Fig. 118.—Razorbill (winter plumage). ¹⁄₁₁ natural size.
The razorbill is a handsome species, with shiny white under-plumage, the black upper parts relieved by a stripe of pure white on the head and a narrow white bar across the wing. The black, axe-like beak is also crossed in its deepest part with a white mark in the form of a crescent. Its life is mostly passed in the water, where it sits high and floats buoyantly like a duck. It feeds chiefly on small fishes, for which it dives, and when pursuing them uses the wings as well as feet in propulsion. On the sea the razorbills are usually seen in small flocks; they fly like diving ducks, with rapidly-beating wings, in a line, one bird behind the other, and so close as to be almost touching. In March they resort to the bold headlands and precipitous rocky cliffs which are their breeding-places. They are then seen associating with guillemots and puffins; for, albeit these three auks differ in appearance and breeding-habits, they seem to be aware of their relationship, and mix together in a friendly way. It may, however, be noticed that on a ledge where many guillemots and a few razorbills are assembled, as a rule the latter form a little group by themselves. This species is somewhat silent, although they occasionally utter long cries, somewhat gull-like in character, but lower and more guttural. When disturbed they emit a different sound, peculiar and human-like in tone, resembling the low moans of a person in pain.
A single egg is laid by the razorbill, and is placed in a cranny, sometimes in a hole several feet deep; occasionally the egg is deposited in a hollow on a rocky ledge, and in such situations razorbills and guillemots are found breeding side by side. The egg is large and handsome, the ground-colour white, spotted and blotched with different shades of blackish and deep reddish brown, and sometimes chocolate-colour. Both birds take part in incubating. An observer who has studied the habits of this bird says that in most cases the young fly down to the sea, usually early in the morning, and being once there, do not return to the rocks, as their wings are not then strong enough to enable them to mount upwards. ‘Sometimes,’ he writes, ‘when the young one is obstinate, the mother will take it by the back of the neck, and fly down to the sea.’ (Zoologist, 1871, p. 2427.) He adds that the parent teaches the young bird to dive by taking it by the neck and diving with it.
The breeding season over, the birds do not return to the rocks until the next spring.
Common Guillemot.
Lomvia troile.
Head, neck, and upper parts blackish brown; under parts white. Length, eighteen inches.
The common guillemot is the most abundant of the four species of auks which inhabit the British Islands. Less handsome and striking in appearance than the razorbill, in its habits it is just as interesting. It is found in the breeding season on all parts of our coasts where extensive rocky cliffs and headlands exist, and it has not been driven away by persecution. At some points on the coast, as at Bempton Cliffs and Flamborough Head, and at the Farne Islands, and other localities farther north, the guillemots are still exceedingly numerous; south of Yorkshire they have greatly diminished in numbers, and several of the old breeding-stations have been abandoned.
On the sea their habits are similar to those of the razorbill: they swim, dive, and fly in strings in the same manner. In appearance the two species differ considerably. The guillemot has a dusky brown or mouse-coloured upper plumage, and a straight, sharp beak, very different to the massive weapon of the razorbill.
Early in spring the guillemots begin to gather from the neighbouring seas at their old breeding-stations on the summits and sides of cliffs that face the ocean. Of all birds that breed in communities, they are the most social, or, at all events, crowd closest together. Where they breed on the side of the cliff, as at Flamborough, they may be seen standing in close rows and groups on every ledge or jutting rock large enough to afford them a footing. A strange and fascinating spectacle is presented when the cliff is looked at from below, and the guillemots are seen in thousands, row above row, lessening in size by distance until, near the summit of the vast precipice, they appear no bigger than dippers; all standing erect, their backs to the dark stone wall, and their shiny, white breasts to the sea. It is also strange to see them gathered on the flat, table-like tops of the ‘Pinnacles,’ a group of isolated, precipitous rocks at the Farnes; for here the space they have is not sufficient to properly accommodate the vast number of birds that resort to it. Their appearance forcibly reminds the spectator of a human crowd on some fête day in a populous city; but the bird-crowd does not move or sway: each guillemot keeps its place, for it is standing over its own egg, which must be kept warm at any cost. In spite of this fixity they are all very alert and lively, turning their beaks about this way and that, and, when alarmed, all bobbing and bowing their heads as if to salute the intruder. Although silent birds when on the sea, the guillemots become loquacious at their breeding-grounds. They are very excitable, and when two or three neighbours quarrel, as they frequently do, or a bird returned from the sea drops on to a ledge where others are standing, or when male and female meet again after a separation of a few hours, there is a great deal of noise. They utter a hoarse, long-drawn cry, like the beginning of a dog’s howl before he has cleared his voice; also a succession of laughter-like notes, and other sounds resembling the cries, guttural and clear, of the black-headed gull; and, sometimes, short, barking notes like those of geese and sheldrakes.
Like most short-winged, heavy-bodied birds, they fly straight to their point, rushing violently through the air with rapidly-beating wings. It is amusing to watch a bird flying in from the sea, and attempting to alight on a ledge of rock already crowded; one or two birds at the spot the new-comer attempts to drop on threaten to strike with their beaks. This demonstration prevents him from coming down among them; and, being incapable of gliding off to one side to drop on to some other spot, or of suspending himself in the air for a few moments, he is compelled to drop down without touching the ledge, sweep round, and go straight out to sea again, and after flying a distance of three or four hundred yards, or farther, to circle round and come back to the ledge a second time. The frustrated bird is often seen to fly right away out of sight.
