Reader, I wish you had been there, that you might yourself describe the wild scene that presented itself to our admiring gaze. We were separated from the rolling swell of the Gulf of St Lawrence by an immense wall of rock. Far away toward the east and north, rugged mounds innumerable rose one above another. Multitudes of frightened Cormorants croaked loudly as they passed us in the air, and at a distance fled divers Guillemots and Auks. The mossy beds around us shone with a brilliant verdure, the lark piped its sweet notes on high, and thousands of young codfish leaped along the surface of the deep cove as if with joy. Such a harbour I had never seen before; such another, it is probable, I may never see again; the noblest fleet that ever ploughed the ocean might anchor in it in safety. To augment our pleasures, our captain some days after piloted the Gulnare into it. But, you will say, “Where are the Auks, we have lost sight of them entirely.” Never fear, good reader, we are in a delightful harbour, and anon you shall hear of them.
Winding up the basin toward the north-east, Captain Emery, myself, and some sailors, all well armed, proceeded one day along the high and precipitous shores to the distance of about four miles, and at last reached the desired spot. We landed on a small rugged island. Our men were provided with long poles, having hooks at their extremities. These sticks were introduced into the deep and narrow fissures, from which we carefully drew the birds and eggs. One place, in particular, was full of birds; it was a horizontal fissure, about two feet in height, and thirty or forty yards in depth. We crawled slowly into it, and as the birds affrighted flew hurriedly past us by hundreds, many of their eggs were smashed. The farther we advanced, the more dismal did the cries of the birds sound in our ears. Many of them, despairing of effecting their escape, crept into the surrounding recesses. Having collected as many of them and their eggs as we could, we returned, and glad were we once more to breathe the fresh air. No sooner were we out than the cracks of the sailors’ guns echoed among the rocks. Rare fun to the tars, in fact, was every such trip, and, when we joined them, they had a pile of Auks on the rocks near them. The birds flew directly towards the muzzles of the guns, as readily as in any other course, and therefore it needed little dexterity to shoot them.
When the Auks deposit their eggs along with the Guillemots, which they sometimes do, they drop them in spots from which the water can escape without injuring them; but when they breed in deep fissures, which is more frequently the case, many of them lie close together, and the eggs are deposited on small beds of pebbles or broken stones raised a couple of inches or more, to let the water pass beneath them. Call this instinct if you will:—I really do not much care; but you must permit me to admire the wonderful arrangements of that Nature from which they have received so much useful knowledge. When they lay their eggs in such a horizontal cavern as that which I have mentioned above, you find them scattered at the distance of a few inches from each other; and there, as well as in the fissures, they sit flat upon them like Ducks, for example, whereas on an exposed rock, each bird stands almost upright upon its egg. Another thing quite as curious, which I observed, is, that, while in exposed situations, the Auk seldom lays more than one egg, yet in places of greater security I have, in many instances, found two under a single bird. This may perhaps astonish you, but I really cannot help it.
The Razor-billed Auks begin to drop their eggs in the beginning of May. In July we found numerous young ones, although yet small. Their bill then scarcely exhibited the form which it ultimately assumes. They were covered with down, had a lisping note, but fed freely on shrimps and small bits of fish, the food with which their parents supply them. They were very friendly towards each other, differing greatly in this respect from the young Puffins, which were continually quarrelling. They stood almost upright. Whenever a finger was placed within their reach, they instantly seized it, and already evinced the desire to bite severely so cordially manifested by the old birds of this species, which in fact will hang to your hand until choked rather than let go their hold. The latter when wounded threw themselves on their back, in the manner of Hawks, and scratched fiercely with their claws. They walked and ran on the rocks with considerable ease and celerity, taking to wing, however, as soon as possible. When thus disturbed while breeding, they fly round the spot many times before they alight again. Sometimes a whole flock will alight on the water at some distance, to watch your departure, before they will venture to return.
This bird lays one or two eggs, according to the nature of the place. The eggs measure at an average three inches and one-eighth, by two and one-eighth, and are generally pure white, greatly blotched with dark reddish-brown or black, the spots generally forming a circle towards the larger end. They differ considerably from those of the Common and the Thick-billed Guillemots, being less blunted at the smaller end. The eggs afford excellent eating; the yolk is of a pale orange colour, the white pale blue. The eggers collect but few of the eggs of this bird, they being more difficult to be obtained than those of the Guillemot, of which they take vast numbers every season.
The food of the Razor-billed Auk consists of shrimps, various other marine animals, and small fishes, as well as roe. Their flesh is by the fishers considered good, and I found it tolerable, when well stewed, although it is dark and therefore not prepossessing. The birds are two years in acquiring the full size and form of their bill, and, when full grown, they weighed about a pound and a half. The stomach is an oblong sac, the lower part of which is rather muscular, and answers the purpose of a gizzard. In many I found scales, remnants of fish, and pieces of shells. The intestines were upwards of three feet in length.
Immediately after the breeding season, these birds drop their quills, and are quite unable to fly until the beginning of October, when they all leave their breeding grounds for the sea, and move southward. The young at this period scarcely shew the white streak between the bill and the eye; their cheeks, like those of the old birds at this time, and the fore part of the neck, are dingy white, and remain so until the following spring, when the only difference between the young and the old is, that the former have the bill smaller and less furrowed, and the head more brown. The back, tail, and lower parts do not seem to undergo any material change.
Alca Torda, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 210.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 793.—Ch. Bonap. Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 431.
Razor-bill, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 547.
Adult Male in summer. Plate CCXIV. Fig. 1.