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So valuable are these ropes, that one of them forms the marriage portion of a St. Kilda girl; and to this secluded people, to whom monied wealth is little known, an article on which, often life itself, and all its comforts, more or less depends, is far beyond gold and jewels.

The favourite resort for seafowl, particularly the oily Fulmars, is a tremendous precipice, about thirteen hundred feet high, formed by the abrupt termination of Conachan, the most elevated hill in the island, and supposed to be the loftiest precipitous face of rock in

Britain.

How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The Crows and Choughs, that wing the midway air,

Show scarce so gross as beetles; half way down

Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!

Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring bark,

Diminished to her cock; her cock, a buoy, Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,

That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.

Such is the beautiful description of Dover Cliff, by Shakspeare; but what would he have said, could he have looked down from this precipice in St. Kilda, which is nearly three times higher, and so tremendous, that one who was accustomed to regard such sights with indifference, dared not venture to the edge of it alone? But, held by two of the islanders, he looked over into what might be termed a world of rolling mists and contending clouds. As these occasionally broke and dispersed, the ocean was disclosed below, but at so great a depth, that even the roaring of its surf, dashing with fury against the rocks, and rushing, with a noise like thunder,

into the caverns it had formed, was unheard at this stupendous height. The brink was wet and slippery,the rocks perpendicular from their summit to their base; and yet, upon this treacherous surface, the St. Kilda people approached, and sat upon the extremest verge; the youngest of them even creeping down a little way from the top, after eggs or birds, building in the higher range, which they take in great numbers, by means of a slender pole like a fishing-rod, at the end of which was fixed a noose of cow hair, stiffened at one end with the feather of a Solan Goose.

But these pranks of the young are nothing when compared to the fearful feats of the older and more experienced practitioners. Several ropes of hide and hair are first tied together to increase the depth of his descent. One extremity of these ropes, so connected, is of hide, and the end is fastened, like a girdle, round his waste. The other extremity is then let down the precipice, to a considerable depth, by the adventurer himself, standing at the edge: when, giving the middle of the rope to a single man, he descends, always holding by one part of the rope, as he lets himself down by the other, and supported from falling only by the man above, who has no part of the rope fastened to him, but holds it merely in his hands, and sometimes supports his comrade by one hand alone, looking at the same time over the precipice, without any stay for his feet, and conversing with the other, as he descends to a depth of nearly four hundred feet. A bird-catcher, on finding himself amongst the Fulmars' nests, took four, and with two in each hand, contrived, nevertheless, to hold the rope as he ascended; and striking his foot against the rock, threw himself out from the face of the precipice, and returning with a

bound, would again fly out capering and shouting, and playing all sorts of tricks. Frightful as such a display must be to those unaccustomed to it, accidents are extremely rare; and the St. Kildians seem to think the possibility of a fatal termination to these exploits almost out of the question.

panied with a certainty that he was
about to faint; the inevitable con-
sequence of which, he had sense
enough left to know, would be the
certain death of the boy, and, in all
probability, of himself, as in the act
of fainting, it was most likely he
would fall forward, and follow the
rope and boy down the precipice.
In this dilemma, he uttered a loud
despairing scream, which was for-
tunately heard by a woman work-
ing in an adjoining field, who, run-
ning up, was just in time to catch
the rope, as the fainting man fell
senseless at her feet.

It is, indeed, astonishing to what
a degree habit and practice, with
steady nerves, may remove danger.
From the island of the South Stack
above mentioned, boys may be seen
frequently scrambling by them-
selves, or held on by an urchin or
two of their own age, letting them- We shall add two more, equally
selves down the picturesque preci- hazardous, and one fatal. Many
pice opposite the island, by a piece bird-catchers go on these expe-
of rope so slender, and apparently ditions without any companion to
rotten, that the wonder is why it hold the rope or assist them. It
does not snap at the first strain. was on such a solitary excursion,
Yet, without a particle of fear, that a man, having fastened his
heedless of consequences, they will rope to a stake on the top, let him-
swing themselves to a ledge barely self down far below; and, in his
wide enough to admit the foot of a ardour for collecting birds and eggs,
goat, and thence pick their way followed the course of a ledge,
with or without the rope, to pillage beneath a mass of overhanging
the nest of a Gull, which, if aware rock: unfortunately, he had omitted
of its own powers, might flap them to take the usual precaution of
headlong to the bottom.
tying the rope round his body, but
Here too, as in St. Kilda, acci-held it carelessly in his hand; when,
dents are said to be of rare occur- in a luckless moment, as he was
rence, though, of course, they do busily engaged in pillaging a nest,
occasionally happen; but escapes, it slipped from his grasp, and, after
sufficiently appalling to make the swinging backwards and forwards
blood run cold to hear of, are com- three or four times, without coming
mon enough.
within reach, at last became sta-
tionary over the ledge of the pro-
jecting rock, leaving the bird-catcher
apparently without a chance of es-
cape,-for to ascend the precipice
without a rope was impossible, and
none were near to hear his cries, or
afford him help. What was to be
done? death stared him in the face.
After a few minutes' pause, he made
up his mind. By a desperate leap
he might regain the rope, but if he
failed, and, at the distance at which
it hung, the chances were against
him, his fate was certain, amidst
the pointed crags ready to receive

