At first it puzzled me to account for their strange attitude; but when I discovered that each female bird lays but one egg, it was readily explained.
SHOOTING LUMME.
They make no nest whatever, but lay their single egg upon the naked rock. The bird can only cover it, therefore, by placing it upon its end, which is accomplished with the bill, and then she sits down upon it as if it were a stool.
After listening a while to their strange cries, and watching their movements, we remembered that we had come out to try our luck at shooting. Our guns were fired simultaneously, and down came plump into the water birds enough to make a meal for the whole ship’s company. But what a change now there was in the aspect of the cliff! Following the discharge of the guns there was an instant of calm. It seemed as if every scolding voice was hushed. Every bird had leaped into the air; and now the wild flutter of their wings, as they darted away from the rock, was like the rush of a tornado; while they were so numerous as they passed over that they threw a shadow on us like a cloud. Having sprung from their eggs so quickly, many of them were left insecure, and a perfect shower came spattering down the cliffs.
But the birds did not long keep the air. They soon lit upon the water, with a great splash, about a quarter of a mile from the cliff, perfectly blackening its surface. Some of them did not even go so far; but, wheeling about in mid-air, they put back in haste to get once more upon their eggs before they had time to cool; and those who took the water quickly came back, despite the danger, to shelter their precious treasure of a single egg.
Many of the birds were now observed to be in a state of violent anger with their nearest neighbors, and, as they sat there upon their stools, they reminded me of angry fish-wives. With ruffled feathers they were continually scolding each other at the very top of their shrill voices; and, not satisfied with this, they plucked out each other’s feathers, and tried to gouge out each other’s eyes. When it is borne in mind that the birds must have numbered millions, the volume of sound may be well imagined. It was at first difficult to account for all this disturbance, except upon the ground of pure love of fight. Presently, however, I observed that there was a deeper cause at the bottom of much of the difficulty. Many of the birds were in fact arrant thieves, and were guilty of all manner of dishonest devices to cover up their crimes. In short, they stole each other’s eggs, seemingly without compunction of conscience. The bird must sometimes leave her egg, for she can not remain there and starve to death while the chick is hatching. She may be a careless bird, and as she leaves the ledge, her precious egg may roll off the cliff after her and thus be destroyed; or her neighbors may roll it off while quarrelling. Upon her return she looks for her egg, but does not find it; she at once suspects that it is lost, and knowing that to remain virtuous is to be chickless, she instantly decides in favor of theft, and steals the first egg she can lay her bill upon; and then down she sits upon it with as much coolness and unconcern as if it had belonged to her from the beginning. When the true owner of this stolen egg comes back, she may steal in like manner, or she may accuse some other bird with the theft. Perhaps she may accuse the right one; but right or wrong, if there is an accusation, there is sure to be a fight; and perhaps, before the fight is ended, the egg which is the cause of the quarrel may roll down the cliff; and then both birds get even by turning thieves again. But the egg is not always left without a protector, for the male bird sometimes sits upon it while his mate goes off to feed. The poor fellow, however, likes this business little enough, and I observed that the female did not trust to his faithfulness to the family interest holding out very long, for she invariably caught her breakfast (small shrimps) as speedily as possible, gave herself a hasty dip in the sea by way of a morning bath, and hurried back; whereupon the uncomfortable benedict of a lumme betook himself to freedom with a scream and a rush that is very enlivening.
It did not require a great many shots to satisfy us with lumme-shooting. It was a barbarous sort of sport, and verily, in the sportsman’s sense of the word, there was no sport in it at all. Having knocked over about twelve dozen, we returned on board, leaving the poor frightened birds at such peace as they might find in the confused state of the private property which must have resulted from our so often driving them from their family stools.
ESAC.