-
plussed. Loons, Scarts, and Geese I often see flying high across
160 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
the narrow neck of land at Crinan, but never Guillemots and
Puffins.’ Even at their breeding places, when disturbed, the vast
flocks keep flying round and round ina great circle—a maelstrom
of feathers—its edge forming a tangent with the verge of the
cliff; but you may wait in vain for a single bird to encroach
upon the line; whatever you shoot, in falling, is sure to plumb
the sea below.”
XXIIL
ARDRISHAIG, 1st May 1861.
On Monday, 25th February, [ started for a trip to Jura. My
companion was a young officer in the 78th Highlanders. We
drove over the hill to Tayvallich, on Loch Swein, and at
Carsaig found a large, smack-rigged boat waiting to ferry us over
to Jura, which lay opposite, about eight miles off, though our run
was a good deal more, as we bore some way down the coast.
The aspect of Jura is as wild, rugged, and inhospitable as
can be conceived. Not a house or vestige of inhabitants is to be
seen as far as the eye can reach up and down that interminable line
of shaggy brown coast. The triple Paps of Jura, the best known
landmark on the west coast of Scotland, are steeped in mist away
to the south; while to the north Scarba rears his high round
back into the lowering sky, and Corryvreckin—~“ the boiler of the
spotted ocean”—roars at his feet. This is the Scylla and
Charybdis of the Ebudean seas. Though ten miles off, we hear
1 See also at p. 259, text and footnote.—Ep.
? Not always strictly so with Puffins or Rockbirds in many localities,—-Ep.
LETTER XXIII. 161
the voices of the vexed waters within the whirlpool, and can see
the white waves madly leaping into the air, throwing up the foam
towards the sky, as they approach the entrance to the gulf
between Scarba and Jura. Even where we are, the water is in
a state of ebullition,—technically called a “tide rip, or ripple,”—
quite distinct from the ordinary waves, which roll along before
the wind."
Our skipper gets a pull of the sheet, keeps his luff, and shouts
something discordant in Gaelic to his mate in the bow (wearing
a garibaldi, red frock, and only one boot), who trims the jib.
We surmise that the Sound of Jura is a treacherous water, but
have implicit confidence in our skipper, who screws himself into
as snug a position as the steering perch upon which he is roosting
will admit, and makes horrible faces as he dislodges a bit of
tobacco in his cheek with his tongue.
At last we near the land, and shooting past a little rocky
point, find ourselves in a smooth, glassy, land-locked bay with a
little pier, shrubs growing down to the water’s edge, and a gay
little yacht floating peaceably at anchor, unconscious of the
heaving surf, which ever moans at the narrow portal of this
placid little haven.
We were received on shore by a couple of gillies, who took
our guns and slender baggage, and then ascended a gentle slope
of grass like a large lawn, bounded by rocky banks, shagey with
1 Such as we ourselves witnessed, near the same place, in July 1887, from the
deck of our yacht, interested in an appearance which might well have served as
an illustration of the Great Sea Serpent: and one frequently observed and
understood by lighthouse-keepers, and others who are accustomed to gaze upon
the waters, in all stages of calm or storm, or ebb and flow of tide.—Ep.
162 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
brushwood, to the house, which stands on the top of the ascent—
a large, low, straggling white house, with old-fashioned windows
and numerous slated gables. Stables, offices, and garden nestle
behind, sheltered by walls and a few stunted trees. Shelter
seems the great object aimed at; not shelter by trees, of which
there are none to speak of, but by the surrounding hills and
banks. A steep, rocky hill stands in front of the house, leaving
an opening on each side for sea views, with turf descending to the
shore. The south side of this rocky elevation is laid out in walks,
planted with laurels and lauristinus, forming overarching bowers,
and with rhododendrons, and fuchsias; one of the latter, fourteen
feet in height, already budding, proved the mildness of the climate.
Natural caves and grottoes are formed in the cliffy face of the rock,
festooned with small-leaved ivy. There is a little grey rocky islet
forty yards off, leaving a narrow sound between it and the land.
The owner of the mansion being away, we were gravely wel-
comed by Mr Dougald, the major-domo. We located ourselves
permanently in the smoking-room—a long room on the ground
floor—and there we had a very “tall” dinner; soup, fish, beef
pudding, wine—a cask of beer had been tapped the moment our
boat touched the shore. Such a table spread in such a wilderness
gave the impression of an enchanted castle in that wild, remote,
hungry-looking island; the more so on account of the stillness
and desertion of the house, for we never saw a sign of any other
servant in it besides Mr Dougald, who appeared and disappeared
in silence and mystery through a noiseless, self-closing, green
baize door, ever bearing fresh viands, wines, vivres, or books,
maps—anything we chose to ask for or even hint at. This green
LETTER XXIII. 163
baize door became a perfect Herr Dibbler magic hat; and it was
at last a relief to permanently “lay” Mr
Dougald’s bishop-like, black-vestured,
white-chokered figure through |
that mysterious chasm,
with all his decanters,
plate, silver teapot, &c.,
and then draw our
own very homely
figures (in slightly
damaged shooting
coats and carpet slip-
pers) to the fireside.
My companion seemed
highly amused at
my surprise ; for when/
he asked me to go
with him to Jura,
Timmediately proposed
taking a boiled ham, a gallon of
beer, a bottle of whisky, and
other such rude necessaries of
life, supposing that we should have
resided in a cave; for Jura, though as
large as the Isle of Wight, may almost be
called uninhabited. Since the Norsemen named it Diwr ay,—the
164 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Deer Island,—Jura has ever been more noted as a deer forest than
as a place for colonisation. It may seem a misnomer calling these
wild tracts forests, where no cover grows bigger than will harbour
woodcock and adders, both of which abound greatly, but it is the
term always used even in other equally treeless districts. It may
be defended by the undoubted fact that all these islands and western
shores once waved with giant trees that would rival the American
backwoods. The impenetrable forest of Calydon extended all
over Argyle, its terrible depths peopled by wild bulls, boars, and
bears, and wilder Britons, formed an impassable barrier even to
the invincible legions of Rome. In the peat mosses, which cover
so large an extent of the Western Isles, roots of forest trees in
great quantities are found in the position in which they grew, five
or six feet beneath the surface of the super-accumulated moss.
On a steep, rocky bank by the house’ stands a most venerable
witness to this fact, in the presence of a hollow-hearted, old oak
tree, twenty-one feet in circumference, though very dwarfed in
height. A great part is dead, but some boughs yet had leaves,
proving there is life in this old relic, which has been an eye-
witness, and perhaps taken part—for the oak was a sacred tree
—in the mystic ceremonies of the Druids, “am fasga ra daraich”
—under the shade of the oak. Edinburgh savants opine that
this tree is more than fifteen hundred years old. Another smaller
one, a mere boy, which has probably not yet seen a thousand
summers, stands near. Both are growing on a steep, rugged,
rocky bank, out of crevices scarcely fit for brushwood. The wood
of the massy trunk has grown over the rock, like the gouty ankles
1 Ardlussa House.—Ep.
LETTER XXIII. 165
of an old man bulging over his shoes. It gives the impression of
the rock having cut into the heart of the tree.
Having breakfasted at an early hour next morning, we went
to the keeper’s cottage, where we saw some magnificent Scotch
greyhounds for staghunting, and then started off on a journey of
five miles over the most desolate, death-like tract of peat-moss,
greystone, and interminable straths of coarse, sprit-like grass. A
few black tarns or lochans only varied the surface. On one was
a solitary diver, alternately appearing and disappearing. This
sole instance of life amid such bleak sterility looked like the “last
man.” One could almost fancy at every dive that he was vainly
trying to commit suicide. Glok! glok! bark a pair of Ravens
high overhead—the Scandinavian pet, emblematic of ravening
and desolation. Hurrah! life at last! A string of wild geese
rise in a spiral out of a dismal lochlet with sonorous cacklings.
Ah! had we but known they were there! So we trudge on till the
head of Loch Tarbert appears in sight. This is the object of our
walk, and we trace its banks for some six miles or more of very
rough walking. The head of this loch is a large sheet of water
some two miles in diameter; then comes a very narrow channel,
only about a hundred yards wide, between two high precipitous
rocks, which again expands into another basin, speckled with little
heathery islets. A mile or so lower down comes another con-
traction, a narrow rocky channel, through which the tide rushes
like a river, swirling round the shattered splintery rocks forming
its banks. An almost continuous flitting goes on over its surface
of Shieldrake, Eiders, Widgeon, and other wild ducks, to and fro
going and returning from the sea to the feeding grounds afforded
M
?
166 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
by the shallow, muddy loch-head. The banks are perpendicular
crags, clothed with lichen and moss. So narrow is the inter-
vening thread of water in one place, so high and abrupt the
opposite cliffs, that it looks as if you could almost jump across.
On surmounting one more brown heathery wave, we come in sight
of a great gulf, apparently the open sea; but really it is the last
and largest reach of the loch. In the distance the land again
closes in, leaving only a narrow opening and thread of water
communicating with the ocean. Beyond this the hazy outline of
blue-grey Islay—dZla gorm glas—and above us the eternal Paps,
frowning from under a deep veil of rolling cloud.
About a quarter of a mile out from the cliff on which we stood
was a group of skerries, or small tide rocks, embossing the surface
of the water. Here we threw ourselves on the heather some
seventy feet above the level of the water at our feet. The
keeper, who accompanied us, produced his glass, and, after a few
moments’ sweep of the surface of the loch, simply said “ Sealchs,”
and handed the glass to my companion. When it came to my
turn to examine the spot indicated, I saw a herd of some two
dozen Seals lying in every possible attitude of lazy ease upon two
little skerries, the nearest one about a third or a quarter of a
mile off shore. Suddenly my attention was arrested by some-
thing peculiar; and though I had only seen drawings, and was
not in the least on the look-out for such a thing, yet I at once
felt sure that I beheld two Harp Seals! Sure enough a pair of
Harp Seals lay upon that rock, and a third one on another islet
half a mile to the left.
This animal is an inhabitant of Greenland. The instances of
LETTER XXIII. 167
its capture in the British Isles are extremely rare. I had never
before seen or even heard of one. It looks much larger than the
Common Seal, perhaps from its conspicuous colour against the
dark rocks; the others look black at a distance. The Harp Seal
is all snowy white, except for a curious harp-shaped black spot
across the middle of its back.
