Among the Birds in Northern Shires

se inland precipices of the northern shires; when the Raven and the Buzzard made them their home. For the purpose of the present work we propose to glance at the few birds that frequent t

avage glens as are in the vicinity of Castleton. As examples of the crags of millstone grit we have the noble range of rocks known as Wharncliffe, that crest the valleys like a series of colossal bulwarks, below which is

common bird is the Rock Dove. Whether this white-rumped Dove is the truly feral Rock Dove, or whether they are descendants of tame birds run wild, it is perhaps difficult now to say; but our own opinion leans to the latter view, because we believe that the true wild Rock Dove is found nowhere but on maritime cliffs. Whatever their origin, however, here the birds are now, and wild enough. Their abundance is reflected in the names that they have inspired for "Dove" river, and "Dove" dale, both of them famous haunts of these birds. They nest in crevices of the limestone crags, and their habits generally are very similar to those of their relatives along the coast, which they also resemble closely in appearance. Another, yet much smaller colony of these Doves, is to be found in the range of crags that crest the right-hand side of the Rivelin Valley going westwards, close to the Norfolk Arms at Hollow Meadows. We can state from long personal observation, confirmed by keepers and others, that these birds arrive at this place in February, and after rearing several broods during the spring and summer and early autumn, that they leave in October. We have seen these birds perch up

ance upon the sea-cliffs of the northern shires. From Yorkshire northwards to the Hebrides and the Shetlands, one stirring scene of bird-life after another in bewildering numbers crowd upon the observer. From Flamborough's cliffs to the Pinnacles at the Farnes; thence onwards to the Bass Rock, and across the Highlands to the Hebrides and to St. Kilda

Razo

e can obtain some faint idea of the bird wonders of the place. For more years than "the oldest inhabitant" of Bempton or Flamborough can recall, the birds have bred here in enormous numbers and have been as regularly robbed. The Guillemots and Razorbills and Puffins are somewhat irregular in their date of return to the cliffs in spring. Sometime towards the end of April is perhaps an average date, although they have been known to come back as early as February (1884). At the Farnes they are apparently earlier, assembling usually some time in March. The young and old birds generally leave the breeding-places for good during the last ten days of August in both of these localities. The eggs of the Guillemot are the easiest to obtain, being laid upon the ledges and in the numberless little hollows about the cliffs; the Razorbill deposits its big solitary egg in a crevice where in not a few cases it is absolutely safe from man; the Puffins, breeding nearer to the top of the cliffs, lay their single egg in burrows. It would be impossible here to describe the wonderful variety in the eggs of the Guillemot: they are by far the most beautiful of any of those of the sea-fowl. Great numbers of these eggs are taken for food; and we can remember how the climbers at Flamborough used to return home to breakfast hungry as Hawks, and break the pretty eggs into the frying

Gann

g at the beginning of May, but, as is the case with Rooks, the operation is not commenced simultaneously by all, and a fortnight later, when many of the nests contain an egg, there are a good number of others in an uncompleted state. At this time many of the birds flying about will be remarked with pieces of turf or other material in their bills, which they will thus carry for a long period without attempting to alight and work it into the unfinished nests. The grand home of the Gannets here is situated upon the north, north-east, and west cliffs. Here on the grassy downs, near the edge of the cliffs, numbers of Gannets may be seen standing quietly, some fast asleep with their head buried in the dorsal plumage. We have caught Gannets when thus asleep, but care must be exercised to grip the bird firmly round the neck, or a stab from the formidable beak will reward the would-be captor's rashness. The nests are made almost anywhere-at the top of the cliffs amidst the broken rocks and crags, lower down the cliffs where any ordinary climber can reach them, and, most numerously of all, on the ledges far below which are only accessible with the aid of a rope. To say the least, the nest is not a very attractive one; it is often trodden out of all semblance to such a structure, and frequently covered with droppings and slime, whilst around it are dead and decaying fish, many of them disgorged when partly digested. The hot sun soon completes the work of decomposition, and generates a fearsome stench which it requires all the fortitude of an enthusiastic ornithologist to tolerate. The nests are made of sea-weed, turf, straws, and scraps of moss, the soil from the turf being trampled into a mortar-like mass and binding the whole together. In a shallow cavity at the top of this cone-like structure a single egg is laid, originally white coated thickly with lime, but soon becoming stained into a rich brown from contact with the big webbed feet of the parent birds. Numbers of nests in some spots are crowded together, often so closely that the cliff is literally white with sitting birds. The noise is deafening. The Gannets in the air are quiet enough, gliding to and fro in a bewildering throng, but the birds on the cliffs and the grassy downs at the summit, those that are standing or sitting, ke