The single egg of the guillemot is deposited on the naked rock, without any nest, often dangerously near the edge. The sitting-birds are very careful when leaving the rock to push the eggs from under them; but when suddenly startled, as by the report of a gun fired from a ship or boat for the amusement of cockney excursionists, the eggs may be thrown off the ledge, and in some instances have been seen to fall in a shower down the cliff-side. The guillemot lays a handsome pear-shaped egg, very large for the bird. No other bird lays eggs so various in colour; so greatly do they vary that two eggs cannot be found quite alike, even among hundreds. The ground-colour in different specimens is white, cream, stone-colour, pale blue, reddish, and many shades of green, from a strong, bright green to olive-green. The egg is spotted and blotched with brown, black, and deep red, and grey. The guillemot when incubating does not lie on its egg like most birds, but stands with the egg between its legs, which are placed very far back, as in all auks, divers, and grebes. It is a pretty and amusing sight to watch the guillemot, when returning to her egg after a short absence, walk on to it, and adjust and readjust it a score of times, using her beak and chin for the purpose, before she is satisfied that it is effectually covered. Incubation lasts a month, and only one young bird is reared in the season; if the first egg is taken she will lay a second, and sometimes a third.
In strange contrast to the guttural croaking and barking cries of the adults is the language of the young bird. Its hunger-note is a far-reaching, sandpiper-like cry, clear, tremulous, and musical. In imitation of this sound the young bird is called a willock; and it is supposed that the name of guillemot, which is of French origin, is also derived from the young bird’s cry.
Black Guillemot.
Uria grylle.
Plumage sooty black, except a patch on the wing-coverts, which is white with a black bar; bill black; legs vermilion-red. Length, fourteen inches.
The black guillemot is much less abundant than the last species. On the south and east coasts it is extremely rare; its principal breeding-stations are on the west coast of Scotland; and it also breeds on the north and west coasts of Ireland. It differs greatly from the common guillemot in size, being scarcely more than half as large as that species; also in colouring, the whole plumage, except a broad white patch on the wing, being glossy black, the legs and feet bright red. It breeds in the same situations as the common guillemot, but is not so gregarious; and in its nesting-habits it resembles the razorbill, laying its eggs in a hole or cranny in the rocks, or beneath a rock on the soil. Two eggs are laid, in ground-colour white, or pale stone, or pale green, spotted and blotched with brown and grey. The young are covered with a greyish black down, and their first plumage is mottled black and white.
Fig. 119.—Little Auk. ⅛ natural size.
The black guillemot frequents the seas in the vicinity of its breeding-station throughout the year.
Brünnich’s guillemot (Lomvia bruennichi) is a very rare straggler from the arctic regions to the northern islands and coasts of Scotland.
The little auk (Margulus alle) is an irregular visitor, sometimes in considerable numbers, to the British coasts, especially in the north. It is a circumpolar species, and straggles southwards in winter, but seldom approaches the British Islands, except in very severe weather.
Puffin.
Fratercula arctica.
Fig. 120.—Puffin. ⅑ natural size.
Crown, collar, and upper parts black, all the rest white; bill, bluish at the base, yellow in the middle, bright red at the tip; legs and feet orange-red. Length, twelve inches.
Among British birds, whether sea or land, the puffin is the most singular in appearance—a small auk, compact in build, conspicuous in black and white plumage, broad collar, white, owlish face, and great beak, short and adze-shaped, but massive as a toucan’s. The brilliant colours of this beak, too—red with orange bars—give it a curious resemblance to the enormous organ of the tropical bird. One may look at the puffin almost daily, as he stands on the rocks, always with something of surprise at his strikingly handsome yet grotesque appearance. The fanciful idea suggests itself that the bird is a masquerader; that the visible, brilliantly coloured beak has been artificially made, and put on over the natural beak, just as in the case of a human masquerader a large, gaily coloured, artificial nose is sometimes placed over the natural organ. And the puffin’s beak is, in fact, something of a mask, or superimposed ornament; and after the breeding season its surface peels off in horny plates, and is shed like the deciduous bark of certain trees. The bird’s beak in winter is moderate in size and dull-coloured.
The puffin is a spring visitor to our coasts, and after rearing their young the birds scatter over the sea and journey southwards. The puffins found on the east coasts of England and Scotland during the winter months are probably migrants from more northern latitudes. Puffins are found in summer in most localities on our coasts where razorbills and guillemots collect; on the south coast they are rare, but increase as we go north, until at St. Kilda they are found gathered in incalculable numbers. As a cliff-breeder the puffin deposits its egg in a hole or cranny in the rocks like the razorbill, but never on an exposed ledge, as the guillemot always, and the razorbill sometimes, does. Sometimes they take forcible possession of rabbit-burrows among sandhills, driving the owners out; but they prefer making their own burrows in a soft peaty soil, such as they find at St. Kilda and in many other localities. In March or April they return from their wanderings on the sea and begin the great business of the year. Where they are in large numbers and make their burrows near each other the soft soil is so undermined by them that it is difficult to walk over the ground without breaking through the turf and sinking almost knee-deep in their holes at every few steps. When engaged in digging the birds are so intent on their work that they may be approached very closely, and sometimes even taken with the hand. The burrow is three or four feet in length, sometimes more, and at the extremity a single egg is laid, oval in form, large for the bird’s size, and white, faintly spotted and streaked with grey. The young bird is covered with black down, and has a comparatively small beak, of a dark colour. He is a squat, lumpish creature, owlish in appearance. When fishing to supply its young the parent puffin has the curious habit and faculty of keeping the small fishes it catches in its beak, where they may be seen as the bird swims on the sea, their tails and a portion of their bodies protruding at the sides of the beak and mouth. How it manages to hold several little fishes in this way and go on diving and catching others is a puzzle. On arriving at the burrow the fishes are placed on the floor inside, or at the entrance, where the young bird sits waiting for its parent, and are then picked up one by one and put into the open, hungry mouth.