This is all I could remember, and devoutly did my congrega-
tion listen to me—the ancient keeper and the young officer.
Ardently did we long to strike the Harp with a conical bullet ;
but though I had my American rifle, what could one do at a
quarter of a mile without a boat on such a slippery subject as a
Seal? So there we lay watching them for some three hours.
The atmosphere being pretty clear, we could, with the aid of a
good two-foot glass, make them out very distinctly. At last the
rising tide gradually submerged them, and eventually floated them
off, for they were too lazy to move themselves, and seemed to take
a luxurious delight in being gradually washed away.
I noted down the remarks of my companions, who were quite
unaware of the existence of any such animal as the Harp Seal.
They were struck by its great size, its extreme whiteness, and the
black spot upon its shoulder and back. The Seals changed their
position more than once, and frequently turned their heads about ;
but it had no effect upon the colour of their hair. Of course
they were quite dry, as we had watched them three hours.
The keeper acknowledged never having seen such a thing
before, though he was aware that the fishermen talked of a large
Seal, called by them Ta-bevst.
I wrote an account of these Seals to the Field, which produced
168 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
a letter from Mr Edward Newman asserting the improbability
of its being the Harp Seal, and suggesting the possibility of its
having been the Grey Seal (Halicherus). After this I made all
the inquiries I could upon the subject, and got at least three pretty
authentic cases of the capture of a “ White Seal of extraordinary
size”—the best one being in Loch Scridain, Mull, by Mr
M‘Kinnon, a farmer whom I am acquainted with. In these
inquiries I have ascertained that the Western Islanders are
familiar with three species of Seal—viz., Ta-beist, Ron, and Bodach.
Ta-beist is the name generally applied by the natives to a large
Seal, far bigger than the Common Seal, also breeding at a different
season, and varying in many of its habits. This Gaelic word is
compounded of the obsolete word ¢a (water), which still survives
in the name of Loch Tay, and perhaps in the River Teign—a a ’n,
and beist (beast)—Water beast. Under this title I suspect they
confound the Grey Seal (Halichwrus), the Great Bearded Seal
(Barbatus), and perhaps the Harp Seal; in fact, anything which
LETTER XXIII. 169
is neither the Common Seal or Lén (pro-
nounced Lawn), or the Lesser Seal
or Bodach. This word signi- Sy 8 bias te vi’
fies “old man,” though it is ee 2S. 7 has
used in other senses, as when ap-
plied to a scarecrow, a hobgoblin, a red rock codfish, &. In this
instance it designates a peculiar dwarf seal, very much smaller
than the Common Seal, though consorting with it, and readily
giving the impression of its being merely the young of that
species. It is, however, now generally recognised as being quite
distinct. The minister of Colonsay assured me that he was well
acquainted with it, as were all the islanders. Mr James Wilson!
also mentions that he frequently killed them of the size of a
Common Seal at three months old, though they had grey beards
and decayed teeth, that were few in number, and remarks that
they were not so shy as the Common Seal, nor so solitary as the
Tapvaist (Ta-beist).
Towards the end of March last I received a fresh skin of a
recently killed young Seal. It was four feet long without the
flippers; very nearly pure white, only slightly tinged with yellow ;
the hair so soft and long it might be called woolly—admirably
adapted for a lady’s muff. My friend who sent it is a native of
the Hebrides, and kills many Seals annually. He is quite con-
versant with their habits, as he is also with those of the wild
fowl and other creatures which frequent that district, though not
scientifically or systematically. The following notice accompanied
the skin:—*I send you the skin of a Ta-beist, a young one of
1 Naturalist’s Library, Vol. XXV. p. 158, note.
170 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
about a month old. It has not got the black spot upon the back.
Its habits differ very much from those of the Common Seal. She
has her young in November, and it is found three or four yards
above high water mark, sometimes quite among the fern and
heather. They do not take to the water till six weeks old, when
they weigh seventy or eighty pounds. If disturbed, however, the
mother will make off with her calf, which she does by taking it
up upon her back and so plunging into the sea. Even after a
long dive, on rising to the surface, the young one remains securely
on its mother’s back. She comes to suckle it regularly at high
water, but her instinct teaches her to choose such spots that it is
impossible either to approach or lay in wait for them without
being seen or scented. The colour of the old Seal is a little
darker than the one I send you, and the black spot extends over
the back of the neck and shoulders. I cannot say at what age
the young ones get the black spot. I perceive no difference in
their shape from the Common Seal, though the old ones are
much larger, being seven or eight feet long and fully thicker than
a herring barrel in the body.”"
This is my friend’s history of the Ta-beist. He very thoroughly
proves it a very different animal from the Ron, though leaving it
doubtful as to which of the Great Seals he describes, and my
conclusion is that he confounds more than one species under the
name of Ta-beist, the Grey Seal being probably the commonest of
them. The season of breeding seems to be one criterion, also the
place of breeding. The Common Seal being apparently the only one
1 Undoubtedly intended to describe the Great Grey Seal, or Halicherus
gryphus.—Ep.
LETTER XXII. 171
whose young are born close to the water’s edge, take to that element
immediately, and only suckle at low water upon the sea-weedy
rocks just appearing above the level of the sea. All the greater
seals seem to breed almost inland, and the young require some
weeks or even months to prepare them for the sea, during which
time they change their first coat, which is white and woolly,
almost lamb-like in appearance.
Seals are now so scarce in all but the remotest spots that it is
worth while securing the attention of those few who have any
chance of visiting such localities to what we so particularly wish
to learn. As the general diffusion of guns within late years has
thinned, if not extinguished, many species of wild birds, as well
as beasts, so now the almost universal use of the rifle in its most
improved and deadly form will probably sound the requiem of
some more species of our indigenous fauna, or drive them from
our shores.
The Great Grey Seal has black markings also, but not so
distinct or pronounced as those of the Harp Seal.’
1 We are ourselves doubtful of the perfect identification of this Harp Seal by Mr
Graham. Yet he was a good and accurate observer, and his argument about the
names is exactly what we have ourselves ascertained. T'apvaist gives its name to a
rock in the Sound of Harris in the Outer Hebrides—Scuir nan Tapvaist—which, to
our certain knowledge, almost annually holds one pair of very large, very white,
very ancient Great Grey Seals. The Great Grey Seal appears, in certain lights and
shadows, almost of a silvery white, and so, indeed, also does the common species
(vitulina). On this Scuir nan Tapvaist (elsewhere spoken of—vide Fauna of the
Outer Hebrides, p. 24)—they have also, as certainly, bred. But again, on another
rock of the Sound of Harris, as related in the previous volume of this series already
quoted, Harvie-Brown is perfectly confident himself of his identification of a true
Harp Seal, killed by him, und fired at in the water, within a distance of five or ten
yards, but, alas! lost in a strong tide race, the harp marks across the back of the
adult being distinctly visible. —Ep.
XXIV.
KitmMory CoTraGr, LOCHGILPHEAD,
Ist February 1863.
THE locality in which I am now residing offers very little oppor-
tunity for observing anything very novel or remarkable in the
ornithological way. However, I will briefly sum up what little
experiences I have had since we last met (on paper).
During the last two summers I have had a most valuable corres-
pondent in a young friend, Mr Colin M‘Vean,’ who is on Captain
Otters’ surveying staff working on the outer islands. He was
my constant companion in my rambles about Jona and Mull, an
island famous for its bygone school of Ollai Mullach-—wise men
of Mull. But all the wise men of Mull of the present age have
taken themselves to Canada or elsewhere, so the only college open
there now is that celebrated one where students find “tongues in
trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good
in everything,” and certainly not least in the auspicious art of
observing the flight of birds. In this art we matriculated
together, and I place the most implicit reliance on the accuracy
of his observations. JI had one letter written from St Kilda,
where he was for several days, but latterly he was camping out
on detached service in a lonesome bay in the Isle of Barra. His
descriptions here give one an impression of a kind of Paradise. of
birds. Lochs studded with ducks and geese innocent of gun-
1 Colin M‘Vean—whose personal friendship the present Editor of these Manu-
scripts enjoys—son of the Rev. Dr M‘Vean of Iona; and who has also largely
assisted in reminiscences and Natural History Notes for this volume, as well as
illustrations contained in it.—Ep.
LETTER XXIV. 173
powder, while quantity is not superior to quality, as his list
includes birds which are barely recognised as Scottish. One of
these, a male Gadwall, he contrived to send to me (though this
was difficult where there was a post only once a month or six
weeks). The Stilt, Spoonbill, and Osprey figure, while Eagles
seem as common as Sparrows; every house keeps a tame one, and
my friend soon had a young Sea Eagle on his staff, which became
almost tame, though it resented being poked with an umbrella by
breaking the stick in three bits and scattering the silk to the winds.
ephrotii, Malle
On the 17th January Mr M‘Vean writes from the Ross of
Mull :—“ The only new thing in the bird way is that since we
brought our tame geese over to this side (mainland side of Iona
Sound) they at once took to Loch Potii, which as usual is fre-
quented by wild-fowl. In a few days they were joined by a
White-fronted Goose (I have no doubt whatever as to the species,
for I shot one last winter in Iona, and had him stuffed in Edin-
burgh). This rare bird became quite attached to the tame geese,
and came with them to be fed at the window. It was so tame
174 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
that I would not shoot it, though I have fired the gun almost
over its head without its moving. It remained about three
months quite quietly till the loch froze over last week, and the
geese were all frozen into it, and had to be released by the
Scarbh, which has come to end her days in quiet waters; since
then the stranger has disappeared, and, I fear, for good.”
The Scarbh, or Scart, is my old boat, in which I did what
service I could in the sacred cause. She has since been preserved
by my good island friends, on the same principle that the old
Victory still remains afloat and ataunto in Portsmouth Harbour,
with her guns aboard and her flag flying.
Mr M‘Vean adds :—“ My Eagle is quite reconciled to living on
this side the Sound. Though quite at large all day, he returns to
roost at night. I spent some time in Ardnamurchan to visit the
young laird. I discovered that the Woodcock bred in the dis-
trict in considerable numbers; from the castle windows every
evening I could count a dozen flying about, making a peculiar
purring noise. I also visited one of the largest heronries I ever
saw. It is on the cliffs at the Point of Ardnamurchan ; the rocks
are covered with ivy and shrubs, among which the Herons build.