The first we shall mention happened about two miles from the South Stack, on the rocky coast of Rhoscolin. A lady, living near the spot, sent a boy in search of samphire, with a trusty servant to hold

the

rope at the top. While the boy was dangling midway between sky and water, the servant, who was unused to his situation, whether owing to a sudden dizziness from looking down on the boy's motions, misgivings as to his own powers of holding him up, felt a cold, sickly shivering, creep over him, accom

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him, over which the waves were dashing far, far, below. Collecting, therefore, all his strength, with outstretched arms, he sprang from the rock, and lived to tell the tale, for the rope was caught!

The next occurred at St. Kilda; where, amongst other modes of catching the sea-fowl, that of setting gins or nooses is adopted. They are fixed in various places frequented by the birds. In one of these, set upon a ledge a hundred and twenty feet above the sea, a bird-catcher entangled his foot, and not being at the moment aware of it, was, on moving onwards, tripped up, and precipitated over the rock, where he hung suspended. He, too, as in the precceding case, had no companion; and, to add to his misfortune, darkness was at hand, leaving little prospect of his being discovered before morning. In vain he exerted himself to bend upwards, so as to reach the noose or grapple the rock. After a few fruitless efforts, his strength was exhausted, and in this dreadful situation, expecting, moreover, that the noose might give way every instant, did he pass a long night. At early dawn, by good fortune, his shouts were heard by a neighbour, who rescued him from his perilous suspension.

The last we shall relate, terminated in a more awful manner. A father and two sons were out together, and, having firmly attached their rope at the summit of a precipice, descended, on their usual occupation. Having collected as many birds and eggs as they could carry, they were all three ascending by the rope, the eldest of the sons first, his brother, a fathom or two below him; and the father following last. They had made considerable progress, when the elder son looking upwards, perceived the strands of the rope grinding against a sharp edge of rock, and gradually

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giving way. He immediately reported the alarming fact. "Will it hold together till we can gain the summit?" asked the father. "It will not hold another minute," was the reply; our triple weight is loosening it rapidly!" "Will it hold one?" said the father. "It is as much as it can do," replied the son, "even that is but doubtful." There is then a chance, at least, of one of us being saved; draw your knife, and cut away below! was the cool and intrepid order of the parent ;-" Exert yourself,you may yet escape, and live to comfort your mother!" There was no time for discussion or further hesitation. The son looked up once more, but the edge of rock was cutting its way, and the rope had nearly severed. The knife was drawn,

the rope was divided, and his father and brother were launched into eternity!-BISHOP STANLEY'S Familiar History of Birds.

THE HAMPSHIRE FOWLER. GILPIN describes the occupation of fowling on the Hampshire coast as very hazardous. The fisherman, who in summer plies the shores at high water, with his line or his net; in winter, takes his gun as evening draws on, and running his boat up into the little creeks, which the tide leaves in the mud, lies there in patient expectation of his prey.

Sea-fowl commonly feed by night, and when the fowler hears the noise of a flight of them in the air, (like a pack of hounds in full cry,) he listens attentively, and if he is so fortunate as to have them alight near him, he listens with still closer attention for any little sound which there may be among so numerous a host (for though they march in music, they feed in silence); it is so dark, he can take no aim; he therefore gives his fire at a venture;

and instantly catching up his other gun, fires again, where he supposes the flock to rise in the air. His gains for the night are now decided; and he has only to gather his harvest, groping about in his mud-pattens in quest of his booty, and picking up, perhaps a dozen, or perhaps not one.

There was an unhappy fowler, who was seeking wild ducks, and intent only on his game, and who found himself suddenly surrounded by the returning tide; and though it was in the day time, his mudpattens prevented his running fast enough to get out of the danger. As a last resource, he went to a part of the plain which was as yet above the water, and striking the barrel of his fowling-piece (which was very long) deep into the mud, he held fast by it, waiting for the ebbing of the tide. The water made a rapid advance, it covered the ground on which he stood-it rippled over his feet-it gained his knees-his waist -button after button was swallowed up-till at length it advanced over his very shoulders. With a beating heart, he gave up himself for lost. Still, however, he held fast by his anchor, and looked round in vain for a boat. While he was making up his mind to the terrors of sudden destruction, his attention was called to a new object. He thought he saw the uppermost button of his coat begin to appear: still the turn of the tide was so slow, that it was long before he could assure himself that the button was fairly above the water. At length, however, a second button appearing, his transports of joy may be imagined, and they gave him spirits to wait till the water had entirely retired.