e in number, green, or olive, or brown, of various shades, marked with darker brown and gray. Then amongst the cliffs great numbers of Guillemots and smaller numbers of Razorbills deposit their eggs in suitable spots; whilst the Jackdaw and the Rock Dove frequent them. The Daws are great robbers of eggs, and as soon as the Auks or Kittiwakes chance to leave them unprotected the foraging birds beat along the cliffs and pounce upon them, carrying them off transfixed on their bill. The Herring Gulls prefer the grassy downs in the hollow on the north side of the Bass, making their somewhat slight nests amongst t

hazy sort of a way, whilst the wonders of their bird-life were even more traditional to most of us. Nowadays St. Kilda has become ornithologically "fashionable"; it is considered quite the correct thing to "do" the archipelago, and the place has become popularized-we had almost written a much stronger, if perhaps not quite so genteel a word. Sixteen years ago we visited the islands and published an account of their bird-life-the first, we believe, that had been written for nearly twenty years. We have in various works still further emphasized the richness of the place from an ornithological point of view. This, we profoundly regret to say,

of St. Kilda itself completes the watery enclosure. The cliffs that buttress the western isle of Soay, though not so high, are in their way as picturesque; whilst both islands literally swarm with birds, some of them the most local in the British avifauna. Then lying away to the north, four miles from St. Kilda, in lonely isolation, towers the lofty island rock mass of Borreay, with its two attendant satellites, Stacks Lii and Armin, all sacred to the Gannets that in tens of thousands crowd upon them during the summer months. This island itself rises nearly sheer in parts a thousand feet or so from the ocean. Undoubtedly the grand secret of the charm that has attracted sea-birds in such numbers to these rocky islets is their utter isolation and loneliness, combined with the vast food supply furnished by the surrounding sea. These isl

liffs that he was compelled to take off his breeches and turn them into a bag to hold them! But there are more interesting birds to us, perhaps, breeding on Doon, and these are the Fork-tailed Petrels. They have their nests in burrows upon the grassy summit of the island. Those we discovered were on the western end, nearest to St. Kilda, and made in the rich soft soil, the burrows some two to five feet in length. At the end of this burrow the Petrel makes a scanty nest of dry grass, moss, and roots, upon which it lays a single egg, white in colour, faintly marked with dust-like specks of brown and gray. Sometimes a nest is dispensed with altogether. We caught som

k-taile

oay is its grand head-quarters, but great numbers breed in suitable localities on every other island in the group. This Petrel is also nocturnal in its habits, lying close concealed in its burrow during the day, coming out at dusk to search for food over the surrounding sea. St. Kildans say that the Manx Shearwater is one of their first bird visitors in spring, and amongst the last to leave in autumn. Probably the real fact of the case is that the bird haunts the islands throughout the year. Towards the end of May this Shearwater commences to lay. It provides a scanty nest of dry g

Fu

low in the soil, or even to deposit its egg on ledges of the cliffs. In some parts of the cliffs the nests are so close to each other that from a distance the birds seem crowded together into great white masses. Beyond a small portion of dry grass the Fulmar makes no nest, although some we found on Doon were hollows lined with small bits of rock. The single egg is white, rough in texture, and with a strong pungent smell. Of all the varied scenes of bird-life that it has been our good fortune to witness, not one has been quite so impressive as that we witnessed from a shoulder of Connacher, when, after a stiff climb from the village, we suddenly came upon the assembly of Fulmars at their nests. The first thing that impressed us was the silence of it all. We had hitherto been so used to a noisy din as an inseparable accompaniment to a gathering of sea-fowl that the silence of these Fulmars seemed almost weirdly strange. We can only compare this scene to a dense snow-storm in which each flake was a separate bird. In an apparently never-ending throng the big white birds drifted by, those nearest to the cliffs passing in one direct

he St. Kildans' wealth; thousands of them are killed and salted for food; thousands of eggs are taken for a similar purpose. When caught, the Petrels are made to vomit a quantity of oil i