It was a pretty sight pulling along the shore to see hundreds of
young birds sitting on the ledges, stretching their long necks to
look down at us.”
A fine male, in perfect plumage, of a Red-crested Pochard
(Fuliguia rufina) was shot in this neighbourhood (Craignish).
It was on a fresh-water loch, in company with Widgeon, but
without a companion of its own species. It is a beautiful bird ;
the bright red of bill and legs like coral, the tufted crest and
LETTER XXIV. 175
bay, or bright chestnut, of head and neck, far surpass the Red-
headed Pochard (Ff. ferina) in brilliancy of colouring, though
there is a sort of general resemblance, which may have occasioned
its being sometimes mistaken for it, and so not reported. I had
to point out its peculiarities even to some shooting neighbours
before they would acknowledge that it was not a Red-headed
Pochard. A young relation, on leave from India (Mr Edward
Jenkinson), recognised the bird immediately, it being very
abundant and giving great sport on the reedy ponds (jheels) in
his district (Cawnpore and Benares). It is called by the natives
Tal seer (Red head).
The skin of the Fujsina was in perfect condition, and when I
showed it to our neighbour, Captain Orde (son of Sir John Orde
of Kilmory), who is an arch-birdist, and has a very pretty col-
lection of specimens, which he obtained himself when quartered in
North America and other countries, he expressed a wish to take it
to London to exhibit at the meeting of the “Ibis” Club.1 So the
illustrious dead was introduced to that assembly. I afterwards
begged him to accept of it for his collection, and contented
myself with a coloured portrait which I made.
The Common Teal was the only other duck which he recognised
among the great variety which India produces. But though
shooting ducks is admirable sport, yet the economical plan is to
hire a duckman, who swims after the ducks with a calabash, or
earthen jar, having eye-holes, over his head, and catches them
1 “ British Ornithologists’ Union,” under whose auspices The Ibis, a journal of
ornithology, is published quarterly. This bird was exhibited at the meeting of
the Zoological Society of London by Mr P. L. Sclater, and an account published
in the P. Z. S. 1862, p. 163, and not to the members of the B. O. U.—Ep.
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
176
LETTER XXIV. 177
by their legs, bringing them ashore alive. Here they are put
into a dark hut made of wattles and bushes, with an inch or two
of water always running through it, where they are fattened and
killed as wanted. The darkness takes away their wildness, and
prevents them flapping themselves to death in attempting to
escape. The calabash story is of course well known; but I
always misdoubted it before.
I make an annual visit to Iona and the parts of Mull I used
to frequent, where I never fail to get plenty of all the ordinary
kinds of sea fowl. Last spring I went earlier than usual, and got
a pair of Grey Geese. I observed a number of the small black
Skua, which used to be very seldom seen about the Staffa Islands.
On these occasions I take a hamper, which I fill with Scarts, or
anything which comes to hand, just before starting home. I had
to sail some seven miles in an open boat to overtake the steamer
(not the regular summer boat). The water was studded with
Scarts, but as it was blowing very fresh at the time it was only
possible to shoot those which were right ahead, and pick them up
as the boat rushed past; yet with this difficulty I and the sur-
veying friend I mentioned before (Mr Colin M‘Vean) bagged
thirteen. I am extremely partial to scart soup; it is identical
with hare soup. I mention this because in a recent number of
the Times newspaper there is a very favourable review of a most
charming book on Normandy, by a Scotch gentleman residing
there, in the style of White’s Natural History of Selbourne (a
lady in Canada asked me if I had ever read Mr Selbourne’s
“ History of the Isle of Wight” !); but the reviewer, though agree-
ing with the author in everything else, protests against some of his
178 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Norman recipes for cottage cookery, especially that of making
savoury meat of Sea Crows. I have a mind to send a pair of
Phalacracorax to the Times office, with a recipe of how to make
hare soup without first catching your hare.’
T have a book on birds, published in 1805, intelligently written,
though quaint enough according to our notions, which mentions
some instances of the Cuckoo rearing its own young, which I think
I ought to transcribe, as a good correspondent, like a good house-
holder, should bring forth things old and new, in case of their
being turned to possible account. “The Cuckoo in some parts
of England hatches and educates her young, whilst in other parts
she builds no nest, but uses that of some other bird. Dr Darwin
thus writes :? —‘ As the Rev. Mr Stafford was walking in Glosson
Dale, in the Peak of Derbyshire, he saw a Cuckoo rise from its
nest. The nest was on the stump of a tree, among some chips
that were in part turned grey, so as much to resemble the colour
of the bird. In this nest were two young Cuckoos; tying a
string about the leg of one of them, he pegged the other end
of the string to the ground, and very frequently for many days
beheld the old Cuckoo feeding these young ones. Dr Darwin
thus continues from the Rev. Mr Wilmot, of Morley :—‘ In the
beginning of July 1792, I was attending some labourers on my
farm, when one of them said to me, “ There is a bird’s nest on
one of the coal-slack hills; the bird is now sitting, and is exactly
1 Professor Darwin mentions in The Naturalist’s Voyage to have read that the
islanders of the North of Scotland bury the rank carcases of fish-eating birds to
render them eatable.—C. W. G. [The Editor has partaken of scart soup, and can
fully endorse the above remarks. ]
2 Zoonomia, Section XVI. 13, 5, ‘‘ On Instinct,” Vol. I. p. 244, octavo.
LETTER XXV. 179
like a Cuckoo. They say that Cuckoos never hatch their own
eggs, or I could have sworn it was one.” He took me to the
spot. It was in an open fallow ground: the bird was upon the
nest. JI stood and observed her some time, and was perfectly
satisfied it was a Cuckoo. The reverend narrator goes on to
relate very minute particulars of the pains he took to watch the
progress of the incubation. There were three eggs laid among
the coal slack, in a nest just scratched out like the hollows in
which Plovers deposit their eggs. After some days two young
Cuckoos appeared. Mr Wilmot and several of his friends con-
stantly watched the nest until one was fully fledged.
Aristotle says the Cuckoo sometimes builds her nest on broken
rocks and on high mountains, but adds that she generally possesses
herself of the nests of other birds.”
XX V.
LITTLEHAMPTON, SUSSEX, 7th October 1866.
I can never hope again to have the opportunities I had while
at Iona of personally watching the birds of the West Coast at
all seasons of the year. My later visits have been temporary
ones, generally in the summer or early autumn, which are
the least interesting for that purpose.’ My late residence
at Lochgilphead, though in the same county and admitting
1 We cannot unhesitatingly endorse this opinion of our author from a natur-
alist’s point of view ; and we humbly think that all the seasons have their special
interest ; so much so, that one can hardly be compared with another, when there
is aught at all to observe, as regards their bird-life.— Mp,
180 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
of very great boating and ordinary shooting privileges, was
scarcely a place for good wild fowl shooting; though one
could hardly sail on Loch Fyne’s broad bosom or sneak along its
shores in a punt without seeing something to reward one for the
trouble. Still I have not added much to my notes on the wild
fowl of the West during my seven or eight years’ residence on the
margin of Loch Fyne. Where I am at this moment temporarily
located, on the shallow, monotonous shore of West Sussex, it is
almost an event to see a solitary Herring Gull or a disconsolate
Ring Dotterel; but many of the older “long-shore men” possess
ponderous old duck guns, and spin tantalising yarns of miraculous
flocks of wild fowl, ducks, geese, widgeon, and teal, which used
to swarm here before “ the marshes was drain’d.”
One old coastguardsman, who was stationed at Pagham when
Colonel Hawker used to frequent that muddy estuary, has told
me many interesting and amusing stories connected with that
great sporting oracle of South Britain, which are unpublished.
It is a great change conversing with a South Coast trawler after
being so long used to the dialect of the Highland fishermen; but the
same spirit is in both—-when a man has succeeded in shooting his
Curlew he is as earnest in the account of how he circumvented
her, whether he calls the wary bird a “ Crauntag or a C’lew.”
I see you retain my name as a corresponding member of the
society, though, alas! it is a mere honorary distinction now.
Rather than not contribute anything at all, I will relate what
came under my observation on the 5th October last. Though
the Swallow is abundant here, and the Swift very common, we
have not many Martins; but on this day I observed an immense
LETTER XXV. 181
flock congregated on a projecting moulding running under the
very projecting eaves of a house immediately opposite to mine.
They clustered like bees, two or three deep, scrambling for places,
some continually dropping off and taking short flights, and then
returning again to try to obtain a precarious footing. A sudden
thunderstorm with hail came on in the middle of the day. I
heard a noise in the room over where I sat as if somebody was
moving about. I went up to ascertain who it was; on opening
the door the rustling noise increased, and I immediately saw the
cause of it. The room was quite alive with little birds! They
fluttered about on the floor, were entangled in the bed and window-
curtains ; every article of furniture had some perched on it, while
the windows were quite filled with them fluttering against the
panes in vainly attempting to get through, just as bees and butter-
flies do in similar circumstances. A little room adjoining was
equally swarming. The housemaid coming at my call, held up
her hands in dismay at the state of the room—everything covered
with feathers and dirt. She was followed by the cat, which made
short work of two or three, till she was kicked out, and then we
set to work catching the birds and throwing them out of the
window. Catching them was quite easy; being all Martins they
could not rise readily and merely buzzed about the floor and walls
like moths. As they were all perfectly similar, I only killed one
to keep as a specimen. They were all young Martins—birds of the
year in immature plumage, and small. The window was open, and
is just under a projecting roof, under the eaves of which the whole
vast army was sheltering from the hail, and which took flight the
moment I entered the room; but the large detachment which had
N
182 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
come right in by the window were entraped and could not escape
without help. I threw over a hundred through the window.
Two specimens of the Grey Phalarope have recently been
secured in this neighbourhood. One I shot myself last week
while it was swimming on a pond some six miles inland among the
downs ; the other was shot the same day, also swimming on a horse
pond two miles nearer Littlehampton. These birds are sufficiently
rare to be of value to the collector, and both have been carefully
preserved. The peculiarity of this little bird is, that though belong-
‘ing to the order of Waders (Grallatores), and otherwise resembling
the Sandpipers in appearance and habits, it possesses the power
of swimming freely, its feet being partially webbed or lobated.