Mud-pattens are flat pieces of wood, tied to the feet to prevent their sinking in the mud.

BIRDS CLUSTERING FOR WARMTH.

Ir is curious to witness the assistance which some animals will afford to each other under circumstances of danger or of difficulty. I have observed it in several instances, and it shows a kindness of disposition which may well be imitated. It is not, however, confined to their own species, as the following fact will prove. A farmer's boy had fed and taken great care of a colt. He was working one day in a field, and was attacked by a bull. The boy ran to a ditch, and got into it just as the bull came up to him. The animal endeavoured to gore him, and would probably have succeeded, had not the colt come to his assistance. He not only kicked at the bull, but made so loud a scream, for it could be called nothing else, that some labourers, who were working near the place, came to see what was the matter, and extricated the boy from the danger he was in. I have seen cattle, when flies have been troublesome, stand side by side, and close together, the head of one at the tail of the other. By this mutual arrangement flies were brushed off from the head of each animal as well as their sides, and only two sides were exposed to the attacks of the insects. Sheep have been known to take care of a lamb

when the dam has been rendered

incapable of assisting it, and birds will feed the helpless young of others.

Birds also will cluster together for the purpose of keeping each other warm. I have observed swallows clustering, like bees when they have swarmed, in cold autumnal weather, hanging one upon another, with their wings extended, under the eaves of a house. I have also heard more than one instance of wrens being found huddled together

in some snug retreat for the purpose of reciprocating warmth and comfort. The following interesting communication on this subject was made to me by Mr Allan Cunningham, an author of whom his countrymen are justly proud, and who, I trust, will long continue to delight his admirers with the productions of his pen.

He says, "I have once or twice in my life had an opportunity of answering that touching inquiry of Burns

'What comes o' thee?

Whare wilt thou cower thy chitt'ring wing

An' close thy e'e?"

this occasion they were magpies+ not birds of song, but of noise. I went out with my brother, now in the navy, one fine moonlight winter night, to shoot wood-pigeons in a neighbouring plantation. The wind was high, and we expected to find them in a sheltered place, where the soil was deep, and the sprucefirs had grown high. As I went cowering along, looking through the branches between me and the moon, I saw what seemed as large as a well-filled knapsack, fixed on the top of a long, slender ash-tree, which had struggled up in spite of the firs, which you know grow very rapidly. I pointed it out to my brother, and seizing the shaft of the tree, shook it violently, when, if one magpie fell to the ground, there were not less than twenty dropt in a lump at my feet. Away they flew, screaming, in all directions. One only remained on the spot which they occupied on the tree, and I shot it, and so settled what kind of birds had been huddled together to avoid the cold. I looked at them before I shook them down for a minute's space or more, and could see neither heads nor feet: it seemed a bundle of old clouts or feathers." JESSE.

"One cold December night, with snow in the air, when I was some ten years old or so, I was groping for sparrows under the caves in the thatch, where you know they make holes like those bored by swallows in the river-banks. In one of these holes I got a handful of something soft; it felt feathery and warm, and a smothered chirp told me it was living. I brought it, wondering, to my father's house, and took a look at it in the light. The ball consisted of four living wrens* rolled together, the heads under their wings, and their feet pulled in, so that nothing was visible outside save a coating of mottled feathers. This I took to be their mode of keeping themselves warm dur- ON THE FEATHERS OF BIRDS. ing the cold of winter. If you ask, IF we had never seen the covering if I am sure my memory serves of birds, we could have formed no me rightly, I answer Yes; for hav-conception of anything so perfect ing allowed one of the wrens to escape, it flew directly to where my father was reading at a candle, and I had the misery of receiving from his hand one of those whippings which a boy is not likely soon to forget.

When eighteen years old, or thereabouts, I met with something of the same kind: there was a difference, indeed, in the birds, for on

The Scotch call them cultic-wrens, on account of their short tails.

and beautiful; and which, by uniting in the highest degree the qualities of warmth, lightness, and least resistance to the air, forms a vestment so appropriate to the life which the animal is to lead. While we observe the general aspect of the feathered world, we must admire the wisdom and goodness of the Deity in this part of his creation; and

+ Magpies are called by the Highlanders, "Plack and Plue Purds," on account of their colour.

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