Both specimens are in their winter plumage, and were per-
forming their annual migration south from their breeding places
in Iceland. It was a very unusual place to find them, as they
usually frequent the shores, and are sometimes met with in
northern latitudes far out at sea, occasionally even out of sight
of land. No doubt it was stress of weather that drove them for
shelter and rest into such unlikely spots.
On 23rd May, at midnight, as I was preparing for bed, I
heard a tapping at the window where I sat with a light; on its
being repeated I opened the sash and in flew a little bird, which
I found was a White-throat. I kept him all night and released
him in the morning.
Last winter a Richardson’s Skua was brought to me alive,
captured by a crew of French fishermen in whose boat it alighted.
* T once shot one at about the same time of year on the Lake of Neuchatel, in
Switzerland, showing that they also travel by an overland route.—Note by Chas.
W. Graham.
LETTER XXVI. 183
A little before, a fine Osprey was shot sitting on a clothes-pole
devouring a freshly caught fish. In summer, also, a Spotted Crake
was knocked down near here by a man with a stick. Such shreds
and patches, crumbs of comfort, is all I have to support orni-
thological life upon.
As nothing is too mean for the notice of a Naturalist, I may
mention an observation on the Common House Fly. In the South
their wings when folded are still slightly opened, furcated, or
dove-tailed, and they are very annoying, alighting on one’s face and
hands, especially when one is in bed in the early summer mornings ;
but in Iona the House Fly is much smaller, and the wings shut
together quite close over the back; and, moreover, though they
dance aerial quadrilles inside one’s bed curtains, yet they never
annoy, tickle, bite, or alight upon one’s nose, face, or hands, like
their bigger brethren of the South, or, still worse, those of Canada,
where they are a perfect Egyptian plague indoors, as musquitos
are out of doors.
XXVI
LITTLEHAMPTON, SuSSEX, 2nd May 1867.
BEING required to write about the Hebrides from Sussex is like
being asked to sing a pleasant song in a strange land; however,
I have kept my promise and here are my notes, though they are
1In other parts of the West of Scotland known to us the Common House Fly is
w perfect pest in July and August, especially by certain river banks when one is
salmon-fishing.—Ep,
184 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
in fact nothing more than shooting reminiscences, probably more
amusing to the writer than edifying to the reader. I have
commenced systematically as you requested; the only objection
to such an arrangement being that it forces me to begin with the
land birds, whereas as my field of observation, the Lower Hebrides,
to which my notes apply, consists of very little land surrounded
by a great deal of water, my experience, as well as tastes, would
lead me to give the wet birds the preference to the dry birds.
However, with the following “ bald, disjointed chat,” I get through
all the Eagle and Hawk tribe, and so wash my hands of them.
The list of the little dicky-bird tribe is but short, for as for those
sylvan warblers which frequent woods and bowers we had none
of them. Those we had were such as could rough it in a rock or
serubby bush and pay for their board and lodging with a song.
Having run through the birds of prey and the small land birds, I
continue with the Wading and Water Fowl, and am glad to get
into salt water again. I rather neglected our little land birds,
and indeed the young companion of my shooting excursions
thought it an amiable weakness of mine to take any notice at all
of such “small deer.”
The number of Kingfishers here is worthy of remark. They
frequent the marshes and inundated pastures through the winter
and. live solitary.
On the 18th February the Thrush was singing blithely under
the full moon at about 11 p.m. The Cuckoo and Nightingale
were heard here on the 18th March, and the Swallow arrived
on the 19th March. These are the only notes this barren soil
affords, and with them I conclude,
XXVIL
Iona, November 4, 1850.
My pear Mortuer,—I send you a pair of magpies as an
addition to the bird book. I hope they will arrive safe, and I
would be obliged to you if you would stick them in. I got my
father’s letter saying that the goose came safe, and that he was
going to Paris with Car. You must keep a vacancy open in the
bird book for a splendid fellow which I captured this morning,
and I am now taking his portrait. Poor fellow! first he is to be
drawn by me, and then by the cook. I will show him off in a
plate, she will serve him up in a dish; his likeness will exercise
my palette, while his carcase (roasted, and well stuffed with
onions) will gratify our palates. This illustrious stranger is a
greylag goose—a bird peculiar to the Hebrides. I once got one
before, but have not had his picture yet; it is very different
from the bernacle goose. This morning I awoke by hearing Colin
(who has got a hawk’s eye for birds) shouting, “See the goose !
see the wild goose!” In exactly one minute and thirty seconds
I had my clothes on, and, gun in hand, I was out. The goose
had come and alighted along with our tame geese about thirty
yards from my window. The tame geese, however, drove the
stranger off immediately ; Colin and I set off after him. It has
been blowing a gale here for five days, and to-day was tremendous.
We at last overtook our friend in an open cornfield, where we
could not approach him, so we watched till he went to some
broken ground, then I stalked him carefully. I went to wind-
ward of him, because the wind was so powerful that the shot
would not have carried so far against it, and in such a case it is
186 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
much easier to see as well as to shoot with your back to the
wind. At last, after creeping a good distance, I suddenly popped
up from behind the last bank, and found myself within forty
yards of massa goose. He instantly rose into the air—bang !—
with a loud cackle he tumbled over and over, and there was my
beautiful greylag goose. I would sooner get him than half-a-
dozen bernacles, as they are much rarer. I am afraid you won't
be much edified with this essay upon goose-shooting ; but then,
only think, a greylag goose! How delightful! It’s enough to
make one cackle with delight.
1 The above is illustrated at page 176, the bird there represented being un-
doubtedly a greylag goose. Mr Graham has taken artist’s licence, however, by
introducing other examples also.—Ep.
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES, &c.
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES WRITTEN IN IONA,
INCLUDING THE ‘“‘WALK THROUGH GLENMORE, IN MULL.”
1849.—July 31st—Went to Soay island. Three stormy
petrels. Letter to Mr ;
August 2nd.—Sent petrel to Sir W. Jardine.
4th.—Shot at Calva island.
7th.—Walked to Lunig. Lowered myself by a long rope off
Siel island to get an owl’s nest.
15th.—Drew some tombstones.
16th.—Shot six sanderlings.
17th.—Shot rook—a rara avis here.
190 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
27th—To Staffa with Mr Baker of Norfolk; he sketched
while I shot scarts.
31st—Sailed about Island of Storms. Shot a scart and
guillemot.
September 6th.—Picnicked on top of Staffa.
October 4th.—Launched the ‘Scarbh;’ put some oatcake
and three leeks into the bag. There was already one leak in the
boat, which I got by running into the ‘ Breadalbane’s’ anchor
the other day. Took Dash and the two dodaigs; landed Mr
M‘Vean over the ferry, and then about four p.m. sailed out of the
Sound. Had a stiff breeze running along the south coast of
Mull; let fly the sheet two or three times; night overtook me
as I passed Lochbuie, and the wind fell light and baffling. As I
got fairly into the Sound of Mull, the moon rose; tide was
setting me south, the wind was variable, and there were passing
squalls of wind and hail. The night looked wild, and I was
afraid of the moon becoming obscured, so I determined to stand
across the Sound at once, and take my chance of what land I
should make. Soon after midnight, as far as I could guess, I
approached an island, where I determined to wait.till daylight,
as I saw a bad squall coming up.. After coasting a little way
round the lee side of the island, I went into a little bay, where,
to my delight, I found a lobster-box anchored in the middle; so
I moored the boat to the box, took down the mast, .spread the
sail over the stern-sheets, and, creeping beneath it, I wrapped
myself up in my plaid, with my three dogs round me. The
night was squally, and I heard the tide roaring, but the boat
lay very snug, and I slept pretty well, in spite of its, being
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. 191
rather cold, for, indeed, there was ice in the boat next
morning.
5th.—Soon after daylight, got up, put the boat in order;
breakfasted on my three leeks and oatcake, then hauled the boat
to the shore, and landed to search for water; found some, and a
quantity of blackberries; followed a path which led up to a
small house; the good man quite astounded at seeing a stranger
on his island at that time of day, and still more so when I told
192 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
him that I had left Iona last night. He informed me I was on
the island of Garveloch, five or six miles off the coast of Lorn,
and he was the tenant and sole inhabitant, except his wife and
family. I received a huge basin of crowdie, and in return gave
a bit of tobacco, which the man seized with such avidity as
showed that it was a rare commodity to this “ Family Robinson.”
About seven o’clock embarked, steering north, When I had left
the island, I observed a furious rapid about half a mile S.E. of
the island, which was what I had heard roaring so loud during
the night. Wind died away, and a dead calm came on, the tide
against me. Landed at Easdail island about twelve; bought a
pennyworth of bacca, and smoked it. Landed at Ardnacaple,
island of Seil, and smoked a pipe and let a heavy shower pass.
At last reached Loch Feochain at three or four o’clock, having
pulled against a foul tide since sunrise. Found Mr and Mrs
M‘Vean with Colin M‘Vean. They were much astounded at
seeing me.
6¢h.—At three A.M., a bright moonlight morning. Down to
the beach and launch ‘Scarbh;’ hard frost, boat crusted with
ice; had to take off shoes and stockings and wade in above the
knees to get the boat afloat. Pulled away with boy Angus to
Oban ; got there before seven ; hoisted the ‘Scarbh’ on board the
‘Dolphin. Mr and Mrs M‘Vean arrived by gig; embarked in
the ‘ Dolphin, and at noon got to Iona.
13th.—Went in big boat to Soay island with Colin, M‘Millan,
and Niel and Angus, the servants; had a potato picnic, and dug
up stormy petrels; had a stiff pull home.
1850.—January 19th.—Drew a golden plover, a heron, and
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. 193
a “scarbh.” Shot three couples of golden plover and a few grey
guillemots.
26th.—Shot red-legged gull, and sent it to Edinburgh to be
stuffed.
February 2nd.—Drew loon.
9th.—To Fiddra in ‘Scarbh’ to shoot ducks. Saw flocks of
three dozen bernacle geese. Shot pigeon, hoody crow, and gulls.
16th.—Drew hoody crow, comparative table of gulls’ bills,
legs, and quills, and a sketch of Ardfinaig.
17th.—Shot a ring-dotterel, gillebride (oyster-catcher).
23rd.—Drew map of Mull and of Iona. Shot curlew, ring-
dotterel, redshank, puffin.
March 2nd.—Shot buzzard at Tunisnaleuth.
3rd—Dyrew buzzard, diver or loon, great northern diver
for Mr Wood of Richmond, Yorkshire.
June 15th.—Sailed all round the islets to collect eggs, chiefly
terns and kittiwakes; nine dozen eggs
July 22nd.—Mr Keddie’s visit ; botanising with him; picnic
to Staffa; fine sport.
June
.—Became acquainted with two ornithological
gents from Glasgow—Mr Kemp and Mr Gibb.’ They had shot
a shearwater. Promised to send them some stormy petrels.
1 Mr John Gibb, merchant, Glasgow, died in March 1885. Mr John Kemp,
born in 1775, attained the great age of 100 years. He was the most faithful and
dear friend and companion of Mr Gibb in all their wild sports together. Both
these gentlemen were enthusiasts in field sports and athletic exercises, and were
naturalists of no mean capacity. They were well-known Scottish sportsmen of
their time, and from the records in our possession it appears that scarcely a
Hebridean, Orkney, or Shetland island had remained unvisited by them, both in
summer and winter. We have not been able to trace, however, as yet any literary
remains from the pens of either sportsman, though such would, if they do exist,
194 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
July 6th.—Fell in with a party of shieldrakes while sailing
across the Sound. I immediately shot one old one, and chased
a flock of unfledged ones for two miles, but they escaped me by
their active diving. An old one kept flying about and attempting
to divert my attention, but I did not fire at her.
13th.—Wrote some papers for Mr Keddie’s new guide-book.'
9th.—To Soay island; dug up stormy petrels to send to Mr
Kemp and Mr Gibb of Glasgow ; kept eggs for myself.
13t/.—Mrs M‘Vean and all the children went in the ‘ Scarbh,’
with the ‘ Loo-soo’ towing astern, laden with our basket, kettle,
jugs, &e., to Hilean-na-Slat, at the entrance to Iona Sound. It
created much amusement on board the steamer which passed us,
as we were sailing along with all the sails set and flags flying,
and the queer-looking ‘ Loo-soo’ in our wake.
15th—M‘Millan and I sailed to Staffa and spent the whole
day, which was fine and calm there. We did not land much, but
went round the island in the boat, poking into every cave. We
got more birds than one man could well carry up to the house.
Back at eleven P.M. This week I sent off large drawing of west
side of St Martin’s Cross to Mr Keddie.
27th—The beginning of this week wet and stormy. Com-
menced chalk drawing. Collecting seaweeds. There are very
few birds about now, nothing to be met with but gillebride or
oyster-catchers. At Fiddra there are flocks of curlew beginning
to collect, but very wild.
almost without doubt prove of much interest. There are obituary notices in
the newspapers of October 1875, the time of Mr Kemp’s death being the 26th
of that month. We are indebted to Mr D. A. Boyd for the above, and fuller
particulars. —Ep.
+ Glasgow : Maclure & Macdonald.—Ep.
196 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
WALK THROUGH GLENMORE.
1853.—November.—This trip was in October, towards the
latter end, when the weather began to break up. It was a
delightful sunny day that I started about noon from Bunessan,
with my knapsack and plaid, with the intention of walking across
Mull. At five, had dinner at the little inn at Kinloch, egad ain
agus potat (herrings and potatoes), and a drap o’ the craytur;
then off again, and when the grey dusk of night was beginning
to creep o’er the mountains, I passed under the foot of giant Ben
Mor, and entered the gloomy black gorge of Glenmore, the great
glen of Mull. It now became intensely dark, so I sat down to
wait for the moon to rise. Not a sound was to be heard in this
desolate region, except the tinkling of the mountain rills, and the
soft sighing of the night wind as it stole round the slopes of the
hill and across the moor, though so gently as scarcely to shake
the heather-bells or to make the white cotton moss bend its head.
Presently the full moon rose up into the clear blue frosty sky,
high above the mountain peaks, which were silvered in her beams.
The winding river and chain of lakelets far down at the bottom
of the glen glistened with her rays, and even the road itself
looked like a river of light curling along the mountain side. I
walked for several hours under this radiant moon till I came,
at about eleven o’clock, to a place called Ardjura, a wooded glen,
through the bottom of which runs a broad river. Here I was
suddenly startled by hearing an extraordinary noise, like that of
a person in the agonies of death, which seemed to proceed from
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. 197
the copse by the roadside. I stopped and listened, when suddenly
there burst from every side a roaring like that of a number of
bulls, only a much harsher, more quavering noise, more like a
howl. Now it sounded from the dark cover close at hand,
awakening all the echoes of the valley, and then was answered
from the shoulder of the mountain in a long bray, which rang
upon the clear, still night air, and died away in a lugubrious
groan.
Doran and I quaked, expecting every moment to see a rabble
route of fire-fanged, brazen-lunged demons rush across our road,
which here, over-reached by boughs partially obstructing the
moonlight, seemed tesselated with ivory and ebony.
The noise continued without intermission, and the trampling,
eracklings of twigs, and occasional coughings of some creatures
close at hand among the brake, seemed to be coming closer.
Just as I was about to invoke St Columba’s aid, and to vow a
vast number of tapers to be burnt at his shrine, I recollected
that this part of Mull was very much frequented by the wild
red deer, and that this was the time of year that the stags begin
belling or braying, when the antlered chief of the herd,
“ |. . Through all his lusty veins,
The bull, deep-scorch’d, the raging passion feels.
He seeks the fight; and, idly butting, feigns
His rival gored in every knotty trunk.
Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins.”
The very deep roar from the shoulder of the hill proclaimed
“a noble hart of grace” descending the brae-side to dispute the
chieftainship of the corrie with the stags of less degree.
Before I got near to the entrance of the great glen on the
oO
198 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
return journey it was nearly three o’clock. The morning, from
being very bright, had gradually overcast, blackened, and now
assumed a most threatening aspect; the inky-coloured clouds
hung upon the tops of the mountains, and seemed to be charged
with pitch. The wind was very slight, but it wailed and sobbed
through the mountain gullies, and moaned in irregular gusts
over the grey lichen-covered rocks in that peculiarly wild,
melancholy manner which forebodes a dreadful storm. I hurried
on as fast as I could, for I had many miles to walk through
“This sullen land of lakes and fens immense ;
Of rocks, resounding torrents, gloomy heaths,
And cruel deserts black with treach’rous bogs ;”
for I wished to reach the fords lest the coming rains should
make the rivers impassable, and before the darkness of the
evening, which was already closing in with unusual swiftness,
would make the fords dangerous. The clouds now came rolling
down the slopes of the mountains, till everything was obscured
from sight by their pall of blackness. A sudden, sharp blast of
wind flew across the moor; and immediately it was calm again ;
the ends of my plaid fluttered heavily, once or twice streaming out
before me. Doran, with tail and ears down, ran close up to my
heels, and in a moment, with a crash like thunder, the storm
burst upon us. The irresistible fury of the wind hurried me
along the road as it rushed past, now roaring at my ear, and now
howling and shrieking as it whirled along the valley. The river
and lake foamed and boiled, and then rose up in circling eddies
of spray, like wreaths of smoke, filling the air as the blast bore
it away up the sides of the hill. The rain poured down in hissing
EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. 199
sheets of water, deluging the whole face of the country; the road
was covered with water, and every rivulet was swollen into a
fierce torrent, bearing stones, and earth, and peat along with its
turbid, coffee-coloured waters. Add to all this the night soon set
in intensely dark. I hurried on, assisted by the storm on my back,
till at length I came to the rivers, which, happily, were still
fordable, though sufficiently deep and rapid, and every moment
iB . 8 pamfe Rxough Slinanore- \
becoming worse. After this the rain became heavier than I think
I ever saw it before (unless in the tropics during the rainy
season); it was difficult to keep the road in consequence of the
darkness, but the hollow rumbling of the water pouring into the
bog holes by the roadside gave warning of the danger of a false
step. Happily the twinkling light from the window of Kinloch
Inn was now glimmering through the darkness and storm across
the head of Loch Scridain, and after a vigorous push for about a
200 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MUL.
mile, crossing a narrow footbridge formed of two planks (which I had
to do on all fours), and fording another bad torrent, I at length ran
my nose up against the gable of the house, and, after groping along
to reach the door, I next found myself steaming before a huge fire
of blazing peats roaring up the chimney, which quickly dried the
Tona tartans, and made the outward man all that was comfortable,
while broiled herrings, potatoes, and tea did for the inner ; and then
with a hot tumbler, a pipe, and feet on the mantelpiece, Doran
and I listened as the casement rattled, the chimney rumbled, and
the storm battered against the gable of the little rattle-trap shanty
of an inn, feeling thankful that we were housed on such a night
as one would not wish one’s enemy’s dog to be out in.
NOTES FROM MINUTE-BOOKS. 201
NOTES FROM MINUTE-BOOKS OF THE NATURAL
HISTORY SOCIETY OF GLASGOW, &c.1
6th January 1852.—Mr H. D. Graham of Iona elected a Corre-
sponding Member.
(Copy Letter from Mr Graham to Secretary.)
“Tona, January 16th.
“Str,—I write to thank you very cordially for your obliging
letter, which I received by the last post, accompanying the diploma of
the Glasgow Natural History Society. I was delighted by the receipt
of the last, and I hope to derive much pleasure and advantage from
the connection.
“I beg through you, sir, to return my best thanks to that Society
for the honour it has thus done me in electing me a member.—I
remain, sir, yours truly, H. D. Grawam.”
* Communicated to the Editor by the courtesy of D, A. Boyd, Esq.,
Secretary of the Glasgow Natural History Society.
202 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
6th April 1852.—A paper was read by Mr Robert Gray from
H. D. Graham, Esq., Iona, “On the habits of the ice duck (Harelda
glacialis),” illustrated by specimens and drawings.
lst June 1852.—Mr Robert Gray read a paper from H. D. Graham,
Esq., of Iona, upon the rock pigeon. On the motion of Mr Gourlie,
Mr Gray was requested to transmit the thanks of the Society to Mr
Graham for his interesting communication.
5th October 1852.—Mr Robert Gray exhibited a specimen of the
stormy petrel, and read a letter from Henry D. Graham, Esq., of Iona,
descriptive of its habits,
7th December 1852.—The following communications from Corre-
sponding Members were then read, viz.:— .. “On the habits of
the black guillemot (Uria grylle),” by H. D. Graham, Esq., Iona.
Communicated by Mr Robert Gray.
4th January 1853.—Mr Robert Gray read two very interesting
letters from Henry D. Graham, Esq., Iona.
lst February 1853.—Mr Robert Gray read two letters from H. D.
Graham, Esq., of Iona.
3rd May 1853.—Mr Robert Gray read a paper by Mr Graham of
Tona, “On the habits of the cormorant.”
28th February 1860.—The secretary read a letter from one of the
Corresponding Members—Mr Henry D. Graham, of Ardrishaig—de-
scriptive of the appearance of wild-fowl in immense abundance during
the present winter on the shores of Loch Gair.
26th May 1860.—A communication was read from Mr Henry D.
Graham, of Ardrishaig, containing many ornithological notices of great
interest for the months of April and May. The species chiefly commented
upon were the great northern diver (Colymbus glacialis), the Sclavonian
grebe (Podiceps cornutus), the golden eye (Clangula vulgaris), and the
various tring found on the shores in the neighbourhood of his residence.
27th January 1863.—The secretary read a communication from
Henry D. Graham, Esq., Lochgilphead, one of the Society’s Corre-
sponding Members, in which he mentioned, as interesting additions
to the ornithology of the West of Scotland, the occurrence of the
gadwall (Querquedula strepera) on one of the Outer Hebrides, and the
red-crested whistling-duck (Fuligula rufina) near his own residence.
He also made the announcement of having seen the harp seal (Phoca
grenlandica, Miiller) at the island of Jura.
NOTES FROM MINUTE-BOOKS. 203
24th February 1863.—The secretary then read a paper “On the
occurrence of the harp seal (Phoca grenlandica) in Loch Tarbert, Jura,
with remarks on the habits of some other species frequenting the
western islands,” by Henry D. Graham, Esq., Lochgilphead, Corre-
sponding Member. Mr Graham had seen three of these rare visitors
to British waters in the above-mentioned locality while exploring the
loch in company with a friend. The seals were observed among a herd
of the common species occupying a series of shelving rocks about 300
or 400 yards off shore. One of the keepers who was of the party
having an excellent telescope used in stalking deer, Mr Graham and
his friends could distinctly make out the markings which characterise
the harp seal; and as the animals remained in full view for three
hours, constantly watched, the utmost care was taken to note down
the necessary particulars for after discrimination. Since observing the
animals, Mr Graham, after repeated inquiries, satisfied himself of at
least other three authentic cases of the capture of white seals of extra-
ordinary size, one of these occurring in Loch Scridian, Mull, under the
observation of Mr M‘Kinnon ; and as a result of these inquiries he had
besides acquired some highly interesting information respecting the
larger species of seal to be found on the outer islands. These he com-
municated in his excellent paper, from which it would appear that,
under the name of tapvaist or tabeist, the islanders are familiar with at
least three different species attaining a large size. Last spring he had
received from a friend—a native of the Hebrides—the skin of a
recently killed young seal of about a month old. It was a pure white,
and measured four feet in length without the flippers. This skin was
accompanied by a few notes, stating that the species was well known,
and that in an adult state it is seven or eight feet long, the body being
fully thicker than a herring barrel. The female has her young in
November, and it is found three or four yards above high-water mark,
sometimes quite among the ferns and heather. The young do not take
to the water till six weeks old, when they weigh 70 or 80 lb. If dis-
turbed, however, the old one will make off with her calf, which she
does by taking it upon her back, and so plunging into the sea. Even
after a long dive, on rising to the surface the young one remains
securely on its mother’s back. She comes to suckle it regularly at high
water ; but her instinct teaches her to choose such spots as render it
impossible for any one either to approach or lay in wait for them with-
204 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
out being seen or scented.‘ Mr Graham observed that the descrip-
tion of the markings of this white seal agreed exactly with that of
the harp seal, which is not likely to be mistaken, at least in the adult
state, for any other British species; but at the same time he expressed
his belief that among the islanders generally there were three large
seals confounded with each other—the grey seal (Halicherus gryphus),
the great seal (Phoca barbata), and the Greenland seal (P. grenlandica
of Miiller).
Mr Gray also communicated some facts of interest in connection
with the cormorant and oyster-catcher, selected from Mr Graham’s
correspondence,
Tth January 1868.—The secretary then read a paper ‘On the
birds of Iona and Mull,” by Henry D. Graham, Esq., Corresponding
Member.
28th January 1868.—The following papers were then read :—
ee I. “On the birds of Iona and Mull,” by Henry D. Graham,
Esq., Corresponding Member.
31st March 1868.—The following papers were then read :— .
II. “On the birds of Iona and Mull,” by Henry D. Graham, Esq., 5
Corresponding Member.
26th May 1868.—A communication “On the birds of Iona and
Mull,” by Henry D. Graham, Esq., Corresponding Member, way then
read.
24th February 1874.—-Before proceeding with the business on the
card, the secretary read a communication from Mr Robert Gray,
calling attention to the death of Mr Henry Davenport Graham, one
of the earliest Corresponding Members. Mr Graham joined the Society
in 1852, and since that time many contributions from him have been
read at the meetings, and these were much appreciated for their
accuracy and freshness. Mr Graham was one of the few writers on
birds who combined the strictest correctness with u strong poetic feel-
ing, all his communications showing a high admiration for nature in
her various moods, and a deep insight into bird-life, as observed by
him in the Inner Hebrides. Mr Graham’s chief contributions to the
Proceedings of the Society were forwarded from Iona, where he lived
for many years. He had during his residence on that island made
drawings of all the birds he had obtained there and in Mull, and from
1 This account appears almost in duplicate in Letter XXIII. (vide p. 167).—Ep.
NOTES FROM MINUTE-BOOKS. 205
these, and materials in his possession, Mr Gray intimated his inten-
tion of bringing out a memorial volume, containing all that Mr Graham
had written on the birds of Iona and Mull for the last twenty years.
On the motion of the chairman, it was unanimously agreed to record
in the minutes an expression of the regret with which the members had
heard of the death of Mr Graham, of whose interesting contributions
to the Society’s Proceedings many of them retain a pleasing and vivid
remembrance.
Memorandum.—November 1888.—“T have searched the accumu-
lated papers, correspondence, &c., in my hands, but have been unable to
find any MSS. or documents relating to Mr Graham’s communications
to the Society, with the single exception of the letter dated January
16 [1852]. It seems highly probable, therefore, that all correspondence
and other papers were collected by Mr Gray, and set apart for the
preparation of the memorial volume referred to in the minute of
meeting of 24th February 1874—a work which he did not accomplish.
Unless the MSS. were returned to Mr Graham, and retained among
his private papers, or sent for publication elsewhere, I cannot account
for their absence both from the repositories of the Society and from
the documents collected by Mr Gray for the preparation of the memoir.
“T regret that I have been unable to obtain any evidence regarding
the publication, in any Journal or Transactions, of any of the com-
munications read before the Natural History Society of Glasgow, but
which were not printed in its Proceedings.! D. A. B.”
+ Some of the Letters, as has already been stated, appeared in successive
numbers of Morris’ Naturalist, and are reprinted in the present volume of Mr
Graham’s writings. —Ep.
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Tur GoLtpEN EAGLE.
Eagles are much less numerous now than they appear to have been
a generation ago, judging from the numerous deserted eyries which
have been pointed out to me by the older natives, among the precipi-
tous cliffs of the south and west coast of Mull, as having been once
tenanted yearly by pairs of eagles. The increased number of guns,
and the ruthless war waged by shepherds against the larger birds of
prey in these later days, sufficiently account for their disappearance, as
sheep-farming extends into the districts once left to solitude and them.
Still an occasional eagle may be seen pursuing his lofty course over the
moors and mountains of Mull and the surrounding islands. A friend,
a few years ago, killed one out of a party of seven, a number which
would have been thought deeply significant in the days when augury
was a fashionable science. In Jura a pair flew close over my head as
I, with a friend and a gamekeeper, were lunching, with our arms piled
at a little distance. As we took them for herons, which are very
numerous there, we made no attempt to demolish them, till they sailed
slowly past without deigning to notice us, leaving us gazing after them
open-mouthed.
Tue WHITE-TAILED on Sra Eacue,
Gaelic, Lolair.
“‘Tolair-shuil na gréin,” the eagle eye of the sun.—Ossian’s Temora.
The same remarks apply to the sea eagle as to the last. Though
not an unusual sight to see an eagle flying in the heavens, I never had
210 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
opportunities of becoming familiar with either kind. We always sup-
posed that they held their royal court and had their nurseries in the
isle of Skye, whose lofty peaks form part of the marine panorama on
our northern horizon, My friend M‘Vean has had a tamed one for
some years, which is not kept in confinement, but sometimes startles
strangers by swooping past the windows. He says—‘ My eagle I
named Ronival, after the hill in South Uist where he was hatched.
He is a male, and a very fine bird. I have had him now for four
years, and he has assumed his white tail. He is allowed to fly about
at large, but is not fond of going far, and will always come at the call
of the kitchen-maid who feeds him, and for whom he shows the greatest
affection, and who can manage him even when in most ungovernable
tempers. He has a particular aversion to small boys, and will fly
at one going near him. The only animal he is afraid of is the pig,
and to hear a pig grunt is enough to make him fly off, even if it
should not be in sight. A well-dressed friend ventured one day to
touch him with the point of his fashionable light umbrella, which so
offended Ronival’s majesty that he flew at the offending instrument
and literally smashed it, breaking the stick and tearing the silk to
tatters, the owner gladly escaping in unscathed broadcloth himself,
at the expense of leaving his pet paraplwie a spolia opima in the claws
of Jove’s irate bird. Usually, however, he is affable enough, and
does no more mischief than occasionally killing a hen or two if his
own dinner is not served up punctually enough ; and this is really great
forbearance, considering he actually lives at large in a poultry yard.
This proves how very domestic this monarch of the cliffs may become,
that though a short-winged flight would carry him to the illimitable
freedom of the neighbouring sea cliffs and mountain tops, he has
never been known to ‘stop out of nights’ more than once or twice
during several years’ residence.”
Tue PrREGRINE.
Is frequently seen along the coast hunting for ducks, rock pigeons,
and sea gulls (if they were not flying over the water), but I never
discovered any nesting place, though I have seen the old birds hunting
at the time of the year when they might be supposed to have nestlings.
The presence of a peregrine is often announced by an unusual clamour
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 211
among the hoodie crows, who leave their search for shell-fish, &c.,
among the rocks, to follow the nobler rogue with their vulgar uproar,
and as the word is passed along the beach, the mob increases in
numbers and audacity till the falcon is fairly rabbled out of their
district. A peregrine who had just struck a red-legged crow was
thus assailed and so distracted by their unusual pertinacity (probably
on account of the red-leg being one of their cloth), that J walked up
and shot him in mid-air, holding his prey in one claw, while the other
was held ready to give the death-blow to any assailant should he
venture within reach of his grip, which they took very good care
not to do. Colquhoun, in his Moor and Loch, mentions seeing a
peregrine’s nest on the Bass Rock; and St John, in his Tour in
Sutherlandshire, states that he got some eggs at Inchnadamph. He
also adds, apropos of eggs, the following pertinent remarks (page 14) :—
“JT found that all the shepherds, gamekeepers, and others in this
remote part of the kingdom had already ascertained the value of this
and other rare birds’ eggs, and were as eager to search for them, and
as loth to part with them (excepting at a very high price) as love of
gain could make them, nor had they the least scruple in endeavouring
to impose eggs under fictitious names on any person wishing to
purchase such things. Indeed, I am very sure that many of the
eggs sold by London dealers are acquired in this way, and are not
in the least to be depended on as to their identity.”
THe KeEstREL.
This is by far the most abundant of the hawk tribe with us.
Its nest may be found in almost every precipitous sea cliff, which is
tenanted year after year if undisturbed. One pair made their nest
among the old cathedral ruins of Iona, whose tower is peopled all the
year round by a colony of jackdaws ; and that these jealous republicans
allowed them to do so is proof enough that they had nothing to appre-
hend either on their own account or on that of their nestlings. It is
generally admitted that the kestrel does more good than harm, prey-
ing upon mice and not destroying game: it is a pity therefore that
ignorant gamekeepers persist in destroying it, for the “windhover”
poised in the air as if nailed against the sky is a rural sight dear to
our boyhood, and not unnoticed by the poets, The young kestrel
212 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
reared from the nest becomes a very familiar pet, and may be per-
mitted to fly about at large, as it will not fly away far, and will come
at call and catch small pieces of raw flesh thrown up in the air. I
have seen the kestrel hawking for worms over a newly-ploughed field ;
he alights to devour one and then resumes his search, hovering a few
yards above the ground very perseveringly.
THe MERLIN.
This active little hawk is nearly as numerous as the last.
Hunting along the rocky shores and skimming with inconceivable
swiftness over the level fields, rising and falling as he tops a stone
dyke with a whirr/ his stiff pinions vibrating in the air. The nest
is not nearly so often met with as the kestrel’s. When resting
perched on an overhanging rock, the merlin often betrays its presence
by setting up a querulous cry, half scream, half chatter, and continues
scolding till the object that excites it—a boat or passer-by—has come
within easy gunshot.
Tue Common Buzzarp.
Seems to be extremely rare. I only obtained two specimens ; one
was in the rockiest part of Iona.
THE Sparrow Hawk.
The Gaelic for hawk is seabhag (pronounced she’ag); the smaller hawks are
generally called sperrak, which 1 thought to be a corruption of the English
sparrow hawk, till I found that it was derived from the word spéir, a claw,
and should be written speir-sheabhag or speir ag.
Is as rare as the last, or nearly so. It may be more frequent on
the mainland side of Mull, where there are some plantations and trees ;
but we must remember that this is where Dr Johnson told Boswell to
take good care of his staff, for he perceived that timber was very scarce
here.
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 213
Tur Common Harrimr.
The harrier is common, except at breeding time, when he probably
retires to the inland hills; at all other times he may be met with
hunting along the low land skirting the shores. I have observed that
one will sometimes take the same line of country for several days,
following the same course, and about the same hour. Acting upon
this observation I have waylaid them, or rather put myself in the
expected line of flight, as no strategy is necessary, and have been more
than once rewarded by so cutting off the depradator of chicken yards,
or at least of seeing him go by. The ring-tail, or white rump, which
gives name to the female, is a very conspicuous feature as she flies past.
She gives the idea of a much heavier bird than the male. The male is
a very pretty bird, and is commonly called here the white hawk. One
windy day | let one pass me on the sea-shore, mistaking it for a sea-
gull; a number of the small common gulls were flying and hovering
about, and the colour of the plumage and black-tipped wings were so
similar, that only the different mode of flight suddenly awakened me
to the fact that I had allowed a “white hawk” to escape.
Tue Waitt OWL.
A stray specimen is seen or shot from time to time on the mainland
of Mull. Though we have a venerable ruined belfry and a moon in
Iona, we have no owl to live in the one, or ‘‘mope her melancholy” at
the other; but we kept one, captured in Mull, for some time in the
garden, which became pretty tame, and afforded some amusement by
the consternation his presence occasioned to the small birds, though he
lived in the seclusion and shade of a thick bush."
Tue SHORT-EARED OWL.
Is found among the long heather on the moors of Mull, but I never
got its nest.
1 The nearest place I have found the white owl’s nesting place was a hole in
the haunch of the one-arched bridge which connects the island of Saog’hail (the
world) with the mainland of Lorn and the rest of the world!
P
214 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
THE Snowy Owt.
Gaelic, Cailleach oidhche—the old woman of the night, though Armstrong says it
should be coileach oidhche—cock of the night (dh is mute).
I never saw this owl in Scotland, though I have since in Canada ;
but a very old sportsman, whom I have long been acquainted with, and
whose correctness I can rely on, described to me “a large, perfectly
white owl” flying about the open, flat sandy extremity of Iona by
daylight, apparently hunting for rabbits. This was a good many years
ago, and after some very stormy weather. He had never seen anything
like it before, either in Argyll or Perth shires, in the course of half a
century’s shooting. Others also saw it, and I think my friend the
minister of Iona told me he had seen it himself, but T will inquire of
him if it was so.
Tot WarEr OUSEL.
Gaelic, Lon uisge—water blackbird.
Ts common in the burns of Mull at all times.
THE FIELDFARE.
Is an unusual winter visitant, only driven to our shores by hard
weather. The arrival of a flock was announced to me by an old shep-
herd, who declared he had seen ‘“‘a number of birds like starlings ;
they were starlings indeed, but that they must be very old ones, for
they were hoary with age!” This is one instance of the readiness with
which such men leading an out-of-door life observe anything unusual in
the way of birds or any other appearance of nature which may cross their
path, though not directly connected with their own daily avocations,
nor personally interesting to themselves. I have always trusted to
shepherds, fishermen, and such men, detecting the advent of a stranger
of this kind, and of willingly giving all the information that may be
required, if you keep on easy speaking terms with them. They readily
enter into your enthusiasm on the subject, and consider it a sort of
honour to their beat or district to have a rarity captured upon it.’
1 Quite true; but whilst on the one hand it is often difficult for a ‘‘ humble
inquirer after truth,” who is not intimately acquainted with the peculiarities and
idiosyncrasies of the Celt, to distinguish between the true and the untrue, or to
get at the facts of the case, it must be remembered also that the ‘imparted
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 215
Turn Rep WING.
The red wing visits us titfully in winter during hard weather, and
shelter themselves among the little glens and hollows of the hills.
Tue Sone Turusu.
Gaelic, Smebrach. Smeor is to anoint, to grease—probably from the smoothness
of its liquid notes.
Except during the breeding season the thrush is abundant, but as
that period approaches the greater number disappear, though a few
pair remain in our treeless islands and make the best of any stunted
bush that may serve the purpose of building in, so that the mavis’
melodious pipe is by no means wanting on these rocky shores. I have
often heard him making St Columba’s hoar old shrine ring with his
sweet notes, and be answered by a feathered comrade from the inland
rocks and knolls.
Tue BuacksirD.
Gaelic, Lon, or Lon dubh.
This favourite is also a winter bird, though a few pair breed
wherever they can find a suitable spot ; but the greater number come to
us only to pick up a winter subsistence, and then not only collect about
the gardens, stackyards, and abodes of man, but single individuals start
up from behind the grey-lichened rocks on the moors, or dart with wild
screams down the little gullies, where they are screening themselves
from the gale and mist sweeping along the hillside. These seem much
wilder and shyer than those which hop so familiarly about our gardens."
enthusiasm” spoken of in the text is apt sometimes to lead to quite unintentional
exaggerations ; or it may be a spirit of fun or mischief may intrude. This form
of pleasantry even crops up at times amongst educated persons, who have lived
long enough amidst the isles, to participate in the Celtic sense of humour, which
we need hardly demonstrate is not always understood by the Sassenach.—Ep.
1 It may be remarked that the word lon, according to Armstrong, means
both blackbird and elk, and in Campbell’s Tales and Legends he tells us that the
old blind giant of the Fingalian times was always lamenting over the good old
times of his youth, when the thigh-bone of the blackbird (/on) was bigger than
that of the red deer of these degenerate days (ftiadh).
The great Irish elk is supposed to have been still extant when the aboriginal
Briton hunted the wild bull, the bear, wolf, and beaver, so that the venerable
giant had good cause to regret the decline in size of his venison, if by Jon he
216 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
Tue Ring Ovuset.
Though I never procured a specimen, ‘the /on dubh, with a white
ring round his neck,” was recognised by the description as common in
Mull.
THE WHEATEAR.
This welcome pretty harbinger of spring and fine weather pene-
trates to all the islands that I have visited. I have found its nest in
the vestibule of a stormy petrel’s habitation, being within the enlarged
mouth of its burrow, on the little spray-swept islet of Soay, near Iona.
On the larger islands it is seen flitting about the sheep pastures from
one stone dyke to another, often making its nest in the interstices of
the rough stone fank, or enclosure into which the wild hill sheep are
driven at shearing time. In my boyish days the wheatear was in great
demand in Sussex for the table, where it was served up on fried vine
leaves, under the name of the English ortalan. It was captured by the
Southdown shepherds in traps, formed by very neatly cutting out an
oblong wedge of turf, leaving a deep trench about twelve inches by six,
across which is stuck a bit of stick, like a butcher’s skewer, supporting
two horse-hair nooses. ‘lhe turf is then laid with its grassy side down-
wards across the trench, leaving an aperture at each end uncovered, into
which the confiding wheatear is expected to hep while searching for a nest-
ing place, or seeking shelter from a passing shower, and so get entangled in
the treacherous nooses. These traps were cut about ten yards from each
other in continuous lines, stretching miles over the undulating Downs,
so that the shepherd when taking his daily rounds had only to lift the
turf slightly to discover whether there was any capture. At the end
of the season the inverted turf was replaced, leaving scarcely a mark
on the pasture. In this way great quantities were taken and brought
to market at a shilling a dozen. This practice seems to be discontinued,
as I now see no such traps where they used to be so common about
Beachy Head.
meant the elk, the extinction of which must have been a severe loss to fion or
“‘deer-eaters "—the name being derived from jfiadh dhuinne, ‘wild man” or
«wild deer men” (the dh is mute in both words), so descriptive of a savage man
subsisting by the chase, such as were the original Fenians,
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 217
Tur Stone CHAT.
Is a common bird in Mull and Jona. I have often been startled
by his note in some wild solitary spot. It so exactly resembles the nvise
made by chipping a rock with a hammer, that I have hurriedly looked
round expecting to see a stray geologist tapping a vein of gneiss, but
of course only to see a quaint little bird with a black head sitting on a
bunch of heather making this odd note of defiance at me.
Tue REpBREAST,
Robin makes himself at home in any of the islands where man has
his habitation, and meets with as much hospitality as in any other
portion of the British Isles. The crevices in the old ruins give him an
endless selection for nesting sites.
THe WHITE-THROAT.
Is occasionally met with in Iona among the shelter of the little
glens.
Tay GOLD-CRESTED WREN AND BLUE TITMOUSE.
These pretty little birds do not visit the smaller islands, though
they are plentiful enough on the mainland of Lorn and lower Argyll-
shire, where there are copses and hedges to shelter them.
Tue Heper Sparrow,
Is abundant wherever man has made his abode, hopping about our
little gardens and cultivated patches, contented to remain where he
can find anything like a few bushes or shelter for himself and his little
nest, and picking up his subsistence without wandering far from home.
THe Grey WaGTAIL.
Is a not unfrequent summer visitor, but less abundant in the isles
than on the mainland.
Tue Pirp WaeralL,
This familiar little bird is met with on all the inhabited islands,
flitting about the pastures in summer, and tripping about the poultry-
yard and the precincts of the byres in winter. A hen will often make
218 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
a savage rush at the little intruder with the intention of pecking it,
very like an irate dame running at a small boy “to lend him a box o’
the ear.” The wagtail, of course, easily evades the onslaught of the
hen, and alights again within a yard of her tail with a flirt of his tail
and a cheery tee-wheet, seeming to say, “All right, old lady! don’t
bother yourself on my account!” I suppose the more marked plumage
of the wagtail attracts the attention of the poultry more than the
equally pert but less motley clad sparrows; and a fact that favours
this supposition is that of a tame canary escaping from its cage and
eventually alighting in the hens’ yard, where we expected easily to
recapture it, but before any of us could interfere the hens flew at the
interesting foreigner and demolished him.
Tur Meapow Pipit.
Is common enough all summer time, but whether they remain
through winter or not I do not recollect observing.
Tut Rock Piprr.
I look on this little bird with peculiar interest and affection
from the very unusual haunts and habits that he atfects. Though his
appearance is so like that of his congeners of the woods and meadows,
yet you find him at home on the remotest and most desolate islets,
round which the restless surges moan unintermittingly from year’s end
to year’s end. When stalking sea-fowl among the huge sea-beaten
rocks, there you are sure to meet the irrepressible rock pipit on the
slippery rock within a few feet of the boiling surf, and the sight of the
little, modest shore-going bird in such a scene of savage wildness and
isolation is almost comforting and reassuring, as though there could not
be danger where such a delicate, feeble creature finds himself comfortable
and secure. On such occasions he shows no alarm at your appearance,
as if knowing you had no designs against him, but only salutes you
with a wild ¢weet, and does not suspend his busy inspection of the dubs
of water left by the retiring waves. This quiet, confidential demeanour
earns your gratitude; it is so unlike that of the fussy, red-shank
“tatler,” who would have alarmed and aroused the whole coast with
all his call and clamour, his unnecessary tumult; and you leave the
gentle bird behind, to find another one of the same species enjoying
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 219
himself in a stil] more horrible spot, and apparently ready to alight on
your gun-barrel as you level it over a breastwork of wave-polished
rock at (say) a party of golden eyes riding buoyant as corks just out-
side the broken water. I picked up one rock pipit, recently killed, that
was cream-coloured, so much so that my boat-mates declared I had
discovered a dead canary bird. Did his unusual colour attract the
attention of some other bird and so lead to his death? The hoodie
crows which flock in such numbers to feed at ebb must be most
unamiable companions for these poor little pipits of the rock.'
Tue Raven.
Gaelic, Fitheach, which gives name to several places, probably from being the
site of a raven’s nest. Craigan am fi’ ich, The raven’s rock was the slogan
or war-cry of the MacDonnels.
Though the ravens are not very numerous, yet a day can scarcely
be spent upon the moors, or even sailing among the
“‘Tsles that gem
Old Ocean’s purple diadem,”’
clustering round the west coast of Mull, without at least hearing the
hoarse bark of a pair of ravens flying high up in the air. On a calm
day you hear the whistle of their stiff quill feathers each time they
strike the air, as they sail slowly along at a great height, and no doubt
carefully observant of everything within ken of their bold cunning
eyes, far below and extending far around. Gloak! gloak! the leader
hoarsely cries from time to time; and gloak! gloak! his consort
replies, in tones a little softened by greater distance, and so they glide
away out of sight and hearing into mere black specks, bound on a
predatory cruise to look after young lambs on the lower haunches of
Ben Mor. ‘The old Vikings could not have adopted a more significant
emblem than this bold ravener, not only on account of his instinctive
love of blood and plunder, but also for his wonderful hardiness and
contempt for the extremes of weather and climate. I have seen him
buffeting against a Hebridean gale of wind in full swing, and braving
the terrors of a Canadian winter snowstorm, when no other fowl showed
‘a feather—acting up to the maxims of the Norsemen, “never to strike
sail, blow high or blow low, and never to surrender till they had re-
* Albinos are constantly persecuted by members of their own species even
unto death.—-Ep.
220 THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL.
ceived twelve bad wounds.” A pair of ravens breed on Iona, and
having one season harried their nest of five eggs, they at once com-
menced building another in a still more inaccessible spot on the other
side of the island.
Tue Hoopep Crow.
Gaelic, Fionnag, which is derived fron skinning or flaying.
The black carrion crow is unknown in the western isles, as far as
my experience goes, but to make up for it there is no end of hoodie
crows. The hoodie has got a terribly bad name, and his best friend
could not say much in his favour, supposing he ever had a friend, which
I do not suppose is possible. A greedy, cowardly, destructive creature,
with an ugly look and hateful voice. But though no doubt ready
enough to commit any villany upon young game, eggs, chickens, and
even young lambs, yet in these wild districts, where there is not much
game to injure, he picks up his subsistence on the bountiful supply
atiorded by the receding tide, and upon this multiplies exceedingly ;
indeed, at feeding time, I might often string five or six at a shot, as
they are too fat and impudent to get out of the way. Sometimes a
grave synod of these sombre-hued creatures will be gathered round a
stranded fish ; another flies up in the air with a crab, which he lets
fall to be broken on the rocks beneath. If he fails the first time, he flies
a little higher, but he always descends himself so quickly as to alight
almost at the same instant as the desired morsel, perhaps lest one of
the brethren should put in a claim for it. On the grass above high-
water mark are certain favourite rocks where the hoodies carry the
molluscs they have picked up to be cracked at their leisure, and these
favoured spots are marked by perfect mounds of débris of shells.
While busy searching for food, little noise is heard among them, unless
a heron or a hawk comes sailing by, and any large bird of this kind is
instantly assailed by all the voices and the united strength of the
company, which cordially join in frightening off the interloper. They
roost at night among the rocks, and in summer their nests are very
abundant there, though the birds are not so numerous then, as many
of those who only sought winter quarters on the shore retire elsewhere
to breed. The nests are generally easily accessible, and the birds are
very persistent in replacing the eggs if taken, and rebuilding the nest
if destroyed. J have tried the experiment of putting bantam’s eggs,
Rite sae
THE BIRDS OF IONA AND MULL. 221
daubed with indigo, in the place of the crow’s eggs, and have removed
the newly-hatched chickens before the foster-mother discovered her
mistake. This implies, of course, a good deal of watching and intru-
sion, which the old birds did not mind in the least ; indeed, though
the hoodie has plenty of cunning, he has not a particle of shyness or
modesty. On the first fine day in February the hoodie may be heard
uttering his love note. He is not a bad-looking fellow then in his ash-
coloured doublet, with glossy black sleeves, hood, and tail. He sits
perched on some high rock basking in the sun, his stomach no doubt
well filled, the picture of a sweet, unctious rogue, and emits a note like
“corrack,” with rather a metallic ring, and much more jubilant than
his own usual dull caw. Indeed, this sound is so connected in my
mind with a bright suu, a smiling blue sea, and the first burst of
spring, that, were I a poet, I should feel inspired to address an ode to
the hoodie as the herald of spring-time. When he utters this vernal
note, he opens his wings and tail after the fashion of the cuckoo, and,
in a word (as love is said to transform the savage), the hoodie looks
almost handsome at such times. One of our most amusing pets was a
hoodie crow, whose wing was amputated at the pinion after being shot,
and lived a long time in the garden, where he laboured most assiduously
in destroying every kind of vermin ; and whenever any one opened the
gate, he would come forward with a hop, skip, and a jump, and look
up with one goblin eye, as much as to say, “What have you got for
poor old hoodie?” I am obliged to conclude by bringing up a nearly
obsolete saying, which would go to prove that this bird was considered
a very serious scourge in bygone days, at least in one part of the
kingdom—
“The gule, the gordon, and the hoodie craw,
Are the three worst things that Moray ever saw.”
The gule is, I believe, the rag-weed. What the gordon was to the
low country farmers of Moray needs no explanation.
THE JACKDAW.
We have plenty of daws all the year round, plentifully diffused
over the isles and the mainland.